Kidnap Island (12 page)

Bert shook his head
with a grin. Oh to be young! Part of him did wonder what the
children were up to. He
’
d heard they were
meant to be camping near the club but there
were
no tents to
be seen when he
’
d gone up to check on
them earlier that morning. And how had they managed to go out
sailing without him seeing them? He
’
d been at the club
since 7am that morning. Some adults would have wanted to stick
their noses in and find out what was going on but Bert was young at
heart and remembered when he was a boy he didn
’
t like
grown ups getting involved in his adventures, and he knew Jonny and
his friends would feel the same. His ears had pricked up, though,
at Eric
’
s features and American accent and he began to
wonder about something.

Sadly, the secretary
in the harbourmaster
’
s office was rather
less trusting of children.
“
Why do you want to
know?
”
she demanded, after Jonny politely asked if there was a
boat called Jenny registered in the harbour.
“We can
’
t just hand out
information willy-nilly. There
’
s data protection to
consider, you know.
”

“
We
’
re doing a treasure hunt and one of the clues is
to find a boat called Jenny,
”
Jonny explained with his most winning
smile.
”

“
That
’
s as maybe but it
doesn
’
t change the fact I can
’
t divulge private
information. Besides, the whole point of a treasure hunt in my day
was to hunt, not simply ask other people for the answers. Now get
out of
my
office, I
’
m busy.”

As the stuck-up secretary was
saying her piece, a teenage boy was behind her in the office
signalling to Jonny to meet him outside. Jonny recognised him as
Jake, whom he occasionally crewed for in dinghy races.

“
Hi
Jonny, how
’
s it going?
”
asked the tall muscly boy when they
were out of sight and earshot of the secretary.
“
What
’
s this
about you wanting to find a boat called Jenny?
”

“
I
’
m good, thanks Jake. Like I said,
we
’
re doing a treasure hunt and need to find this
boat.
”

“
Look, I
’
m working here during
the summer. Partly with the dragon in the office and partly in the
boatyard. If you want, I can sneak onto the computer and look
through the records for you. But you mustn
’
t tell anyone I
helped you or I
’
ll be in massive
trouble. It
’
s bad enough working
with the dragon when she
’
s in a good
mood.
”

“
Thanks Jake, you
’
re a star. Can you
text me if you find anything out? You
’
ve got my
number.
”

“
Sure thing kiddo. Hey, here she comes, I
’
d better
look busy.
”
And with that, Jake disappeared behind an old boat, leaving
the children exposed to the wrath of the dragon.

“
Are
you kids still here?
”
she sneered.
“
You
won
’
t find the answers to your silly quiz here, so be off
with you.
”

The children walked off without a
word, secretly thinking that, just maybe, the dragon was wrong and
they would find the information they needed.

Chapter
Fourteen

The friends were
lolling around on the grass outside the sailing club after a
delicious meal from the club
’
s restaurant, Ainslie
doz
ing
peacefully beside them. Will had kindly paid for all
their lunches, using his own bank card. It was a real treat for
Jonny as his parents rarely ate at the club, arguing that there was
no point when they lived so close by. Once again, the boy mused
over the fact that Will
’
s family had so much
more money and
was
much cooler than his, and then
his
–
rather old
–
phone beeped.
“
Hey,
it
’
s a text from Jake at the boatyard.
”

“
What does it say?
”
asked Louisa excitedly.
“
Has he found
a boat called Jenny?
”

“
No...”

The
children
’s faces
dropped.

“
...but he has found one called Jenny
Wren.
”
Jonny looked at the others.
“
Could that be
it?
”

“
Maybe,”
said Louisa thoughtfully.
“
What sort of
boat is she and where is she?
”

“
The
text says she
’
s a 35-foot motor
cruiser moored in Smugglers
’
Creek.
”

“
Where
’
s that?
I
’
ve never heard of it,
”
said Will
scornfully.

“
I
have.
”
Jonny had sailed to most parts of the large and rambling
harbour with its many creeks and inlets.
“It
’
s down near Bosbourne, I didn
’
t know
there were any boats moored there, though, but there are some big
houses along the shore.
”

Eric
’
s eyes were
shining.
“
Do you think my dad
’
s there, then? How
can we get there to see?
”

“
Well, it
’
s all part of a
private estate so you
’
re not really meant
to go down the roads. I cycled in once and got a load of grief from
some posh bloke. There
’
s nothing to stop us
sailing up the creek, though, and that
’
d
be
more fun,
anyway.”

“
Good plan,
” Louisa grinned, looking
at her phone. “
The
tide
’
s on its way in so let
’
s get straight
off.
”

Will
’
s boat was still on
the slipway from the morning so it didn
’
t take long to
get it back in the water and the sails up. The wind was a decent
force three but, with four of them and a dog in the small dinghy,
it was never going to be a fast trip. Eric was getting used to the
sensation of sailing and starting to enjoy himself.
“I
’
ll take you out just
the two of us some time,
”
promised Jonny, who was always keen
to introduce others to his favourite sport. He was also secretly
hoping to take Louisa out sailing one day. She was helming and,
although Jonny would never say so to Will,
Louisa
was
obviously a more natural sailor than her cousin.

After about 30
minutes
’
steady sailing, Jonny pointed out
Smugglers
’
Creek.
“
See those posts, they
mark the channel. There are mudflats on each side so
it
’
s tricky to sail up without running
aground.
”

“
Posts?”
scoffed Will.
“
Twigs more like. No
wonder I
’
ve never seen
the channel
before,
it
’
s hardly well marked.
”

“
Not
many people know about it, you
’
re right. Apparently
in Roman times it led to a busy harbour and then, more recently, it
was a good place for smugglers to sneak barrels of brandy ashore,
hence the name.
”
Jonny was secretly quite interested in the history of
his beloved harbour.
“
There
’
s no real reason to
go up it now as there
’
s nowhere to land cos
the shore is all owned by the big houses.
”

Jonny took the helm
and skilfully tacked the boat up the narrow channel. Despite his
care, though, the centreboard still touched the mud a couple of
times and Will had to pull it partway up.
“You
’
d struggle to get up here at anything but high
tide,
”
he pointed out.

“
Yea, it almost dries out apart from a channel of water down
the middle,
”
Jonny explained.

Now, though, the tide
was almost right in and the creek was filled with water, although
much of it was very shallow. If someone didn
’
t know
better
,
they would think
there
’
d be plenty of room to sail up the creek but the small
twigs sticking out at intervals showed that only a narrow channel
up the centre was navigable in anything larger than a canoe. On the
left side of the creek were four or five large waterside
properties, some clad with wood in a New England style, another a
super-modern glass and stainless steel structure
,
and
one
a rather
out of place mock Tudor
affair
. All had gardens
sweeping down to the water and two
of the homes
had
little private jetties.

The right-hand side of
the creek, by contrast, was unspoiled by development and heavily
wooded, with trees and undergrowth growing right to the
water
’
s edge. The trees caused a wind shadow so the
children
’
s boat was just drifting up the creek, which gave
plenty of opportunity for them to look for the Jenny
Wren.

“
I
think your mate at the boatyard was wrong,
”
said Will.
“
There
couldn
’
t be a motorboat up here, there
’
s not enough
water for it and, besides, we
’
d see
it.
”

The others silently
agreed and Eric felt his hopes were being dashed. Would he ever see
his father again? Jonny felt they
’
d gone as far up the
channel as they could and had tacked the boat slowly found to head
out when Louisa pointed.
“
Look, up there! Is that
a boat?
”

They followed her
finger and, sure enough, there was a motor cruiser hidden away up a
tiny inlet in the trees. Jonny steered the dinghy as close as he
dared and was surprised to see more twigs marking a secondary
channel leading into the woods. The boat was stern on to them and
pretty much filled the inlet.
“
Look at the
name,
”
said Eric excitedly. In faded letters on the transom were
the words
‘Jenny Wren
’
.

“
Jenny Wren? She looks more like a dodo,
”
joked Will as he
examined the boat. Despite his inexperience in dinghies, Will
really did enjoy sailing and, like Jonny, had
little
time
for motor boats
.
T
his one was particularly
ugly
; i
t had a wide transom and an unnaturally high
superstructure with a
glass
patio door
leading out to the cockpit. Above
the cabin
was a flying
bridge
that made
the white boat look ridiculously top
heavy.