Several of the pirates made to get up, but the Pirate Captain waved for them to sit down again. ‘Not so fast, you scurvy lot.’ He shot them an admonishing waggle of his eyebrows, and beckoned the Governor over to one side.
‘Listen, Governor,’ he said. ‘Just between us men, this leaves me in a bit of a fix. You see, the lads have been really excited about becoming bee-keepers, and I hate to disappoint them. So what if I made it three bottle tops, and threw in one of my more expendable pirates? That chap over there in red, he’s a good hard worker.’ The Captain did his most winning smile.
‘I don’t think Her Majesty really exchanges pieces of her empire for bottle tops,’ said the Governor.
‘Aarrrr,’ said the Captain. ‘But look at their eager little faces.’ He indicated the row of pirate faces. ‘And those big eyes. They’d be heartbroken.’
‘Well,’ said the Governor, pondering for a moment. ‘They do have big eyes. And I suppose there is old Mrs. Blystone’s place. She passed away recently. Eaten by goats. Sad business. It’s not a very spacious house I’m afraid, and the roof leaks rather, but you could stay there if you like. After all, the island doesn’t have a bee-keeper14 at present, so you’d be a welcome addition to the local economy.’
‘Any chance of arranging some sort of commemorative stamp with my face on it, just for appearances’ sake?’
‘We do tend to stick to Queen Victoria’s face, Captain. Sorry.’
‘Fair enough. No harm in asking.’
The Pirate Captain, who was starting to impress himself with his new-found and frankly uncharacteristic firmness of purpose, turned to his pirates and they looked expectantly back at him.
‘Unpack the boat, lads,’ he roared, banging his cup of tea down on the mantelpiece, because banging things was always his favourite way of illustrating those moments when he made a particularly important decision. ‘We’re staying!’
The pirates all seemed to deflate where they were sitting, like a row of pirate-shaped balloons.
‘Come on, don’t all look so dour. And if it helps to get you to turn those frowns upside down,’ he added, ‘then try to think of this as a very long, uneventful adventure on an exotic island. You know, like in that Robinson Crusoe book. But with better hats, and less narrative thrust.’
12 In eighteenth-century Britain, umbrellas were seen as an effeminate French affectation and if you went out in the rain with one, some urchins would shout, “Frenchman, Frenchman! Why don’t you call a coach?”
13 Labidura herculeana, not seen alive since 1967, grew up to 3.3 inches long, twice the size of a Megachile pluto.
14 According to The Bee-Master of Warrilow (Tickner Edwards, 1907), bee-keepers come in three varieties: ruthless businessmen, the hidebound ‘old school’ who hate progress and ‘reserved, silent men, difficult to approach’ who grew up amongst the hives and, ‘in the right circumstances, make the most charming of companions’.
Six
SEVENTEEN WAYS TO
BREAK MY HEART
ou’ve got the canapés ready?’ asked the Pirate Captain, anxiously straightening his beard ribbons in the hallway mirror of their new home.
‘Yes, Captain,’ said the pirate with a scarf. ‘And I’ve made the napkins into little swans like you wanted.’
‘Good man. I want your buckles at their most shiny and your scarves to be at their jauntiest, because this housewarming party is the perfect opportunity for us to make a big social splash.’
Even though they suspected that ‘making a big social splash’ wasn’t half as much fun as ‘making a big actual splash in the sea with cannonballs’, the pirates dutifully went about the task of tidying up the living room in preparation for the housewarming party. They found that pretending dust was Black Bellamy’s crew helped with the dusting, and that pretending spoons were the sexier bits of mermaids helped with the polishing.
‘It’s incredibly important that we make a good first impression,’ continued the Pirate Captain. ‘I really can’t emphasise that enough. It’s just like with chimpanzees, you see.’
‘I’m not sure I follow, Captain,’ said the pirate with a scarf, carefully putting out the best china.
‘Social hierarchies,’ explained the Captain, who had once taken a primatology course at Pirate Academy for extra credit. ‘You see, when a new chimpanzee joins a group of other chimpanzees the very first thing he has to do is make sure everybody realises that he’s the Alpha Male. Of course, in chimpanzee circles he’ll tend to do this by bashing a few baby chimps to bits against a tree, or punching some macaques.’
‘Are you going to punch some macaques?’ said the albino pirate hopefully.
‘Unfortunately, as I learnt the hard way, it turns out you’ve got to be a bit more subtle than that in human circles. On account of our years of extra evolving. Social dominance amongst landlubbers is mainly established through throwing lavish parties and telling amazing anecdotes.’15
The Captain flicked open the catches on an old treasure chest and swung back the lid. He sifted through the piles of old socks and sandwiches and very carefully lifted out a small crystal bear.
‘You know what this is?’ he asked the pirate with a scarf, grinning.
‘It’s your crystal bear, sir.’
‘No, number two, it’s a conversation piece. A conversation piece is an old pirate trick. I’ll put the crystal bear on the coffee table, and then guests will be bound to comment, giving me an opportunity to tell them an exciting story about how I came by it.’
‘That’s very clever, Captain. But didn’t you get it from that shop on Oxford Street? The one that’s full of crystal animal tat? The albino pirate cried when you wouldn’t buy him a crystal unicorn. It’s not much of an anecdote, to be honest.’
‘Well, yes, that’s as may be,’ said the Captain. ‘But our guests won’t know that, will they? This is one of the best things about starting a new life abroad, you can make all sorts up about your past.’ He tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially. ‘I’ll probably tell them that I won it in a game of poker with the Devil.’
One by one the islanders began to arrive, and the pirates all did their best to engage in pleasant small talk, and tried not to limit their conversation to the usual rather insular topics of treasure and types of rope. The pirate with an accordion played mood music, and the pirate with long legs made sure that everybody had enough jellyfish to eat, because boiled jellyfish, rain and pebbles seemed to be pretty much all the island had to offer in the way of cuisine. Very soon the Pirate Captain had quite a crowd gathered round him, hanging on his every word.
‘Here’s an interesting fact,’ he said, winking at a particularly gamine lady islander, perching on his knee with an adoring look in her eye. ‘We had an adventure with Charles Darwin a little while ago, and according to his theories a small, isolated population such as yourselves will probably mutate into fish people within a few generations.’
‘Really?’ said the gamine lady islander. ‘How fascinating! And you’ve met such interesting people! We must seem terribly dull in comparison.’
‘Aarrr, not at all. I think you’d look good with gills, by the way.’
‘Oh, you’re such a charmer, Pirate Captain.’
‘I am, but there’s much more to me than the charming rogue who plunders stuff and sets fire to things. I’m also surprisingly spiritual.’
‘I like spiritual things!’
‘I could tell. Now, for instance, a while back I stole a whole lot of gold Buddhas from some Tibetan monks. Can’t get more spiritual that that.’
‘What a life you’ve led,’ sighed the girl. ‘You’re easily the most famous and exciting person to have ever visited St Helena.’
The Pirate Captain turned his grin to full beam. ‘I suppose I must be.’
‘I like your crystal bear, by the way.’
‘Ah, as it happens there’s an interesting story behind that. 1812, it must have been,’ The Captain spoke extra loud to make sure he had
everybody’s attention. ‘Me and my loyal manservant Pappaganeo were on an expedition to find the source of the Amazon, with just a battered canoe made out of old tiger skins …’
But before the Pirate Captain could get any further into his anecdote there was a sudden loud knock at the door. All the pirates jumped, because they weren’t used to the fact that on land people could just turn up unannounced and knock at your door. The only things that tended to turn up unannounced at sea were bouts of dysentery and the occasional albatross.
‘Goodness me!’ exclaimed the Governor. ‘Who can this be? Another visitor in the space of a day?’
‘Maybe it’s the Pirate King come to try to persuade the Pirate Captain to go back to pirating,’ said Jennifer hopefully.
‘Maybe it’s Black Bellamy come to apologise for the earlier mix-up,’ said the pirate who was quite naïve.
‘No, look!’ said the pirate in green peering out the window. ‘It’s the Royal Navy! They’ve come to arrest us! We’ll be hung in irons!’
‘Why would they arrest law abiding bee-keepers?’ pointed out the Captain, with a roll of his eyes. He excused himself from the gamine lady and the throng of islanders and went to open the door. A young naval officer carrying a clipboard looked him up and down.
‘Is this St Helena?’ he asked, frowning.
‘That’s right,’ said the Pirate Captain. ‘Can I help?’
‘Delivery for you.’ The naval officer held out his clipboard. ‘Sign here. No, not there, here, where I’ve put a little X. Right.’ He snapped his fingers and from behind him two burly sailors appeared, flanking a chained figure in a long military coat and a distinctive peaked hat. They unshackled their prisoner, handed him a suitcase and then, with a sharp salute, they and the officer disappeared back down towards the direction of the beach, leaving the man on his own. He peered about his new surroundings with a barely concealed look of disdain. The islanders all seemed rooted to the spot, so the Pirate Captain, deciding it was only right to be polite, strode forward and proffered his hand.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Welcome to St Helena. I’m the Pirate Captain, the island’s most famous resident. Goodness me, you look terribly familiar.’
‘I imagine I do,’ said the man.
‘Don’t tell me.’ The Captain clicked his tongue thoughtfully. ‘Have you ever advertised fish fingers?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘Modelled for erotic etchings?’
‘No.’
‘Ah, I’ve got it – the steak counter at the butcher’s on Cowley Road in Oxford!’
The man shook his head once more.
‘Oh well, I give up. But I could swear I know you from somewhere. Though maybe you’ve just got one of those faces that looks like everybody else’s face. Some people have those. They’ve done scientific studies on it.’
The man doffed his hat and bowed. ‘Be hold Napoleon!’ he exclaimed. ‘Unjustly deposed Emperor of the French, King of Italy, Mediator of the Swiss Confederation and Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine!’
‘Aarrrrr,’ said the Pirate Captain, a little flustered. He bowed back, because he couldn’t think of what else to do in the circumstances. ‘Well, behold me. Bronze swimming certificate. Owner of several hats. Protector of, um, some bees.’
Everybody, pirates and islanders alike, gaped at the new arrival.
‘Now listen here.’ Napoleon picked up his suitcase, stalked into the room, grasped the Pirate Captain’s shoulder and fixed him with a serious stare. ‘It is usual when meeting me for the first time that men question the very worth of their lives. I know how your thoughts must be running at the moment. “My goodness!” you think. “Here is a man, if such a word does him justice, which frankly it doesn’t, who has conquered most of the world! Who has set himself amongst the gods! My life appears so trivial in comparison!” But try not to think those thoughts, because that way only madness lies. You should not judge yourself by Napoleon’s incomparable standards. Just as you would not judge, say, an ant, or some sort of rodent, by your own. Besides, in many ways I’m sure your trivial achievements are just as important as my gargantuan ones.’ Napoleon paused and stared nobly into the middle distance. ‘Because ultimately I am a man, just like you. And I want you treat me like an equal, ridiculous though that must seem.’
With that Napoleon gave the Pirate Captain a big Gallic hug, and then spun on his heel to survey the rest of the room. Noticing Jennifer he doffed his hat again and stepped forward to kiss her hand.
‘Young lady, enchanté’, said Napoleon. ‘Do not be surprised or embarrassed if you swoon in my presence. It is quite the normal reaction amongst the fairer sex.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ said Jennifer.
‘And you.’ Napoleon patted the pirate with a scarf on the back. ‘You too are probably feeling you will faint just from the thrill of breathing the same air as Napoleon. Well, faint away! Nobody will think any less of you.’
The pirate with a scarf just blushed and stared at the floor.
‘Shouldn’t you be off tying to take over the world, Mister Napoleon?’ asked the albino pirate, looking a bit star-struck. ‘Or have you changed jobs and become a bee-keeper too?’
‘No, my porcelain friend,’ said Napoleon, his face suddenly clouding over. ‘I simply grew tired of the conquering business. So I have come here to this godforsaken rock to enjoy a peaceful retirement. I am here completely of my own volition, and anybody who says otherwise is a liar and a charlatan.’
‘Mister Bonaparte,’ said the Governor hurrying forward to take the general’s things. ‘It’s a real honour to have you as a guest on our humble island.’
‘Anyhow,’ said the Pirate Captain, turning back to the gamine lady islander having decided it was high time he got his anecdote back on track. ‘As I was saying, there’s a rather interesting story behind how I came by that crystal bear.’
‘Ah yes, bears,’ said Napoleon. He nimbly slipped his arm around the gamine girl’s waist and led her over to a couch. ‘That reminds me of the time I invaded Russia. Let me tell you all about it. You are extremely gamine, by the way.’
Across the room Jennifer leaned over to the pirate with a scarf. ‘The Pirate Captain’s gone a very funny colour,’ she said. ‘What on earth can the matter be?’
‘I think,’ replied the pirate with a scarf ruefully, ‘it has something to do with chimpanzees.’
15 If you’re hosting a party try to make sure you have plenty of biscuits. Custard creams recently topped a poll to find Britain’s favourite biscuit, easily beating the competition with 93 per cent of the vote.
Seven
DATELINE:
MURDERING!
hat a ridiculous little man,’ remarked the Pirate Captain to nobody in particular over breakfast the next morning. ‘Have you ever met anyone with such a high opinion of themselves?’
‘It rings a bell,’ said the pirate in red.
‘It’s a wonder his head doesn’t explode,’ said the Pirate Captain, choosing to ignore this comment. ‘Remind me not to wear my best coat when I’m around the fellow, because I don’t want to end up with exploding Corsican brain go all over me.’
‘Well, I think it’s very exciting to have Mister Napoleon as a neighbour,’ said the albino pirate. ‘I mean to say, he almost conquered the whole of Europe!’
‘And I ate the whole of that mixed grill that time. Not “almost ate,” you’ll notice. I finished the job,’ said the Captain with a scowl, moodily buttering his Weetabix.
At the sound of an envelope plopping onto the mat, all the pirates bounded excitedly to the door. In comparison to the sort of sounds that got the pirates excited on their previous adventures ‘the sound of an envelope plopping onto the mat’ wasn’t really all that great. Normally they could expect ‘the sound of grapeshot tearing through the rigging’ or ‘the sound of a tidal wave crashing across the deck’ or at the very least ‘the sound of the pirate in green being a bit seasick’. But with their new dom
estic existence they found they had to settle for what they could get.
‘An envelope!’ said the albino pirate. ‘What do you suppose it could be?’
‘Maybe it’s a love letter from an admiral’s daughter!’
‘Or a chain letter telling us we’ll get cursed if we don’t pass it on to five people we know, in which case we should ignore it, because chain letters are a form of bullying.’
‘Maybe we’ve won some premium bonds!’
The pirates went on discussing what the letter could be for a while, until the Pirate Captain strode over from the breakfast table and picked it up with a flourish.
‘Never occurs to you lot to just open something, does it?’ he said, shaking his head in exasperation. ‘We do have cutlasses for a reason, you know.’
The Pirate Captain slit open the envelope, and pulled out an embossed square of paper. It read:
‘Wow, that’s a fancy invitation!’ exclaimed the pirate with long legs. ‘Look, he’s done all raised lettering. And feel how thick the paper is that it’s printed on! It must be at least 150gsm!’
‘It certainly makes those invitations you sent out written on bits of seaweed look a bit poor, doesn’t it Pirate Captain?’ said the pirate who liked kittens and sunsets.
The Captain’s beard shook in a way that the pirates recognised signified either trouble or the presence of an approaching typhoon, and for a moment he seemed lost for words. Eventually he found his tongue. ‘He can’t throw a housewarming party the very day after I’ve thrown a housewarming party! It’s against all known social etiquette. The cheek of the man!’
‘Is Napoleon your new nemesis, Pirate Captain?’ asked the pirate in green, who liked to try and keep track of these kind of things.
‘At this rate I think he might very well be. But not the good kind of nemesis like Black Bellamy who you have a grudging respect for. He’s the terrible kind who just gets on your nerves.’ The Captain glowered. ‘And do you know what the worst thing is?’
In an Adventure With Napoleon Page 5
