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Atticus Claw Goes Ashore

Page 2

by Jennifer Gray


  The children didn’t seem too sure about it either.

  ‘Maybe we should tell Dad?’ Callie whispered to her brother. ‘In case there’s any trouble.’

  Inspector Cheddar was in charge of security at the World Beard-Jumper Competition. Atticus knew for a fact he wasn’t expecting ‘any trouble’ because Atticus was the only other police officer coming. Everyone else was going to Scotland Yard for a day out with Inspector Cheddar’s boss, the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth.

  Mr Tucker overheard her. ‘Don’t, Callie!’ he pleaded. ‘Your dad’ll ’ave ’em all arrested before you can say “shiver me timbers”.’ He sat down heavily on the stool. To Atticus’s horror a fat tear trickled down his cheek and dropped on to his beard-jumper. ‘Youze don’t knows what this means to me,’ Mr Tucker sobbed. ‘I’s always wanted to host the World Beard-Jumper Competition ever since I was a baby. There was never room at the cottage. This is me big chance.’

  (Mr and Mrs Tucker used to live in a cottage by the sea until Atticus came along. Thanks to him they discovered they had a priceless ruby necklace in the attic and bought Toffly Hall instead.)

  ‘Please!’ Mr Tucker wailed.

  Atticus jumped into Mr Tucker’s lap. Poor Mr Tucker! He seemed really upset. Besides, there were a few tasty morsels of fish lurking in his beard-jumper, which needed to be removed before the competition to make him look smart. Atticus started picking at it with his claws. Mr Tucker stroked Atticus absently. Atticus’s presence seemed to soothe him. He stopped sobbing.

  ‘I suppose so,’ Callie said reluctantly.

  ‘As long as you promise they won’t do anything bad,’ Michael added.

  ‘Of course they’s won’t!’ Mr Tucker beamed. ‘They’ll be as good as gold. The only one as would cause any trouble isn’t on the guest list. I left him off on purpose.’

  ‘Who’s that?’ Callie asked.

  ‘Captain Black Beard-Jumper.’ Mr Tucker shivered. ‘The most fearsome pirate on the sea. He’s got the biggest beard-jumper known to chins.’ He winked at Atticus. ‘With him out of the picture, I should win the competition!’

  ‘I’m still not sure …’ Callie hesitated. ‘What do you think, Michael?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Michael said. ‘Let’s ask Atticus. He’s the police cat. What do you think, Atticus? Should we tell Dad about the pirates?’

  Atticus thought for a moment. On the one paw Inspector Cheddar probably ought to know if Littleton-on-Sea was going to be besieged by pirates. On the other paw, if he did know, he’d tell Mrs Tucker, Mrs Tucker would cancel the beard-jumper competition and Mr Tucker would be sad. Atticus wriggled uncomfortably. Help! He didn’t know what to do! It was much harder being a police cat than people realised.

  ‘Well?’ Michael said.

  ‘Please, Atticus!’ Mr Tucker begged. ‘I promise everything will be fine.’

  Atticus decided to side with Mr Tucker. It seemed as if he had it covered. Everything would be okay as long as Black Beard-Jumper didn’t find out he hadn’t been invited and turn up unexpectedly, like the bad fairy in Callie’s Sleeping Beauty story. And that wasn’t very likely to happen, was it? Atticus began to purr.

  ‘Atticus says it’s okay!’ Mr Tucker cried.

  ‘All right,’ Michael said slowly. ‘I guess that means we won’t tell Dad.’

  ‘I hope you’re right about this, Atticus.’ Callie frowned.

  Atticus stopped purring. So did he!

  ‘Thanks, Atticus, I knew youze wouldn’t let me down!’ Mr Tucker pulled two sardines out of his pocket. He gave one to Atticus and the other to Thomas, who had been waiting patiently by Mr Tucker’s foot. ‘Youze must be hungry after all that beach tidying!’

  Atticus gulped the sardine down gratefully and cleaned his whiskers.

  ‘Talking of beach tidying,’ Michael remembered, ‘Atticus found this.’ He handed the bottle to Mr Tucker.

  ‘Well, Thomas did,’ Callie corrected. “It’s got a message in it.’

  ‘A message in a bottle?! Well done, Thomas!’ Mr Tucker pulled out a third sardine and gave it to the kitten. ‘Youze got to be smaaarrrt to spot one of those.’

  Atticus looked on in dismay. It wasn’t fair! Now Mr Tucker was giving Thomas extra sardines! Atticus was beginning to regret letting the children know that Thomas found the bottle. It wasn’t really true anyway. If it hadn’t been for Atticus, they wouldn’t have gone to the pier in the first place! The bottle would still be buried under the nappy.

  ‘Thumpers’ Traditional Beard Dye?!’ Mr Tucker twisted the bottle in his fingers. ‘I’d say that means this message was sent by either a fisherman or a pirate. They’s the only people who use Thumpers’.’

  Apart from Zenia Klob, Atticus thought sulkily. She used it for her disguises.

  Mr Tucker took a pair of tweezers from his pocket and pulled the message out.

  The kittens watched intently. So did Atticus. He was annoyed to see that Thomas had jumped on to Mr Tucker’s lap to get a better view. He was such a copycat!

  Mr Tucker spread the paper out carefully on his good knee and read the message. His expression changed. Mr Tucker went red, then blue. He ended up a sort of funny combination of both, which Atticus thought might be called magenta. His whole body shook. He seemed to be having some sort of fit.

  Thomas jumped down in panic.

  The paper fell from Mr Tucker’s knee and fluttered on to the floor, face up. Atticus took a second look at it. The picture jumped out at him. There was definitely something familiar about it.

  ‘Mr Tucker?’ Michael cried. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘What is it, Mr Tucker?’ Callie shook his arm.

  Mr Tucker’s eyes were focused somewhere in the distance. ‘The Caarrsket of Desires,’ he whispered eventually. ‘Fishhook Frank’s found it at laaarrrst!’

  ‘What’s the Casket of Desires?’ Michael shut the kitchen door behind Thomas, who had gone to join his friends in the sitting room.

  The two children sat down either side of Mr Tucker at the table. Atticus jumped on to a chair beside Callie. He wanted to know what was going on.

  The message lay in front of them on the table.

  ‘I’s not saying anything,’ Mr Tucker said firmly. Callie had made him a mug of tea. Mr Tucker clasped it in his shaking hands.

  ‘You have to tell us,’ Callie said.

  ‘Ooorrr what?’ Mr Tucker frowned.

  ‘Or we’ll tell Dad about the pirates,’ Michael said smartly.

  ‘All right then,’ Mr Tucker grumbled. ‘I’ll tell youze. But you’d better promise to keep it a secret.’

  Mr Tucker seemed to have a lot of secrets today, Atticus observed. Callie lifted him on to her lap so that he could listen. Atticus purred gently. He felt loads better. He realised it had been silly of him to be jealous of Thomas.

  ‘A long time ago,’ Mr Tucker began, ‘in a land far away, there lived an old woman …’

  ‘It’s not bedtime, Mr Tucker,’ Michael interrupted.

  ‘D’youze want to know about the caarrsket or not?’ Mr Tucker glared at him.

  ‘Sorry,’ Michael said.

  Atticus snuggled closer. He liked stories. This sounded like a good one.

  ‘The old woman was very poor,’ Mr Tucker continued. ‘She lived in a tiny shack beside the sea. One day when she was out searching for sea slugs for supper, she found a mermaid washed up on the beach.’ Mr Tucker put on a dainty voice. ‘“Put me back in the sea,” the mermaid begged the old woman, “and I will grant any wish you may have.”’

  Atticus listened intently. He wondered what he would do if he came across a mermaid when he was on beach-tidying duty. He wasn’t sure if he’d be strong enough to put her back on his own. Mermaids were big, like humans. Maybe the kittens would help.

  ‘The old woman started to pull the mermaid towards the sea,’ Mr Tucker went on. ‘Then she stopped. “How do I’s know youze won’t just swim away if I’s let you go?” she asks. “I promise that when I hear
this rhyme,” the mermaid says, “I will answer it at once:

  Magic mermaid on the shore,

  Please grant me what I’m wishing for.”’

  Magic mermaid on the shore, please grant me what I’m wishing for. It was quite catchy. Atticus thought he might try it next time he went to the beach, to see if a mermaid appeared. Except there wouldn’t be much point in asking her for a wish because he already had everything he wanted, except more sardines. He turned his attention back to Mr Tucker.

  ‘“Now put me back!” the mermaid sobbed. But the old woman had thought of a way to trick the mermaid. “So,” she says slyly, “youze promise that when youze hear the rhyme you’ll grant a wish?” “Yes!” the mermaid says …’ Mr Tucker paused to light his pipe. He took a deep puff and exhaled loudly … ‘“I promise! Now put me back! Or I’ll die!” The mermaid couldn’t breathe, you see,’ he explained.

  Atticus knew how the mermaid felt. Mr Tucker’s pipe smoke wafted round the kitchen in a blue fog.

  Michael opened the back door.

  ‘What happened?’ Callie coughed. ‘Did the old woman put the mermaid back?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mr Tucker replied. ‘She did. Then, when she saw the mermaid was strong enough to swim she summoned her with the rhyme.’

  ‘Magic mermaid on the shore, please grant me what I’m wishing for,’ Callie and Michael said together.

  Mr Tucker nodded. ‘Straight away the mermaid pops her head out of the water. “What is it you wish for?” she asks. And the old woman says, “I wish for a huge banquet.” “Very well,” says the mermaid and disappears into the sea. When the old lady returned to the shack she found the table was piled high with delicious food. Her wish had come true! She sat down and ate a whole cow.’

  Mr Tucker placed his pipe in front of him and took a slurp of tea. Luckily some of it dribbled down his beard-jumper on to the tobacco. The pipe went out with a hiss.

  Atticus nestled against Callie. He was mesmerised. He’d never heard such a good story before.

  ‘The next day, the old lady went back to the beach and summoned the mermaid again,’ Mr Tucker said. ‘The mermaid pops her head out of the sea in surprise. “What do you want?” she asks. “I granted your wish yesterday.” The crafty old woman grins. “You promised when you hear the rhyme you’ll grant a wish,” she winks as she quotes the mermaid’s promise back at her. “Well, I just said the rhyme, didn’t I? That means you’ve got to grant me another wish.”’

  Atticus’s whiskers twitched. That old woman was a greedy pig.

  ‘That’s so mean!’ Callie exclaimed.

  ‘Aye,’ Mr Tucker flicked his teeth in and out. ‘As cunning as a crocodile, that old moo.’ He sighed. ‘The poor mermaid was horrified. She realised the old woman had tricked her. And now she was her slave. Every time the old woman said the rhyme, she would have to grant her a wish.’

  Atticus could imagine Zenia Klob doing something sneaky like that. He wondered vaguely if she and the old woman were related.

  ‘But why did the mermaid have to do what the old woman said?’ Michael asked in a puzzled voice. ‘Why didn’t she just swim away?’

  Mr Tucker sucked his pipe. ‘The mermaid made a promise, see? And according to pirate lore a mermaid always keeps her promise.’

  Atticus was puzzled. Pirate what?

  Michael noticed his expression. ‘Pirate lore means pirate legend, Atticus,’ he told him. ‘You know – stories that have been passed down from pirate to pirate.’

  ‘Aye,’ Mr Tucker confirmed. ‘Over hundreds of years. That’s what I’s tellin’ youze now.’

  Atticus frowned. How did Mr Tucker know so much about pirates? First they were turning up at Toffly Hall for the World Beard-Jumper Competition. Now he was recounting their legends! Atticus regarded him suspiciously.

  ‘Where was I?’ Mr Tucker grumbled. ‘Oh yes … Every day after that the crafty old woman went to the beach, summoned the mermaid and made a wish. She wished for a palace to live in; she wished for fine clothes to wear; she wished for more jewels and gold than anyone else in the kingdom. Eventually the mermaid got together with all the other magical sea creatures in the world and begged them to help her. “You must hide yourself away,” they told her, “in a place where the old woman can’t find you.” “There is no such place,” the mermaid wept. “That old bat has enough money to buy a hundred ships to search the sea for me from one end to another.” “Then we will guard you,” the sea creatures said. “We will destroy her ships so she can never get close enough to summon you.” To be on the safe side the sea creatures told the mermaid to put herself to sleep for a thousand years. “That way,” they said, “the old woman will be dead and the rhyme will be forgotten. Neither she nor anyone else will be able to summon you ever again.”’

  A thousand years! Atticus liked sleeping but that was a long time for a nap, even by cat standards.

  Mr Tucker was nearing the end of his story. ‘“Is there no other way I can be free?” the mermaid said sadly. “No,” the sea creatures said. “There is no other way.” So the mermaid decided to take their advice. She locked herself in a glass caarrsket …’

  ‘The Casket of Desires!’ Callie squealed.

  Mr Tucker nodded … ‘and put herself to sleep. The sea creatures took the caarrsket and hid it in a secret lagoon. Then they patrolled the sea, waiting for the old woman to come.’

  ‘What happened next?’ Michael asked.

  Mr Tucker drained his tea. ‘When she found the mermaid had gone the old woman was furious. She bought a fine ship and sailed to the four corners of the earth searching for her but without success. The sea creatures had hidden the mermaid well.

  Then one day –’ he lowered his voice to a whisper – ‘the ship was boarded by pirates.’

  Pirates again?! Atticus scratched his ear. It was all Mr Tucker could talk about!

  ‘The pirate captain made a bargain with the old woman. He agreed to help her find the mermaid if she told him the rhyme. The old woman thought if anyone could find the mermaid, a pirate could, so she did as the pirate captain asked: she told him the rhyme.’

  Magic mermaid on the shore, please grant me what I’m wishing for. Atticus said it again in his head.

  ‘Then what happened?’ Michael asked.

  ‘What do youze think?!’ Mr Tucker chortled. ‘As soon as the old goat said the rhyme, the pirate captain made her walk the plank! Then he set sail to find the caarrsket for himself.’

  At least the mermaid was safe from the old woman, Atticus thought. But the pirates didn’t sound any better. Now the mermaid had to hide from them instead!

  ‘Did the pirate captain find the casket?’ Callie asked.

  ‘Nope,’ Mr Tucker replied. ‘That one didn’t, nor any that came after him: not in almost a thousand years of looking. Some claimed they came close: others told tales of ships being destroyed by the magical sea creatures.’ He paused. ‘But one thing them sea creatures were wrong about: the rhyme didn’t get forgotten, it got passed down through the years from pirate to pirate.’

  ‘So, the Casket of Desires is still out there,’ Michael said slowly.

  ‘Aye.’ Mr Tucker nodded. ‘According to pirate lore.’

  ‘… And the person who finds it and summons the mermaid will have their wishes come true,’ breathed Callie.

  ‘Aye.’ Mr Tucker nodded again. ‘That caarrsket falls into the wrong hands and we’re all finished. Whoever gets to it first could wish for anything.’

  There was silence in the kitchen.

  ‘So where does Fishhook Frank come into it?’ Michael asked.

  Atticus jumped. He’d been so engrossed in the mermaid story he’d forgotten about Fishhook Frank and the message in the bottle.

  Mr Tucker looked uncomfortable. ‘Fishhook and me used to be best friends,’ he admitted. ‘Many years ago, see, we went lookin’ for the caarrsket ourselves. That’s when I came across the giant lobster that clipped off me leg. It’s one of the creatures that guards t
he mermaid.’

  Atticus could hardly believe his ears. Mr Tucker had gone in search of the casket? He wondered if Mrs Tucker knew.

  ‘Does Mrs Tucker know?’ Callie asked.

  Mr Tucker glowered at her. ‘What do youze think?’ he said rudely. ‘Anyway, after I’s lost me leg, I gave up, but Fishhook couldn’t rest until he found out where the caarrsket was hidden.’ He scratched his beard-jumper in disbelief. ‘And now it looks like he has. That’s why he’s sent this message. He knows if any pirate reads it they’ll rescue him like a shot.’ Mr Tucker took a deep breath and exhaled noisily. ‘The problem is, what happens when they do.’

  Atticus rubbed his whiskers with a paw. He was trying to puzzle something out.

  Suddenly Mr Tucker banged his fist on the table. ‘One thing’s certain: we mustn’t breathe a word about this when them pirates come for the beard-jumper competition. Or they’ll be off to that island before you can say “prawn cocktail”. Promise youze won’t tell a soul.’

  ‘We promise.’ The children nodded solemnly.

  Atticus purred distractedly.

  ‘Then once they’ze gone, we’ll go and rescue Fishhook ourselves!’ Mr Tucker said cheerfully. ‘Meanwhile I’ll hide this!’ He picked up the message and pushed it back into the bottle.

  Atticus watched it disappear. He recognised the skull and crossbones emblem on the message now. It was the Jolly Roger: the pirate flag. Atticus felt his fur prickle. No wonder Mr Tucker knew so much about pirates! Atticus had finally figured it out. His suspicions had been right! Fishhook Frank was a pirate. He and Mr Tucker had been best friends. That could only mean one thing.

  Mr Tucker had once been a pirate too!

  ‘Melons for sale! Melons for sale!’

  In Egypt, Jimmy Magpie and his gang were having a horrible time. The three black-and-white birds were each tethered to Zenia Klob’s squeaky melon cart by a leather strap around one foot. (Normally Zenia Klob had a squeaky wheelie trolley but since she’d been in hiding she had a squeaky melon cart instead.)

 

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