“No, no, no … because she wears a mask.”
A mask? A shiver runs down Sam’s spine. “Did she tell you her name, Albert? Was it Kitty?”
“I never asked,” he replies. “It’s very rude to ask a lady her name.”
“No, it’s rude to ask a lady her age!” insists the woman, whereupon Albert promptly tries to guess how old she is, causing great offence. The rest of the ladies leap to her defence, assuring her that she doesn’t look a day over ninety, and, while the captain and the bo’sun try to stop them lynching Albert on the ladder with his own tie, Sam slips away from the table with the black cat in her arms.
With any luck, she will be able to follow it back to the barge.
HOW TO READ HIEROGLYPHS
KITTY BASTET
The black cat sits in front of Lola’s wheelchair and washes its whiskers. When Sam releases the brake, it trots off down the towpath with its tail held high. Sam hurries after it, but the wheelchair isn’t easy to steer. It keeps veering towards the water like a wayward supermarket trolley and she’s afraid that she’ll tip Lola into the Thames, or lose the cat.
She shouldn’t worry; this Friday the thirteenth is a lucky day for her. The black cat doesn’t climb up a tree, nor does it disappear under one of the many overturned canoes on the slipway; it heads straight for home.
Following its silent paws, we arrive at a place untroubled by houses and left to grow wild. Apart from the whine of mosquitoes rising in clouds above the river and the monotonous squeak, squeak of Lola’s wheelchair, all is peaceful. Deserted.
There, to the left, is the Cat Barge. It is moored alone, its hull bumping against the bank behind a lacy screen of cow parsley. If you look closely, you’ll see that the barge is decorated with hieroglyphics, and although the paint work has faded, the gilt on the figurehead is too bright to look at when the sun strikes it; shield your eyes – it is Bastet, the Cat Goddess.
Lola has slipped out of the wheelchair and is sitting in the long grass with her arm around Sam. They watch as the black cat leaps effortlessly onto the barge and sinks into a sea of fur. There are so many cats, the outline of the barge is fuzzy with whiskers.
There’s no sign of Kitty yet. Sam puts her finger to her lips, beckons to Lola, and they climb on deck. That part is easy; it’s knowing where to put your feet once aboard that’s the problem. The barge is carpeted with cats and it wouldn’t do to tread on that huge tabby one because it is bound to let out an ear-splitting… MIAOWWWW! The startled tabby cartwheels through the air, hissing and spitting, causing the other cats to explode simultaneously like a furry firework display. The fallout of fur is building up to unleash a gigantic sneeze – Sam has to pinch her nose… But someone’s coming! Sam stands like a statue; Lola ducks and hides among the cats.
A woman rushes up from below deck, the sleeves of her long robe frothing around her fingertips. Her hair is waist length and dark and although her figure is youthful, it’s impossible to tell how old she is because of her mask. It’s tight-fitting – almost like a second skin – with the features painted on in Egyptian style. Only her eyes are animated; troubled eyes that flick from cat to cat, wondering what’s caused all the excitement.
The masked woman clutches a kitten to her breast. It’s so young, its eyes are still blue; but to its mistress’s shock, it has already mastered human speech, because suddenly, it gazes up at her and in a snuffly voice says: “Hello, Kitty!”
The woman holds the kitten at arm’s length, stares at it quizzically then presses its face close to her ear. Its eyes widen and it speaks again: “Look behind you, Kitty.”
The woman turns and is so startled to see a girl in a ringmaster’s hat, it throws her off balance. Sam catches her as she falls.
“You are Kitty, aren’t you?”
The woman doesn’t reply.
“You are Kitty Bastet?”
Perhaps it’s not Kitty. Or perhaps it is Kitty but she can’t remember who she is. Perhaps her memory never returned – or is she playing games? Suddenly, the woman speaks.
“Who in Ra’s name are you?”
“My name is Sam. Sam … Tabuh.”
She hesitates with her surname because she has been brought up as Sam Khaan. She’d kept her mother’s maiden name. She was known as Sam Khaan at school but now she wants to be Sam Tabuh.
The woman’s mask remains expressionless, but behind it, her mouth drops open in disbelief. A shudder escapes through the mouth slit. “You are not Sam. You’re an illusion!”
Sam takes a blue pencil out of her pocket and rubs it with her fingers; the pencil turns red. It’s basic magic: the red pencil had a thin tube of blue paper over it. Sam slips it off and puts it in her pocket faster than the eye can see.
“That is an illusion, Kitty; I’m real.”
She takes off her hat and points to her wild, blonde streak. “See? Now do you believe I’m John Tabuh’s daughter?”
Kitty claps her hands to her mask and shakes her head in denial. “No, you are a … ghogle!”
Kitty struggles to find the right word; although most of her memory has returned, there are peculiar gaps in her vocabulary.
“A ghogle? Don’t you mean ghost?”
“You died in a fire when you were a booby. I was up a ladder, I couldn’t reach you. The flans were too fierce. I screamed out to Lilo, ‘Save the booby!’ But the flans blew out the top widow. I remember falling … falling.”
She meant flames, not flans. Widow meant window. Saving the booby? Ah, the baby. Sam finds it hard to keep a straight face. Kitty squats down, her fingers over the eyeholes in her mask and groans. “Have you come back to haunt me?”
“How can I haunt you? I’m not dead! The reason Lola and I are here is to ask if you know where my father—”
“Lilo? Is Lilo here too?” Kitty thought she’d died in the fire with Sam. She’d grieved for both of them.
“Yes, Lola’s over there, trying to hide among the ginger cats. You can’t miss her – I had to disguise her as a granny, and the blouse is rather bright.”
“But I do miss her,” wails Kitty.
Lola swings across the deck and throws her arms around Kitty, who is overcome with emotion. “Oh … oh! My darling pet grape! My sweet meringue-utan!”
Sam notices tears spilling down the elegant nose of the mask. She pretends to watch the seagulls and waits for the crying to stop. “Now do you believe I’m who I say I am, Kitty?”
Kitty dabs her mask with her sleeve. “I want to believe it more than anything but I dare not. What if this is just a beautiful drama and I wake up? My hat will break. I’ll go mad.”
“Let’s do a deal,” says Sam. “I will trust that you are Kitty if you trust that I am Sam.”
“But I’m not Kitty; I am Fey Ra! High Prancess to the Giddiness Bistet.”
Sam has been wondering for some time why Kitty’s name doesn’t appear on the witch doctor’s list. She has a quick glance in the notebook. There’s her real name, smouldering away at the top. Fey Ra, Priestess to the Goddess Bastet.
“But you can call me Kitty if you like,” announces Fey Ra.
She holds out her arms to embrace Sam. “I primrosed your father I’d look after you, but I failed – I’m so sorry.”
Sam puts her arms stiffly by her sides. As I’ve explained, she can’t recall ever being held by a person, and although Kitty held her when she was a baby, she’s forgotten it and the embrace feels awkward. Lola comes to the rescue and puts her arms round both of them.
This is not the first time Lola has come to Sam’s rescue, and now it is time for you to learn about her Heroic Deed. Kitty didn’t witness it – she’d already jumped out of the window – but I can tell you that it was Lola who lifted Sam out of the burning crib and it was then that Sam dropped her silver rattle.
But how did the flames start? Why was Kitty up a ladder? Who was the blonde woman Ruth Abafey saw running from the scene?
“Ruth who?”
Kitty can’t remem
ber her at all. Sam sits her down.
“Try Kitty. Concentrate! She’s the witch who pulled you out of the wharf. You left this under her pillow.” She shows her the cat charm. Kitty touches it with her fingertips.
“So that’s where it went. I never knew the witch was called Ruth.”
“Why did you leave without saying goodbye to her, Kitty? Where did you go?”
“To look for you!”
Kitty tells Sam exactly what the witch had told her; the blow to her head had deprived her of speech. For a time, she couldn’t remember who she was or how she came to be in the witch’s waiting room. Then one morning, her memory began to return; there had been a fire in the warehouse. She remembered who started it.
“It was Candy Khaan!”
Sam feels as if she’s been hit on the head with a frying pan. “My Aunt Candy?”
“Yes! Your Aunt Candy has the most violent teapot—”
“I know she’s violent,” grumbles Sam. “I lived with her for twelve years.”
Kitty throws her hands up in disbelief. “You did what? But I looked for you there! Hope against hope, I went to St Peter’s Square to see if Lola had managed to rescue you and take you to Candy’s.”
But the windows were boarded up. No one answered the doorbell. Kitty thought Candy had flown, like John Tabuh.
“I was there all the time,” says Sam. “I don’t know how I came to be there though…”
She breaks off. Something Aunt Candy had said suddenly begins to make sense. Your only friend, the orange monkey, turned up with you on my doorstep like rubbish blown in from the street…! Aunt Candy was the woman Ruth saw running away from the burning warehouse. She’d slammed the door behind her so that Kitty, Lola and Sam would be trapped in the flames. Lola had climbed out of the window with Sam in her arms and followed Aunt Candy home. They arrived safe and sound at St Peter’s Square, and despite Aunt Candy’s fury, she was no match for an orang-utan with a grudge; she had no choice but to let them in.
Sadly, Kitty hadn’t known this. Consumed by grief, guilt, and utterly confused – for her memory would never be quite the same – she went to live as a recluse on Eel Pie Island, where no one would ever find her.
Or so she thought.
THE MIND-READING TRICK
The masked magician guesses a secret word which someone has written on a piece of paper – how?
THE SECRET
You need: a pencil, paper, a white envelope, lighter fuel, matches, a fireproof bucket full of sand.
NB Ask permission to use matches and lighter fuel if you are a minor or an arsonist.
1. Choose a volunteer. Explain that you can read their mind.
2. Ask them to write a word down on the piece of paper – they mustn’t tell you what it is.
3. Ask them to put the paper in the envelope and seal it.
4. Pour lighter fuel over the envelope; it will go transparent so you can see the word written on the paper inside.
5. Memorize the word, put the envelope in the bucket of sand and set fire to it.
6. Reveal the secret word to your amazed audience.
CHRISTA
No matter what opinion you might have formed about John Tabuh, you should know this: it was Kitty who persuaded him to leave his baby daughter in her care while he went to Scotland. He would never have gone if he’d thought Sam was at risk. If only he could see her now, eating oranges with Lola below deck on the barge.
“So he thinks I’m dead too, Kitty.”
Kitty nods sadly. “As for your poor mother – the grief must be killing her.”
Sam juggles a handful of oranges and explains that there’s no chance of that; her mother died when she was born. Aunt Candy told her.
“Oh, did she?” Kitty starts muttering in Ancient Egyptian: “Oh, mighty Bastet, by your infinite grace protect the sanity of this unhappy child!”
“I’m fine about it, honestly,” insists Sam. “I never knew my mother; I’ve had thirteen years to get used to the fact that she’s dead.”
“It’s not a fact!”
Sam continues to juggle oranges as if she hasn’t heard correctly. “What’s not a fact?”
“Your mother didn’t die in childbirth.”
“How did she die then?”
“She didn’t.” To Kitty’s knowledge, Christa left the warehouse in a box, but she was alive and well at the time.
The oranges plop to the floor and the colour drains from Sam’s face. You’d think she’d be delighted to hear that her mother was alive, but the truth – if it is the truth – takes a while to sink in.
“Say something,” Kitty implores.
Sam is speechless. If her mother is alive, why has she never tried to find her? Does her mother think she’s dead too?
“There’s a very good raisin—” begins Kitty.
“What good reason could there be for my mother to leave the warehouse in a box!”
“Well … ooh… There was a good reason. It’ll come to me in a minute…”
Is Kitty struggling with her memory or is she afraid to tell Sam the truth? Sam grits her teeth.
“Try to remember! Did Aunt Candy know my mother was alive?”
No, Aunt Candy was tricked into thinking Christa was dead. For once, she hadn’t lied to Sam.
“Who tricked her? Tell me, Kitty!”
“Your father, your mother and, er, me.”
Why would they do such a thing? Why would anyone want to fool Candy into thinking her own sister had died? Kitty holds up her hands:
“Candy brought it on herself. We had to make her believe Christa had been killed.”
Killed? What dreadful secrets had gone up in smoke all those years ago? John and Christa aren’t here to explain; it’s down to Kitty to reveal everything.
She admits to Sam that the witch doctor really had sent his son on a global quest. That much is now indisputable. Unfortunately, things didn’t go quite as John had expected. Hardly surprising. The chances of crossing the Pacific in a mwa sawah and surviving are very slim. The witch doctor must have known the canoe would capsize, so, given that he was desperate for his only son to step into his shoes, why would he send him to his inevitable death?
I suspect Yafer Tabuh knew a ship would be passing the right place at the right time to save his son from the shark-infested water. He could read the patterns of the waves. Even if the ship was far out to sea, its ripples could be read at the upper end of the Sepik, and he could judge its position with amazing accuracy.
In fact, John had told Kitty that his mwa sawah capsized on the third day of his journey and that he and Lola had been rescued by an ocean liner called The Trinity. John had worked aboard the ship until a dreadful incident occurred, forcing him to flee to London. There he’d met Bart Hayfue who’d given him Kitty’s address.
“What dreadful incident?” asks Sam. “Did he tell you?”
“He refused, so I asked the ancient spirits.”
So Bart had been right. Kitty did believe she could communicate with the spirits. Trying to sound as sincere as possible, Sam asks her what they’d said. Kitty lowers her voice.
“Murder by magic!”
When Kitty told John what the spirits had written, he couldn’t look her in the eye. He claimed that automatic writing was a load of nonsense and insisted on showing her a mind-reading trick to prove that although it made him appear psychic, it was just an illusion.
“Was it the trick where you have to write something on a piece of paper and the magician sets fire to it and guesses what you’ve written? asks Sam.
“Yes – argh! You read my mind!”
“No, I didn’t. He wrote it down in a notebook I found in the attic.”
She still doesn’t know how the notebook came to be in the trunk or how John Tabuh came to be a magician. I do, but now isn’t the time to share it with you. I’m happy to share the secret of the mind-reading trick though – no doubt you found it at the front of this chapter. I thought twice about telling
you. Once you know how the trick works it’s so obvious, it’s disappointing. But I need you to understand why John Tabuh became so sceptical. The more he learnt how illusions were done, the more he felt there was no such thing as real magic; all was trickery, manipulation and deception.
His English mother was partly to blame. She was determined to bring John up the western way. She didn’t have long to live; she knew the world was changing and wanted her son to be prepared. That’s why she taught him to ask questions, why she told him that science and psychology were behind most of the phenomena his father called magic – most, but not all. Sam opens the shell locket and shows Kitty the photo inside. “Is this his mother?” she asks.
“Yes, that’s Freya. When she died, John lost faith in his father because he failed to bring her back from the dread.”
“Do you think it’s possible to bring someone back from the dead, Kitty?”
Kitty isn’t sure, but John told her that when he was thirteen, Lola was hit by a poisoned dart and died in his arms. Sam interrupts the story.
“And didn’t he beg his father to bring her back to life?”
That’s what she’d dreamt and Kitty says yes. Seeing his son’s sorrow, the witch doctor took Lola into his hut and chanted for two days. When he called John inside, Lola was alive.
“See what power I have, my son!” he’d boasted. “I can raise the dead.”
But when John’s mother died, the same magic didn’t work and John was left with nothing but her photo and three questions:
1. Did Lola really die or had she just swooned?
2. Did the witch doctor simply give her an antidote for poison?
3. Had the witch doctor swapped the dead orang-utan for a live one?
“I wonder if John’s found the answers yet?” sighs Kitty. “He was supposed to be asking three questions his father gave him: What is magic? What is real? What is—”
“Illusion,” says Sam. “I know.”
But there’s one illusion she knows nothing about; her mother’s death. How was it faked? She won’t find out this afternoon. Kitty is dozing off; she tires easily. She says she has a weak heart, something to do with smoke inhalation. She must lie down in her cabin.
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