Thomas shrugged his shoulders. “The director didn’t seem interested in anything,” he said. “He just smiled when we complained about Hardtack and Shark taking more than their fair share. He simply said: ‘You kids sort it out among yourselves.’”
For a while, everybody was silent as they thought about the injustice. Then Poppy asked Ben whether he had enjoyed the day, in spite of Hardtack and Shark. Ben did not answer directly, but seemed to be weighing up what to say. “A bit,” he said, at last. “I suppose it was interesting – because I’ve never seen a movie being made before. But then there was something odd about it all. There was something that wasn’t quite right.”
“Why do you say that?” Badger asked.
Ben tried to explain how he had felt. It was difficult to put it into words, but he was quite sure about the feeling. He had experienced the “not quite right” feeling a few times before, and it had always happened when something was indeed not quite right.
“Because sometimes you get a feeling,” he said, “that people are telling you one thing and thinking of something else altogether. Do you know that feeling?”
“I get it when I think somebody’s lying to me,” Poppy said.
“Yes,” said Ben. “But it’s not just that. I get that feeling when I meet somebody who … well, somebody who is just not a good person. Do you know what I mean?”
Badger nodded. “I think I know what you mean,” he said. “I had that feeling in New York, when new neighbours had just moved into the apartment next to ours. I didn’t like them, and I told my Dad, who asked me why. So I told him that when I saw them I felt a strange feeling up the back of my spine. A sort of tingling.”
“I’ve had that,” said Poppy. “I got it once when I was out in the bush. I suddenly felt a bit odd and shivery. We were camping and I was in the tent. And you know what? There was a snake curled up in the corner of the tent. I hadn’t seen it, but it was there. It was one of those brown snakes.”
“Are they dangerous?” asked Fee.
“Very,” answered Poppy.
Ben was interested to hear more about Badger’s neighbours. “What happened?” he asked.
“A few weeks after they had moved in,” Badger said, “we heard a lot of shouting. We looked out the door and you know what we saw? The police. They were standing outside the neighbours’ door and shouting to them to come out with their hands on their heads.”
“And did they?” asked Ben.
“Eventually they were taken away by the police in handcuffs.”
Ben asked what the neighbours had done.
“My father said they were Mafia gangsters!”
“So your feeling was right all along,” remarked Poppy.
Badger nodded. “Yes. It was something about them.”
Poppy turned to Ben. “Do you think your feeling is the same sort?” she asked.
Ben hesitated before answering, but then said, “I had that feeling when I saw the director. I had the same feeling when the cameraman arrived on deck. And I felt it, I think, about every single one of the crew of that ship – every single one.”
“Bad people?” prompted Fee.
“Yes,” said Ben. “I don’t want to spoil things for anybody, but I think there’s something very strange about that ship and those people. It’s an odd thing to be filming such a movie here. Just think about it. Why would they do it?”
“Perhaps we should tell the Captain,” suggested Fee.
Poppy did not think this a good idea. “What can we say to him? ‘Oh, MacTavish B has an odd feeling?’ He’ll just laugh at that. The Captain agreed to let us do this.”
Ben remembered something. “What about Henry?”
They all looked at him blankly.
“Henry obviously had that feeling too,” he said. “He growled when the Albatross came into the bay. He didn’t like them.”
Poppy shook her head. “We can’t go up to the Captain and say: ‘Your dog growled.’ All dogs growl from time to time. He’ll think we’re half crazy.”
“You’re probably right,” said Thomas, sadly. “I suppose we’ll just carry on and see what happens tomorrow. After all, what other choice do we have? We only have these odd feelings and no concrete evidence. We can’t accuse anyone of anything!”
The girl in the dark
That night, as they were preparing for lights-out, Badger asked Ben whether he had spoken to Fee.
“You were going to ask her about last night,” he said. “Did she tell you anything?”
Ben told him about his hurried conversation. “She just whispered something and promised she would tell me, but not just yet.”
“Not good enough,” said Badger. “Saying that you’re going to tell somebody something some time is just not good enough. It’s just another way of saying that you don’t want to tell them.”
Ben knew Badger was right. He could tell Fee was reluctant to share the secret, and he imagined she was hoping he would simply forget all about it. After all, she had said nothing to him at dinner, when she would have had the chance to whisper to him without anybody hearing.
Badger, who had been preparing to get into his hammock, now stopped and sat down on a chair. “I think we should go and take a look ourselves,” he said.
“Now?” asked Ben.
“After lights-out. Nobody will be around then. We can go and see what’s behind that door.”
Ben was uncertain. He had always been brought up to obey the rules, and he did not like the thought of breaking them too often. He had already done so when he went along the passageway that first time. He had got away with it then, but the more often you break the rules the more likely you are to be caught. If he was caught he knew he would be punished – perhaps even made to clean the heads.
Badger was staring at him. “You aren’t scared, are you? Because if you’re scared, then just tell me and I’ll go myself. It’s your sister and Poppy. I think we should figure out the secret.”
It was a challenge, and Ben knew that if he refused to go his friend might think less of him.
He summoned up all his courage. “I’m not scared,” he said, doing his best to sound brave. “I’ll come.”
It was not true, of course, and had he been Flubber, then his ears would have moved as he spoke. But he was not Flubber and Badger seemed satisfied with his response.
They waited until lights had been out for a good ten minutes before they made their move. Badger had a spare torch, and he gave this to Ben so they each had one. “Don’t turn it on yet,” he said. “We can find our way in the dark, but we might need it later.”
Keeping as quiet as possible, they left their cabin and began to make their way along the passageway. This ran the whole length of the ship, and they were only halfway along it when they heard the sound of footsteps. Badger seized Ben’s arm and guided him into a recess in the wall. It was a place where a fire hose was stored, but there was just enough room to hide, if they pressed themselves far enough back.
“Try to breathe quietly,” whispered Badger.
The steps had come closer and closer, and now, clearly visible in the semi-darkness, was Matron. She was busy carrying some bottles of drinking water to the sick bay. Had she been paying more attention, then she would undoubtedly have seen them. But, as it was, she walked right past, completely unaware of the two half-hidden boys.
They waited until Matron was well out of sight before they left their hiding place. Within a short time they had reached the end of the passageway and were standing in front of the door through which Ben had seen Poppy and Fee disappear.
“Are you sure this is the one?” asked Badger, his voice lowered.
“Yes,” whispered Ben. “I’m positive.”
Badger reached for the handle. Silently, with not so much as a squeak, the door opened before him. Inside was complete darkness, and so Badger switched on his torch, shielding its beam with his hand.
It was not an ordinary cabin – rather, it was a storeroom of some sort, about twice
the size of a normal cabin. As the beam of the torch moved round, various items were exposed: a wooden barrel, complete with bung; a tangle of old rope; an open crate of lifejackets. There were also some stores of tinned food and a pile of spare deck shoes. It was exactly what one would expect of a storeroom on a school ship.
“Why would they have come in here?” asked Badger, still keeping his voice muted.
“Maybe they were meeting somebody,” said Ben.
Badger shone the torch towards the back. “There’s another door,” he said.
They crossed the cabin. Ben hesitated, his hand above the handle of this second door. “Shall I?” he asked.
Badger gave him a nod of his head. “Yes,” he said. “We need to look in there.”
Gingerly, Ben turned the handle. Just as the outer door had done, this one opened easily and quietly.
Badger shone his torch into the darkness. “Oh!” he exclaimed. And then “Oh!” again.
Ben looked past his friend to see what was there. He drew in his breath. Then he too said, “Oh!”
Strung between two large crates was a small hammock. And on this hammock, covered by a blanket that looked as if it had been made of two floor-mats, was the figure of a girl.
When the torch beam suddenly fell on her, the girl gave a start and sat bolt upright. The expression on her face, revealed by Badger’s torch, was a mixture of surprise and fear.
“Sorry,” said Badger, automatically. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Ben looked over Badger’s shoulder. He saw that the girl looked roughly their age, and was wearing jeans and a blue sweater. Her hair, which was long and dark, was tangled.
“Who are you?” the girl said, her voice trembling.
“I’m called Badger,” said Badger. “And this is my pal, Ben. We’re in Middle Deck, as you must be, I suppose …” He did not complete his sentence.
“My name’s Tanya,” said the girl. “Actually, I’m in no deck.”
“But you have to be,” said Ben. He moved his torch away from her to illuminate the area around her bed. There was a kitbag and a small suitcase. The suitcase was open to reveal clothes, a hairbrush, and a few personal possessions.
“Don’t you have a locker?” asked Badger. “Everyone’s entitled to a locker, you know.”
Tanya looked at him with wide, dark eyes.
Suddenly Ben understood. “You’re a stowaway, aren’t you?” he blurted out.
The girl turned her gaze to him. “Since you’ve found me, I might as well say yes,” she replied.
Badger whistled in amazement. “You mean they don’t know you’re on board?”
The girl now slipped out of her hammock and stood beside them. “Nobody knows,” she said. “Apart from two new friends who have been looking after me, and now you.”
“Are those two friends called Poppy and Fee?” asked Ben.
Tanya looked surprised. “How do you know?’
“I saw them,” said Ben. “I saw them come here the other night.”
“They bring me food,” said Tanya. “They’ve helped me.”
“Fee’s my sister,” said Ben.
This had an immediate effect. Turning to Ben, Tanya reached out and touched his arm gently. “So you’re Ben!” she said. “Fee has told me all about you. She says that you’re the best brother anybody could possibly have.”
Ben was embarrassed by the praise, but it was something that any brother would be pleased to hear.
Badger brought the conversation back to Tanya. “How did you get here and why have you stowed away?” he asked bluntly.
Tanya looked down at the floor. “I had to,” she answered.
“Who made you?” pressed Badger.
This question brought a sigh from Tanya. “Nobody made me,” she said. “But if you were in my shoes you would have done exactly the same thing.”
She was about to explain further, but suddenly stopped. There was a sound on the other side of the door that led back into the first storeroom. Tanya put a finger to her lips in a gesture of silence. “Turn off your torches,” she whispered.
The sound grew closer, and then there came three taps on the door.
“It’s them,” said Tanya, still whispering. “It’s okay. You can turn on your torches again.”
“Who?” asked Ben.
The door opened and there, holding a torch, was Poppy, and behind her was Fee, carrying a bag. For a moment the two groups stared at one another. Then Poppy said, “Well, now you know, I suppose.”
The bag that Fee was carrying contained Tanya’s dinner. Ben recognised the contents: one of the apples from lunch; a piece of the pie that Cook had served up that evening; a slice of the cake they had been given for tea. There was also bread and jam, all wrapped carefully in greaseproof paper.
They all sat down in a circle as Tanya began to eat.
“You may as well tell them everything,” said Poppy. “As long as they promise to keep it secret.” She turned to Badger and Ben. “Do you promise not to breathe a word about this or … or …” She thought of an awful thing that might happen if they broke their word, “Or you’ll be struck by lightning.”
“We promise,” said Badger. “Don’t we, Ben?”
“Yes,” said Ben. “We promise, or we’ll be struck by lightning.”
That was enough for Poppy, who urged Tanya to tell the boys everything once she had finished eating.
Tanya ate quickly, and with the last crumbs consumed, she began her story.
“I was born here in Scotland,” Tanya said. “My father was a sea captain and my mother made flags for ships. She sewed these flags in our front room and then they were sent off to ships all over the world. She had other jobs too – she was always working.
“I had no brothers or sisters – it was just me – but I was happy enough. And then something terrible happened. My mother became gravely ill. She went into hospital and never came out. The doctors said they were sorry – they had done everything they could to save her, but she was too ill.”
She paused, obviously upset. Ben gently asked, “So what happened to you?”
“Because my father was out at sea almost all the time,” said Tanya, “I was sent to live with an uncle and aunt I’d never met before. They ran boarding kennels for dogs whose owners were away. It was far away from everywhere. I knew I was going to hate it from the moment I arrived. I saw that the dogs were not given all the food their owners had paid for, and were kept on short rations. The dogs didn’t like being there and lived for the moment their owners came back to collect them. If only the dogs could have talked, they’d have told them the truth about that awful place.
“My uncle and aunt made me work really hard in the kennels. I had to clean up and look after any dogs that were ill. We had a little sick-kennel for them, and I was in charge of it. I didn’t mind that too much, as I learned to help sick dogs.
“They weren’t meant to make me work so hard, you know, but they did. In the morning I was sent to a horrible school nearby. I had always liked school, but not that one. When I came home in the afternoon, I had to go and look after the dogs until it was time for my dinner, which was always cold and tasted horrible. Sometimes I was so hungry I even ate the dog biscuits.
“But every month they made me write a letter to my father. They told me what to say and they stood over me while I wrote it. I had to tell him how happy I was and how well I was being looked after. I had to say how nice the food was, although it wasn’t, and I never got enough of it. I had no way to tell him the real story.”
Badger was wide-eyed. “I would have run away,” he said.
“That’s just what I did,” said Tanya. “I waited until they were asleep one night and I let myself out of the house. I took some food with me, and a bottle of water. I ran along the road that led to the nearest town. I was tired, but I made it. Then I hid near the train station until morning and the first train came in. I got on and had sat down in a carriage when I suddenly realised
who I was sitting next to. It was the man who delivered supplies to the kennels. He looked at me suspiciously and then he went off to make a phone call. When we reached the next station there was a policewoman waiting for me. She took me back to the kennels. I told her I hated it there and that I was being made to work, but when my uncle and aunt laughed at this and said I was making it all up, the authorities believed them rather than me. That’s often the way it is, isn’t it? If you’re young like us, grown-ups just don’t believe you, even if you’re telling the truth.”
Ben was caught up in the story; he wanted to hear more. “What happened then?” he asked.
“I decided to run away properly, so I made a careful plan. I had read about the Tobermory and even once talked about the ship with my mother. I thought how wonderful it would be to go off on a school ship with a lot of other people the same age. But now nobody would ever send me off on one, and so I decided to do it myself. I thought that if I was on the Tobermory then I might have a chance of finding my father’s ship. I have no idea where it is, you see, and only my aunt and uncle know how to contact him.”
There was something that Ben wanted to know. “How did you get on board?” he asked.
“You can’t just have walked up the gangway,” said Badger. “Mr Rigger always watches who comes on board. He would have stopped you and asked your name.”
Tanya had an answer. “Yes, I knew about that because I watched what happened. You see, I had just enough money left from when I was originally sent away to my uncle and aunt’s to buy a ferry ticket to Mull. Once I was there, I watched the Tobermory for a day or two.”
The girls had heard this story before, but the boys had not. Nothing like this had ever happened to them in their lives, and they listened intently to every word.
Tanya went on. “I noticed that there was a boat that took out supplies. Most of the time it was tied up at the harbour, but every morning at ten a man would come down in his van, unload supplies, and then go out to the Tobermory where she was anchored. I hid in that boat.”
“And then?” asked Ben.
Tanya smiled at the memory. “I hid under some empty sacks before the man came down,” she said. “At times it was scary, as he put boxes and crates around me and I thought he was going to put one right on top of me. Fortunately I only had to put up with being squashed by a big bag of potatoes.”