Arabel and Mortimer, Page 2

  "I expect he would," said Arabel. "He generally likes new things. Would you like a cruise, do you think, Mortimer?"

  Mortimer thought he would. He couldn't reply, for his beak was full of Kreemy Kokonut Surprise, but his eyes sparkled and he began to jump up and down on the back of Arabel's chair.

  "Of course he'd like it, bless him!" said Lady Dunnage. "My parrot, Isabella, just loves being on board ships. That's settled, then! I'll get my hubby's secretary to send you a note about embarkation time. I'll be on the cruise myself, as it's the first one, and so will Isabella, and I'm sure she and Mortimer will make great friends."

  "I don't know if Mortimer's ever met a parrot," said Arabel a little doubtfully. "But I expect it will be all right."

  Arabel herself was greatly excited at the thought of a cruise. But Chris, when Lady Dunnage invited him, said he always got seasick in boats, and he would really prefer a little cash to put toward a motorbike for which he was saving up. Lady Dunnage promised that he should have not the money but the bike itself the very next day. Then she left them, gazing so happily at her recovered ring that she never even noticed the worm in the letter box on the back of the front door.

  When Mr. Jones came home after the football match and heard from his enthusiastic family that they were all going on a cruise to Spain, which they had chosen instead of two thousand pounds, he was very put out indeed.

  "Going on a cruise? To Spain? In March? Taking Mortimer? Instead of two thousand hard cash? You must be stark, staring barmy," he said. "Mark my words, no good will come of this."

  He was really annoyed. He threw down his evening paper and a Rumbury Wanderers football scarf and went off to watch television, calling back over his shoulder, "Anyway, what's that child doing up so late? It's high time she and that bird were in bed. Cruise to Spain, indeed. What next, I should like to know?"

  After Arabel and Mortimer had gone slowly upstairs, Arabel remembered that Mortimer's green tie had been left outside in the glove compartment of her father's taxi; she had to put on her trousers and duffle coat over her pajamas and go down again to get it. Mortimer would not have dreamed of going to bed without his green tie.

  So, on the Saturday following Mortimer's discovery of Lady Dunnage's diamond ring, the Jones family set off on their cruise to Spain.

  To start with, Mr. Jones's friend, Mr. Murphy, drove them in his taxi to Rumbury Docks. Rain was coming down as if someone had tipped it out of a pail, and when they got out of the taxi an east wind as sharp as a bread knife came slicing along the dock to meet them.

  Mortimer was in a bad mood. At that moment he would much rather have been peacefully at home, asleep in the bread bin, with his green tie wrapped round and round his neck and his head tucked under his wing, and perhaps a bunch of keys hooked over one of his toenails.

  However, when he saw the cruise liner on which they were to set sail, he began to take more interest in the adventure.

  The Queen of Bethnal Green was all painted white and blue and sparkling with newness. She had three white spikes sticking up from her top, four rows of portholes, and a very large blue-and-white-striped funnel, or smokestack.

  A friendly steward was waiting by the gangway to escort the Jones family to their quarters. By now Mortimer had become so interested in everything around him that he wanted to walk up the gangway backward, very slowly, but it was raining too hard for that; Arabel picked him up and carried him on board.

  Their cabins were up on the top deck, so they went up in a lift, together with their luggage. Mr. and Mrs. Jones were in a large room with two beds and several armchairs. Arabel and Mortimer were next door; their cabin was smaller but much nicer, for it had bunks with pink blankets, one above the other, instead of mere beds.

  Arabel would have preferred the upper bunk (which was reached by a ladder), but Mortimer climbed into it directly, going up the ladder beak over claw, very fast, and made it quite plain that he was not going to stand for any arguments about their sleeping arrangements.

  "We'll be lucky if he hasn't eaten the ladder before the end of the trip," Mr. Jones said, "seeing how he nibbles the stairs at home."

  "Nevermore," said Mortimer.

  Mr. Jones looked out at the rain, which was splashing down onto the deck outside the porthole.

  "I'm sure I don't know how you're ever going to keep that bird occupied and out of mischief for ten days, not if the weather's like this all the way. Have you brought anything for him to do?"

  "He's got his tie," said Arabel.

  The tie was an old green one that had once belonged to Mr. Jones. Just before Christmas Mortimer had found it in a ragbag and had taken a fancy to it. When he was feeling tired, or bad-tempered, or sulky, or sad, or just thoughtful, he liked to wind the tie round his neck (which he did by taking one end in his beak and then slowly and deliberately turning round and round); when the tie was all wound up, he would proceed to work his head and beak (still holding the other end of the tie) well in under his left wing, and he would then sit like that for a long time. One rather inconvenient feature of this habit was that Mortimer preferred the tie to be ice cold when he put it on; if, when he suddenly felt the need for the tie, he found that it had been left lying in the sun or near the fire, and felt warm to the touch, he was quite likely to fly into a passion, croaking and flapping and jumping up and down and shouting "Nevermore" at the top of his lungs.

  On account of this, when they were at home, in spite of Mrs. Jones's grumbles, Arabel kept the tie in the ice compartment of the refrigerator so that it was always nice and cold, ready for use. And if they were going on a trip somewhere, in Mr. Jones's taxi or in a train, Arabel trailed the tie out of the window, holding tightly to one end. There had been an awkward occasion once when it got wrapped around a motorbike policeman's helmet. But that is another story.

  Arabel began to worry now about the temperature of the tie. Her cabin was centrally heated—very warm—and the portholes were not the kind that opened.

  "Do you think there is a fridge on this ship where we could keep the tie?" she asked her father.

  "I'll see to it for you," said the steward, who was just carrying in Arabel's suitcase. "The lady in the next cabin has a big suite with a kitchenette; I'll put it in her fridge. Then, anytime you want it, ring for me—press that red button there over your dressing table—and I'll come along and get it out for you. My name's Mike."

  "Won't the lady mind?" said Arabel.

  "Not her. It's Miss Brandy Brown, the lady who's in charge of entertainment on the ship; her and that group they call the Stepney Stepalives. She's hardly ever in her cabin."

  Arabel and Mortimer followed Mike into the corridor and watched him unlock the door next to theirs, tuck the tie into Miss Brandy Brown's refrigerator, and then, after he had locked up again, put the bunch of keys he carried back into the pocket of his white jacket.

  "You'll be all right, then," said Mr. Jones. "After we've unpacked, we'll all go along for a cup of tea," and he went back to his and Mrs. Jones's cabin.

  Arabel and Mortimer took stock of their new quarters. As well as the pink-blanketed bunks, they had a desk and a dressing table, two armchairs, and a whole lot of mirrors; Mortimer discovered that by looking into one mirror which faced another, he could see an endless procession of reflected black ravens going off into the distance, which he enjoyed very much indeed.

  There was also a large cupboard for their clothes, and a bathroom.

  When Mortimer discovered the bathroom he became even more enthusiastic, because it had a shower, and he had never come across one before. He spent about twenty minutes pressing all the knobs and getting terrific spouts of hot and cold water. After three inches of water had accumulated on the bathroom floor, Arabel began to be afraid that the water might slop over the doorsill into the bedroom.

  "I think you'd better come out now, Mortimer," she said.

  Mortimer took no notice.

  But then Arabel, happening to glance out of the porthole, s
aw Rumbury Docks sliding past at a very rapid rate.

  "Oh, look, quick, Mortimer!" she said. "We're moving! We're going down the Thames!"

  In fact, now that they thought about it, they could feel the boat bouncing a little through the water, and just then the siren gave a tremendously loud blast: Woooooooooooop. Mortimer nearly jumped out of his feathers at the noise. And when Arabel held him up to look out through the porthole and see all the London docks rushing past, he wasn't as pleased as she had expected him to be; he suddenly looked rather unhappy, as if his breakfast had disagreed with him.

  "My goodness, we're going fast already; we're simply shooting along," said Arabel.

  "Nevermore," muttered Mortimer gloomily.

  Not long after this, Mr. and Mrs. Jones put their heads round the door to say that they were going along to the Rumpus Lounge for tea and entertainment by Miss Brandy Brown.

  "Come on, Mortimer," said Arabel. "I'm sure you'll enjoy that."

  She picked up Mortimer, hugging him tightly, and followed her parents down the long corridor.

  The Rumpus Lounge was a huge room, all decorated in brown and pink and gold, with a balcony round it. On the balcony, and underneath it, were small tables and chairs. In the middle of the room was a big bare space where people were dancing. There was also a grand piano at one side.

  Outside the windows, the banks of the river Thames were getting farther and farther away; in fact, they were almost out of sight, and the Queen of Bethnal Green was rolling and bouncing up and down a good deal more as she moved into the open sea.

  The Jones family sat down at one of the little tables beside the dance floor and a waiter brought them tea and cakes. Mortimer began to look more cheerful.

  A small and very lively lady walked over to the piano. She had hair the color of a rusty chrysanthemum and pink cheeks and flashing eyes and a dress that was absolutely covered with sequins which looked like brand-new tenpenny pieces.

  She began to play the piano and sing a song at the same time.

  "Swinging down to Spain

  Never mind the rain,

  Way, hay, yodelay,

  What a happy holiday

  Just wait till you tell them where you've been

  On the Queen of Bethnal Green!"

  Unfortunately, Mortimer soon began to get overexcited while this was going on and to shout, "Nevermore! Nevermore!" at the end of each verse and sometimes in the middle as well; the lady began to cast some very annoyed glances in their direction, and presently a waiter came to ask if they could please keep their bird a little quieter, as Miss Brandy Brown didn't like being interrupted.

  She started singing another song.

  "Sail bonny boat like a bird in the air

  Over the sea to Spain

  Oh what a riot of fun we'll share

  Out on the bounding main

  Dancing and singing and eating and drinking

  Cancel all care and pain

  If we were clever we'd sail on and never

  Ever go home again..."

  Mortimer seemed to disagree strongly with the sentiment of this song, for he muttered, "Never, never, never, never, never, never, KAAARK," all the time that Miss Brown was singing it, his voice growing louder and louder, until she suddenly lost patience, left the piano, and strode over to their table.

  Keeping their large silver teapot warm was a blue quilted tea cozy; Miss Brown picked this up and clapped it over Mortimer like a fire extinguisher. Then she walked away; just in time, as Mortimer kicked off the tea cozy in about five seconds flat and emerged looking very indignant indeed.

  Luckily, at this moment Lady Dunnage appeared and came up to their table; she was wearing a pink-and-gray silk dress and she carried, perched on a bracelet on her wrist, a gray parrot with a long scarlet tail. Mortimer's eyes almost shot out on stalks when he saw the parrot; he became completely silent and stared with all his might. The parrot stared back. She had a beak that was curved like the back of a spoon, and she looked very knowing indeed.

  "I do hope you are enjoying yourselves, dears," said Lady Dunnage.

  "Oh yes, thank you, dear, we're having ever such a nice time," said Mrs. Jones.

  "This is my parrot, Isabella," said Lady Dunnage.

  "Kaaaark," said Mortimer.

  "I've arranged for you to sit at Captain Mainbrace's table for dinner; he has a son called Henry who is about your age, Arabel. And do let me know if there's anything you want in the meantime."

  "Oh please," said Arabel, "could your parrot come to my cabin and play with Mortimer? I think he'd like that."

  "Certainly," said Lady Dunnage graciously. "I'm sure Isabella would enjoy it, too. When she wants to come back to me, just let her out into the passage; she knows her way all over this ship, as we came on board such a lot while it was being built."

  "Can she talk?" Arabel asked.

  "Not really yet; she's only a year old. All she can say is 'hard cheese.'"

  Arabel went back to her cabin with a bird perched on each shoulder. In spite of the very good tea, she knew that Mortimer had not been enjoying himself in the Rumpus Lounge; somehow his bright black eyes didn't seem as bright as usual, and he kept swallowing; Arabel was worried in case he wasn't going to be happy on the cruise.

  However, once back in the cabin he seemed to cheer up. Arabel had thought the two birds might like to play with marbles or tiddledywinks, both of which she had brought with her, but they did not; they took turns climbing the ladder to the upper bunk and then jumping off on top of each other.

  Then they took turns shutting each other in Arabel's suitcase and bursting out with a loud shriek. Then they had a very enjoyable fight, rolling all over the floor and kicking each other; showers of red, gray, and black feathers flew about. Mortimer shouted, "Nevermore!" and Isabella screamed, "Hard cheese!" Between them they made a lot of noise and presently there was a bang on the door and it burst open.

  There stood Miss Brandy Brown, her eyes flashing even more than the sequins on her dress.

  "Will you stop making such a row? I'm trying to rest after my performance," she said very crossly indeed.

  The instant she opened the door, Isabella flew out through it like a feathered bullet, so that all Miss Brandy Brown saw inside the room was Arabel, looking perfectly tidy, and Mortimer, looking decidedly untidy.

  "If that bird makes any more disturbance I shall tell Captain Mainbrace that he's got to be shut up in a crate in the hold!" she said. Then she went out, slamming the door, and flounced back to her own cabin. She was not best pleased when, ten minutes later, Mike the steward tapped on the door and came in.

  "It's just to fetch the tie, Miss," he said.

  "Tie? What tie?"

  "Tie for the young lady's raven next door," said Mike, taking it from the fridge and tiptoeing out again.

  After that, relations were a bit strained between Mortimer the raven and Miss Brandy Brown.

  3

  On the second day at sea, luckily, the weather was calm, if rather foggy. Arabel spent a good deal of time in the games room, playing table tennis with Henry Mainbrace, the captain's son. This was fine, so long as they managed to keep a rally going and the ball stayed on the table. But Mortimer and Isabella were watching, perched like umpires on a convenient pile of folding deck chairs. Every time a ball went onto the floor either Isabella or Mortimer would swoop down and swallow it. By eleven o'clock each bird had swallowed so many balls that Henry declared he could hear them rattling inside.

  "All those balls can't be good for them," Arabel said rather anxiously.

  "No worse than having eggs inside you," Henry pointed out. "And lots of birds have those. Isabella laid an egg last month."

  "Mortimer has never laid an egg," Arabel said.

  Anyway, at this point Mr. Spicer, the steward who was in charge of the games room, came in, and when he discovered that Mortimer and Isabella between them had swallowed seventeen Ping-Pong balls, he said that was quite enough, and they had better go
and play somewhere else or there would be none left for the other passengers.

  They went and played with the fruit machines for a while, as Mortimer loved putting coins into slots. But nobody won anything, and presently they ran out of cash. Also, Mortimer was discovered posting a whole lot of potato crisps into a letter box labeled SUGGESTIONS.

  "It's supposed to be for people who have good ideas for entertainment," said Henry.

  "Now your father will think people want more potato crisps," said Arabel.

  "Or not so many," said Henry. "Let's go out onto the promenade deck. We can get out through these sliding doors."

  "Oughtn't we to put on our raincoats?" said Arabel, who wasn't sure that Mortimer wanted to go outside.

  Isabella definitely didn't want to go; she flew off in the direction of Lady Dunnage's cabin.

  "It's only fog," said Henry. "Fog doesn't wet you."

  Out on the big triangular deck to the rear of the games room everything looked very misty and mysterious. When Arabel and Henry walked right to the back, they could see the ship's wake, creaming away into the fog like two rows of white knitting. Arabel held tight on to Mortimer's leg in case he should be tempted to try flying. The ship was going so fast that if he did she was afraid he might be left behind. But Mortimer displayed no wish to fly; on the contrary, he did not seem at all interested in the sea. He huddled against Arabel's ear and muttered, "Hek-hek-hek," which was his way of informing her that he wanted to put on his tie.