The Sunday Delivery Service, page 10
The two girls jumped and Orinthia felt her heart quickening.
‘Monsieur Dubois?’ came a gravelly voice from outside. ‘A phone call has come through for you from Norway. Would you like to come and take it?’
The door handle turned and Orinthia froze. It was Captain Binnacle!
‘Monsieur Dubois, are you in there?’ the captain pressed.
‘Erm . . . oui, oui!’ she quickly replied, mimicking Monsieur Dubois’ French accent as best she could. ‘Don’t come in, I’m . . . erm . . . just getting out of zee bath. I shall take zee call shortly . . .’
‘No problem. Just make your way to the ship’s radio room. Do you know where it is?’
Orinthia swallowed. ‘Oui, oui. Thank you, Captain. Merci.’
There was an uneasy silence as Captain Binnacle walked away, and it was only when the sound of his heavy footsteps had completely dissipated that Orinthia let out a long sigh of relief. Nonetheless, she knew that it was time for her and Dotty to be making a quick exit. She gestured to her friend to get up, and they slipped out of the cabin as quietly and as clandestinely as they’d entered.
‘Oooosh, that was close,’ said Dotty as they slunk down the staircase back towards the Palm Court. ‘I know that Captain Binnacle is your friend now, but breaking into someone else’s cabin would surely warrant walking the plank!’
Orinthia nodded, adrenalin coursing through her like an electrical current.
‘Your French accent was brilliant, though!’ added Dotty, with a playful nudge. ‘I could never have improvised so well. All that oui, oui and merci!’
Orinthia smiled. ‘Kipling’s theatrical ways must have rubbed off on me. If my exploring career doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll have a home on the stage.’
Still shaken by their close call, the two friends rounded the corner to their own sleeping quarters at speed, just in time to find Pem coming out of the cabin. She was dressed for dinner in a full-skirted cocktail dress, with her bouffant hair falling loose around her shoulders. ‘Ahh, there you are!’ she exclaimed. ‘I was wondering where you two had got to. Was just about to send out a search party!’
The girls shared a guilty look.
‘Erm . . . sorry, Mam, there was just so much to see,’ lied Dotty, shiftily averting her gaze. ‘We got distracted.’
Pem raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, go and get changed. It’s nearly time for dinner. We don’t want to be late.’
At eight o’clock a gong sounded, signalling that it was time for dinner. Dressed in their best clothes, Pem, Dotty and Orinthia made their way through the RMS Mollusca to the first-class dining room. Following their encounter with Monsieur Dubois, Orinthia was feeling more than a little apprehensive about leaving the safety of their cabin, and unusually for her, wasn’t feeling very hungry. Dotty was obviously feeling the same, walking silently at her mother’s side like a beefy bodyguard.
‘You two are very quiet this evening,’ said Pem. ‘Everything all right? Nothing bothering you, is there?’
Dotty flinched as if she’d been caught red-handed doing something naughty. ‘What? Oh . . . no, everything’s fine, Mam. We’re just a bit tired, that’s all.’
She glanced to Orinthia to back up her story, who immediately jumped in with, ‘Yeah, it’s been such a long day. Travelling is soooo tiring.’
Pem smiled. ‘Well, it’ll be early nights all round then. A quick dinner then bed for us all.’
At the entrance to the dining room, the trio were greeted by a waiter in a white shirt and black bow tie, and Orinthia was suddenly reminded of the similar penguin-like outfit that she had worn as a disguise when she was last on board. It had been horribly itchy, and she was glad to be wearing a cool cotton blouse and skirt this time round.
‘Good evening,’ said the waiter, dipping his head in welcome. ‘My name is Luca and I’ll be looking after you this evening. Please, follow me, you shall be dining at the top table.’
Orinthia and Dotty looked at each other in delight. The top table? How fancy!
Luca led them through the dining room, and Orinthia marvelled at the elegance of the place. It was panelled in polished mahogany, with ornamental carvings highlighted with gold leaf. Leaded-glass windows obscured the portholes, and alcoves were lit by twinkling crystal lamps. So different to the damp, dingy cargo hold of last year’s voyage!
‘Here we are,’ said Luca, as they arrived at a grand circular table at the far end of the room. It had been laid with a crisp linen tablecloth and had a beautiful vase of fresh flowers at its centre. Luca handed each of them a leather-bound book, adorned with a red tassel. ‘Here are the menus. Any questions, don’t be afraid to ask.’
As they sat down, Orinthia was shocked by how much cutlery had been set at each place – there were knives and forks of all shapes, and spoons of all sizes. How was she going to know which one to use, and when?
When the first course arrived, Orinthia couldn’t believe her eyes. It was an opulent seafood platter, presented on a bed of ice and served with wedges of lemon. There were lobster and prawns, oysters and mussels, not to mention ribbons of smoked salmon and terrines of potted shrimp. As Orinthia’s appetite returned with a vengeance, all thoughts of Monsieur Dubois seemed to disappear.
Having tucked their napkins into their collars as the rest of the diners were doing, the trio dived in. Dotty especially enjoyed cracking open the crab claws and picking out the sweet pink meat, all the while pretending to be a carnivorous kraken of the deep. ‘Surrender, little crustacean!’ she bellowed. ‘I want you in my belly!’
Orinthia had never tasted food so yummy. Even though Mum’s cooking had improved a lot since she’d invested in some cookbooks, this was in a completely different league. It was all that she could do to stop herself picking up her plate and licking it clean!
‘Isn’t this posh?’ said Pem, looking around in awe. ‘Fine food, chandeliers, silver cutlery . . . I feel like Marie Antoinette!’ She thought for a moment. ‘Before she had her head cut off, of course!’
The children laughed.
When the main course arrived it was equally as breathtaking; juicy roast duckling was accompanied by apple sauce and served with buttered greens and creamed carrots. Dessert was the ship’s famous Pineapple Royale – a glistening dome of wobbly orange jelly, decorated with crowns of whipped cream and topped with cherries. With what she hoped was the right spoon, Orinthia plunged into it with a satisfying squelch – it was like delving into the loveliest of gifts!
But something suddenly caught Dotty’s eye, causing her spoon to drop from her grasp. It fell on to her plate with a noisy clatter, and her face turned ashen. When Orinthia turned to see what she was looking at, she soon realized why – Monsieur Dubois was standing in the entrance to the dining salon, waiting to be seated! Orinthia gasped, and as his eyes met with hers, she felt her heart pounding in her chest. But instead of acknowledging that he’d seen her, the moustachioed Frenchman quickly averted his gaze as if they’d never met.
He obviously doesn’t want Pem to know what he’s up to, Orinthia thought to herself. What a sly thing.
She and Dotty watched as Luca escorted him to a table tucked away in the corner of the dining room, as far away from theirs as physically possible. Once seated, he took out the little notebook and pen from his breast pocket once more, placing it down on the table within easy reach. He was obviously planning on spying and making more notes about them, and Orinthia had to stop herself from getting up and snatching it away from him.
‘Girls, what is it?’ asked Pem, looking in the direction of Monsieur Dubois’ table, puzzled. ‘What are you looking at?’
‘It’s . . . erm . . . nothing, Mam,’ Dotty replied curtly, before quickly pushing back her chair. ‘I need to use the bathroom, that’s all.’ She stood up and looked to Orinthia with urgency. ‘You need to go too, right Rinthi?’
Orinthia didn’t, but suspecting her friend had an ulterior motive for wanting to leave the table, she nodded and put down her cutlery. ‘We won’t be long, Pem.’
The two slipped out of the dining room, and it quickly became clear that Orinthia’s suspicions had been correct – her friend hadn’t needed to use the bathroom at all. Dotty pulled her into the shadows of a nearby vestibule, bringing her voice down to a whisper. ‘We told him where we were dining earlier,’ she said, panicked. ‘So he obviously saw it as an opportunity to do some more snooping.’
Orinthia nodded. ‘And did you notice how he looked away when I caught his eye? He blatantly didn’t want your mam to know that he’d spoken to us.’
‘We need to make sure that he doesn’t follow us back to our cabin after dinner,’ said Dotty. ‘The last thing we need is him locking us in so we can’t leave the ship in the morning.’
Orinthia blanched at the thought. ‘Good idea. Let’s go back to the table, make an excuse about being too full to finish our Pineapple Royales, then leave while he’s still eating. He’s not going to sabotage our chances of winning!’
Back in the dining room, Pem had finished her Pineapple Royale and was sitting back with satisfaction. ‘That was delicious,’ she said, wiping the corners of her mouth. ‘Yum yum!’
The girls smiled tentatively, but didn’t sit back down.
Pem’s brow furrowed. ‘What are you waiting for? Get stuck in before the waiter clears your desserts away.’
Orinthia shot a quick glance to Monsieur Dubois who, much to her dismay, was already receiving his main course. They had to get out of here, and fast!
‘I think we’re actually a bit too full to finish our desserts, Mam,’ said Dotty. ‘Can we just go back to the cabin?’
Pem’s eyes widened, her face looking as if she’d just been given the most incredible news. ‘My daughter, too full for pudding? Ha! Well, that’s a first!’
‘I think we both ate a few too many of those crab claws earlier on,’ said Orinthia with a nervous laugh.
‘Back to the cabin it is then,’ said Pem with a chuckle. ‘But you wait until Mum hears that you said no to a sweet treat, Dotty! She’s never going to believe it.’
She got up, and the trio headed to the doorway. But as Pem made her way out, Orinthia noticed that Dotty had hung back. She was at Monsieur Dubois’ table, pointing something out to him through the nearby porthole. He turned to look, and as he did Dotty seized her chance – pilfering the Frenchman’s notebook from the table and stuffing it into her pocket.
‘Come on, Dotty!’ called Pem from the doorway. ‘No dilly-dallying! I thought you said you needed an early night.’
‘Coming, Mum!’ Dotty replied, and she quickly bid farewell to Monsieur Dubois before turning on her heel with a proud grin on her face.
It was midnight, and with Pem finally fast asleep, the two girls hunkered down in the bottom bunk to study the pages of the stolen notebook under the pale light of Orinthia’s torch. Dotty brought out the threatening note that had been left at the Penny Lick, and with a bit of comparing, it didn’t take them long to realize that the two sets of handwriting were exactly the same!
Orinthia felt her breath quicken. ‘It’s a match! The lettering is identical!’ she whispered, pointing to the scrawled inky writing. The y’s have the same long straight line, and the o’s are really small. Even the ink is the same shade of blue.’
‘It’s the proof that we needed,’ Dotty replied urgently. ‘It’s just too much of a coincidence that Monsieur Dubois knew your name and knew about Fosse and Falaise. And now this! He did come to Little Penhallow. He has been spying on us.’
Orinthia pulled the blankets up to her ears – she didn’t want Dotty to see the sheer terror that was no doubt plastered across her face. ‘We need to make a plan for when we reach Norway tomorrow morning,’ she said, trying to keep her voice level. ‘No doubt Monsieur Dubois will try and follow us to the farm. We somehow need to stop him from disembarking, so we can make a getaway from the ship without being spotted.’
Dotty nodded, quickly checking that her mum was still asleep. ‘But how are we going to do that?’
Orinthia thought for a moment. Could they hide in the cargo hold once the ship had moored and wait for Monsieur Dubois to disembark, perhaps? No, Pem would be worried sick if she thought they were missing. What about if they barricaded Monsieur Dubois in his cabin? No, that would be completely irresponsible.
‘What about Mog?’ suggested Dotty. ‘Maybe he could lend a hand? Didn’t he help you and Séafra make your escape from the Mollusca last time?’
Orinthia’s lips parted at the idea, and she had to stop herself yelping out with glee. ‘That’s a brilliant idea, Dot. Mog knows the ship better than anyone. He’ll know what to do. We’ll go find him first thing in the morning.’
Dotty nodded, and having given her friend the quietest of high fives, Orinthia scampered up to her own bunk and clicked off her torch.
Morning came, bringing the Scandinavian coastline with it. After a breakfast of pastries and fresh fruit, it was time to get ready to disembark. As much as Dotty and Orinthia had been desperate to go and talk to Mog about their proposed plan, Pem hadn’t given them a moment’s privacy all morning. So they readied their luggage as quickly as possible and headed up to the top deck, under the pretence that they were going to say goodbye to Mog and Captain Binnacle.
With the wind in their hair, they ran to the bow of Mollusca. Up ahead, Bergen was coming into view, its port bathed in dazzling sunlight. Usually, Orinthia would have taken a moment to enjoy the scenery, but she knew she and Dotty didn’t have much time. They had to find Mog as soon as possible and ask him to stall Monsieur Dubois!
Luckily for them, good fortune was on their side, and it wasn’t long before they spotted the red-headed boy up in the crow’s nest.
‘Good morning, ladies,’ he said, tipping an imaginary hat as he climbed down one-handed. ‘Did you sleep well? Was the cabin to your satisfaction?’
‘It was great, thanks,’ Orinthia replied, perhaps a little too abruptly. ‘But we need to ask you something, Mog. We need your help!’
The boy’s brow furrowed. ‘Oh dear, you’re not in trouble again, are you? You don’t need to make another escape in a freight crate?’
‘No,’ Orinthia replied. ‘But it’s really important. Now listen up . . .’ She quickly relayed to Mog what had happened in the dining room the previous night, and her and Dotty’s theory about Monsieur Dubois’ intentions. ‘And that’s why we need to try and stall him. Do you think you can help us?’
Mog puffed out his cheeks. ‘There’s certainly never a dull moment when you’re on board, Rinthi! Does trouble follow you around or do you just go chasing it?’ He raised an eyebrow and Orinthia felt her heart sink. Now that Mog was a deck cadet, was he going to be unwilling to lend a hand? Would it be too much of a risk for him to help her once again?
She needn’t have worried. A huge grin spread across Mog’s face and he tapped the side of his nose. ‘Leave it with me.’
Although Orinthia had no idea what Mog was planning, she knew that he could be trusted, and as the RMS Mollusca was piloted to shore, all she and Dotty could do was pray that he’d come good on his word.
Pem had joined them up on deck, and the trio sat on their upturned suitcases, watching as Bergen drew closer and closer. In the port, fishing boats were bobbing at anchor, their ropes criss-crossed like the lines of an etching. Along the quayside, rows of higgledy-piggledy wooden townhouses stood gable to gable – their cladding stained in shades of white, yellow and rust. And behind them, a range of craggy, verdant mountains rose up, their peaks disappearing into the clouds.
‘Look! I can see a Norwegian flag!’ said Pem, spotting the bright red banner with its blue-and-white cross flying at mast on the dock.
‘And can you see that?’ said Dotty, pointing out the two bottle-green carriages travelling up an impossibly steep hillside. ‘They look like flying cars!’
‘That’s the Fløibanen Funicular,’ said Pem. ‘My guidebook says that the carriages go right to the top of the mountain. I bet there’s some incredible views from up there.’
‘Oh, there certainly are,’ came an unexpected voice from behind. ‘I took my entire family in one, the last time we visited Bergen.’
The trio turned and Orinthia had to suppress a yelp.
Monsieur Dubois was looming over them, pressing down on to his walking cane. Once again, he stood rigid in a firmly pressed suit and bowler hat.
‘Bonjour, girls,’ he said with a saccharine smile. ‘Glorious morning, is it not?’
Orinthia and Dotty looked to each other in panic, neither answering. What was Monsieur Dubois doing up on deck? Why hadn’t Mog stalled him?
‘Girls, aren’t you going to answer the gentleman?’ asked Pem. ‘Where are your manners?’
‘Oh, do not worry,’ he replied with a chuckle. ‘I am sure they are just distracted by zee wonderful views.’ He extended a hand to Pem, but Orinthia noticed that he didn’t give her his name. After all, if he introduced himself as the chairman of the French Society of Ice Cream Enthusiasts, then no doubt she would question him further.
Orinthia was just about to suggest that they move to the aft, when Captain Binnacle appeared and tapped Monsieur Dubois firmly on the shoulder. ‘Excuse me, sir, could I have a word?’ he asked.
Monsieur Dubois balked. ‘Erm . . . well, bien sûr, Captain. Although may I ask what about? We are just about to disembark, after all.’
‘I just need to go through a discrepancy with regard to your passport. It won’t take long.’
‘But . . . but that is preposterous!’ said the Frenchman, his voice rising sharply. ‘There . . . there is nothing wrong with my passport!’
Despite his tone, Captain Binnacle didn’t flinch. ‘As I said, it won’t take long. Shall we go to my office?’ He held out a hand towards the nearby stairwell, and with a loud huff, Monsieur Dubois picked up his suitcases and followed him downstairs.
