Arabel and Mortimer (3 page)

"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, saw 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!"