In an Adventure With Napoleon (13 page)

he pirates walked briskly back and forth across the living room, which now, according to the banner hung across the wall, wasn’t called the living room, it was called the ‘Election Campaign Headquarters’. The walking briskly back and forth didn’t achieve much but the Pirate Captain liked how it made everything look busy and dynamic. So far, most of the morning’s strategy meeting had been devoted to coming up with a political logo. The pirates were very keen that it should reflect both the Captain’s caring, inclusive side, but also his tough leadership qualities. After a lot of debate they had eventually decided on a picture of a bush baby holding a brick.

‘So, what’s next on the agenda, chief of staff?’ asked
the Pirate Captain, plumping himself down on the sofa.

‘We should probably work on your manifesto, Captain,’ replied the chief of staff, who was formerly known as the pirate with a scarf.

‘That sounds exciting. Manifesto. Man-i-fes-to … Any ideas?’

‘Well,’ said the pirate in green, consulting his clipboard. ‘I thought we’d emphasise your commitment to free healthcare for all.’

‘Oh yes. It’s like I’m always saying – if I decide I want an extra ear, or a double set of teeth, like a shark, I should be able to get it paid for by the state. Here’s the slogan: “The Pirate Captain Says: Extra appendages from cradle to grave.” Write that down.’

‘I don’t think that’s in the remit of the Head of the Residents’ Association, Captain,’ said the pirate in red, who had been put on duty making bunting to keep him out of trouble. The Pirate Captain threw an election pamphlet at his head.

‘Pirate Captain, has it occurred to you that perhaps you’re not really cut out for politics?’ said Jennifer, who was allowed to speak freely about this sort of thing, because the rest of the pirates assumed that as a girl she wasn’t attuned to social niceties. ‘Politics is about belief and ideology. Whereas you just don’t seem to have anything approaching a consistent opinion. Half an hour ago you were saying crime was caused by poverty. Then five minutes later you said it was caused by pirates who
didn’t bring you a cup of tea when you fancied one. And now you think …’

‘That crime is caused by uncomfortable sofas and crumbs in your beard,’ said the Pirate Captain with absolute certainty.

‘See?’ said Jennifer.

The Pirate Captain leaped off the sofa. ‘Ah, but that’s my hidden strength,’ he said with a cheerful wink. ‘I don’t have any actual views on anything so I’ll just give the electorate exactly what they want! It’s a golden opportunity to skip that whole idealistic young candidate stuff and jump straight to the part where I sell out to powerful lobby groups.’

‘I’m afraid St Helena doesn’t really have powerful lobby groups, unless you count the tramp who quite likes the earwigs,’ said the pirate with a scarf. ‘But we do have some polling data on the kind of things the islanders like.’

He handed the Captain a list. It read:

‘Right,’ said the Captain, after a bit of deliberation. ‘They
like Queen Victoria. They like crisps. Bingo! We’ll make a statue of Queen Victoria out of crisps, thus killing two birds with one stone. Honestly, a political mind like mine only comes along once in a generation.’

Before the Pirate Captain could get any further with his crisp/statue plans, they were interrupted by a sharp tap at the window. There, pressed against the glass was the small grimy face of an island urchin.

‘In 1807,’ the urchin began to intone seriously, ‘Napoleon defeated Russian forces at the battle of Friedland. And in 1807 the Pirate Captain got his arm stuck in a drain for an entire month, after trying to pick up what he thought was a shilling, but which turned out to be a shiny pebble. In 1808 Napoleon captured the city of Madrid. And in 1808 the Pirate Captain’s ill-advised attempt at home-brewing grog burnt down half of Portsmouth. In 1809 Napoleon successfully annexed the Papal States. And in 1809 the Pirate Captain tried to start a short-lived business painting horses to look like zebras. Who would you trust with your children’s future? This advertisement was brought to you by the Committee to Re-elect Napoleon.’

And with that the urchin scampered off in the direction of another house.

‘That’s a bit cheeky,’ exclaimed the Pirate Captain.

‘I certainly didn’t expect Napoleon to go negative at this stage of the campaign,’ nodded the pirate with a scarf. ‘There’s only one thing for it, Captain.’

‘You think we should spend some more time discussing my logo? That’s the bit I’ve enjoyed most so far.’

‘No, Captain. I think you need to get out there and set the record straight. Meet your public. And, most importantly, kiss some babies.’

The Pirate Captain sat back down and furrowed his brow. ‘Aaarrr. Not really sure about the baby-kissing business. Always found babies have a bit of a funny smell about them. And I don’t want one sicking up all over my nice blousy shirt, which I believe they’re prone to do at the drop of a hat’

‘Baby kissing is a tried and tested way of getting votes, Captain.’

The Captain didn’t look convinced. ‘Thing is, number two, what’s the voting age nowadays?’

‘It’s eighteen, sir.’

‘Exactly!’ The Pirate Captain waggled an informative finger. ‘So there’s not much point lavishing all this attention on babies when they can’t even vote for me, is there? I should be concentrating on the eighteen-year-olds. And you know which other bit of the electorate is often unfairly overlooked? Women. So really it makes a lot more sense for me to spend the morning kissing eighteen-year-old women.’
²²

‘Right, here we go, number two,’ said the Pirate Captain, hopping up onto a treasure chest that the pirates had set out in the middle of the village green as a makeshift soapbox. The pirate with a scarf handed him a megaphone made out of an empty milk bottle.

‘Oh, this is good,’ said the Captain, waggling the milk bottle. ‘I like the way it makes my voice go all booming.’ He held it up to his lips, and then put it down again, because he realised he hadn’t decided what to say. ‘What do you suggest I start off with?’ he asked the pirate with a scarf.

‘You’re strong on immigration, Captain.’

‘Yes, good idea.’ The Captain cleared his throat and spoke into the megaphone, waving at the small crowd of islanders who had mostly turned up to see what all the noise was about. ‘Hello there, people of St Helena! Did you know that there has recently been a huge increase in immigration? This is a small island and it cannot be expected to cope with an influx of foreigners stealing our jobs and our earwigs. Only last month a band of actual
pirates
was allowed to stay on the island. Are these the kind of people we want as neighbours?’

But before the Pirate Captain really had a chance to get going he noticed the same urchin from before was whispering something to one of the watching islanders. Soon there was a murmuring amongst the crowd and they all started to drift off down towards the beach.

‘Excuse me!’ said the Pirate Captain, calling after them. ‘I haven’t got to the bit where I tell you my bold
plans to hollow out the island and put some kind of steam engine in there. That way we could follow the international dateline around the globe and none of us would ever get any older. A vote for the Pirate Captain is a vote for eternal life!’

‘They’ve gone, Captain,’ said Jennifer.

‘I think something is afoot,’ said the pirate in green.

The Pirate Captain sighed. ‘Well then, I suppose we’d better go and see what on earth could be more interesting than me.’

All the islanders were standing in a circle, looking at something on the shingle in front of them. Snatches of excited chatter drifted up from the beach, and the pirates hurried forward to see what all the fuss was about. When they finally got to the ring of islanders they saw, lying there in an awkward heap, a gigantic dead squid splayed across the rocks. It was about ten feet long, with one big yellow eye the size of a plate, and a body that was the sort of greyish colour that the Pirate Captain tended to turn when he’d eaten too many sausages in one sitting.

‘Is that it?’ said the Pirate Captain, who couldn’t help but look unimpressed. ‘I was expecting something a bit more exciting than a big washed-up squid. Still, it will make a nice change for dinner, I suppose.’

‘How can you even suggest such a thing?’ said an
appalled lady islander. ‘To treat her like this, even now she’s dead!’

‘I beg your pardon?’ said the Captain, baffled.

‘There appears to be more to this matter than a simple beaching,’ explained the Governor.

‘Really? You suspect foul play?’

‘Moider!’ said the pirate from the Bronx, who pretty much lived for these moments.

‘Not murder,’ said the Governor gravely. ‘Suicide.’

‘What on earth makes you think that?’ asked Jennifer. ‘Squids and whales and things wash up all the time, don’t they?’

‘They do, young lady,’ said Napoleon, who seemed to be looking very pleased with himself. ‘But this poor creature was found with a note in its beak.’

‘A note? Really?’ said the Pirate Captain, incredulous. ‘There you go. I always thought they had brains the size of beads.’

‘I must say, Captain, it doesn’t look good,’ said the Governor, handing over a soggy piece of paper and shooting him a disappointed frown. The Pirate Captain fished out his spectacles and started to read:

The Pirate Captain looked up from the note and a row of accusatory faces looked back at him.

‘Well, that’s absurd on so many levels I barely know where to begin,’ he protested. For a start, where would a Giant Squid get St Helena Residents’ Association note-paper? Also the handwriting is normal-sized, whereas surely it should be giant-sized. And finally, just look at the thing! It’s hideous. If I was to date a squid, which I’m not saying I would, though you should never rule these things out, especially if you’ve been at sea for a few months, but if I was, I’d go for one of the more attractive species, like
Sepioteuthis sepioidea
, the Caribbean Reef Squid. Or one of those iridescent ones, they’re actually very pretty. Certainly not this flabby beaked monstrosity, anyhow.’