Kiki said nothing more for a time. Uncle Jocelyn came to the conclusion that he had been mistaken, and he dropped his head to study his papers once more.
Where’s your handkerchief? asked Kiki sternly.
Uncle Jocelyn felt sure that his wife was somewhere in the room, for Kiki imitated Aunt Polly’s voice very well. He groped in his pocket for a handkerchief.
Good boy, said the parrot. Don’t forget to wipe your feet now.
They’re not dirty, Polly, said Uncle Jocelyn in surprise, thinking that he was speaking to his wife. He was puzzled and annoyed. Aunt Polly did not usually come and disturb him like this by giving him unnecessary orders. He turned round to tell her to go, but could not see her.
Kiki gave a hollow cough, exactly like Jo-Jo’s. Uncle Jocelyn, now certain that the black man was also in the room, felt most irritable. Why must everyone walk in and disturb him today? Really, it was unbearable.
Get out, he said, thinking that he was speaking to Jo-Jo. I’m busy.
Oh, you naughty boy, said the parrot, in a reproving tone. Then it coughed again, and gave a realistic sneeze. Then, for a while, there was complete silence.
Uncle Jocelyn settled down again, forgetting all about the interruption at once. Kiki did not like being ignored like that. She flew from the book-shelf on to Uncle Jocelyn’s grey head, giving one of her railway-engine screams as she did so.
Poor Uncle Jocelyn leapt to his feet, clutched at his head, dislodged Kiki, and gave a yell that brought Aunt Polly into the room at once. Kiki sailed out of the window, making a cackling sound that sounded just like laughter.
What’s the matter, Jocelyn? asked Aunt Polly alarmed.
Uncle Jocelyn was in a rage. People have been in and out of this room all the morning, telling me to wipe my feet and not to whistle, and somebody threw something at my head, he fumed.
Oh that was only Kiki, said Aunt Polly, beginning to smile.
Only Kiki! And who on earth is Kiki? shouted Uncle Jocelyn, furious at seeing his wife smile at his troubles instead of sympathising with them.
The parrot, said Aunt Polly. The boy’s parrot, you know.
Uncle Jocelyn had forgotten all about Jack and Lucy-Ann. He stared at his wife as if she had gone mad.
What boy and what parrot? he demanded. Have you gone crazy, Polly?
Oh dear, sighed Aunt Polly. How you do forget things, Jocelyn! She reminded him of the two children who had come for the holidays, and explained about Kiki. She’s the cleverest parrot you ever saw, said Aunt Polly, who had now completely lost her heart to Kiki.
Well, said Uncle Jocelyn grimly, all I can say is that, if that parrot is as clever as you think it is, it will keep out of my way because I shall throw all my paperweights at it if it comes in here again.
Aunt Polly, thinking of her husband’s very bad aim whenever he threw anything, gave a glance at the window. She thought she had better keep it closed, or she might find everything in the room smashed by paperweights one day. Dear, dear, what annoying things did happen, to be sure! If it wasn’t children clamouring for more to eat, it was Jo-Jo worrying her; and if it wasn’t Jo-Jo, it was the parrot; and if it wasn’t the parrot, it was Uncle Jocelyn threatening to throw his paperweights about. Aunt Polly closed the window firmly, went out of the room, and shut the door sharply.
Don’t slam the door, came Kiki’s voice from the passage. And how many times have I …
But for once Aunt Polly had no kind word for Kiki. You’re a bad bird, she said sternly to the parrot. A Very bad bird.
Kiki sailed down the passage with an indignant screech. She would find Jack. Jack was always good and kind to her. Where was Jack?
Jack was not with the others. He had gone with his field-glasses to the top of the cliff, and was lying on his back, looking with pleasure at the birds soaring above his head. Kiki landed on his middle and made him jump.
Oh it’s you, Kiki. Be careful with your claws, for goodness’ sake. I’ve only got my bathing-suit on. Now keep quiet, or you’ll frighten away the birds. I’ve already seen five different kinds of gulls today.
Jack got tired of lying on his back at last. He sat up, pushed Kiki off his middle, and blinked round. He put his field-glasses to his eyes again, and looked out over the sea in the direction of the Isle of Gloom. He had not seen it properly yet.
But today, though most of the distant hills behind him were lost in the heat-haze, for some reason or other the island could be quite plainly seen, jutting up from the sea to the west. Gosh! said Jack, in surprise. There’s that mystery island that Jo-Jo says is a bad island. How clearly it can be seen today! I can see hills jutting up and I can even see the waves dashing spray over the rocks that go round it!
Jack could not see any birds on the island, for his glasses were not strong enough to show him anything more than the island itself and its hills. But the boy felt certain that it was full of birds.
Rare birds, he said to himself. Birds that people don’t know any more. Birds that might nest there undisturbed year after year, and be as tame as cats. Golly, I wish I could go there. What a tiresome nuisance Jo-Jo is not to let us use his boat! We could get to the island in it quite easily if the sea was as calm as it is today. Blow Jo-Jo!
The boy swept his glasses around the jagged coast, and then stared hard in surprise at something. It couldn’t be somebody rowing a boat along the coast, about a mile or so away. Surely it couldn’t. Jo-Jo had said that nobody but himself had a boat for miles and miles and Aunt Polly had said that nobody lived anywhere near Craggy-Tops at all not nearer than six or seven miles, anyway.
And yet there’s someone in a boat out there on the sea to the west of this cliff, said Jack, puzzled. Who is it? I suppose it must be Jo-Jo.
The man in the boat was too far away to make out. It might be Jo-Jo and it might not. Jack came to the conclusion that it must be. He glanced at the sun. It was pretty high, so it must be dinner-time. He’d go back, and on the way he would look and see if Jo-Jo’s boat was tied up at the usual place. If it was gone, then the man in the boat must be Jo-Jo.
But the boat was not gone. It was in its usual place, firmly tied to its post, rocking gently in the little harbour near the house. And there was Jo-Jo, too, collecting driftwood from the beach for the kitchen fire. Then there must be someone else not far away who had a boat of his own.
Jack ran to tell the others. They were surprised and pleased. We’ll go and find out who he is, and pal up with him, and maybe he’ll take us out fishing in the boat, said Philip at once. Good for you, Freckles. Your old field-glasses have found out something besides birds for you.
We’ll go and see him tomorrow, said Jack. What I really want is a chance to go out to the Isle of Gloom and see if there are any rare birds there. I just feel I must go there! I really have got a sort of hunch about it.
We won’t tell Jo-Jo we’ve seen someone else with a boat, said Dinah. He’d only try to stop us. He hates us doing anything we like.
So nothing was said to Jo-Jo or to Aunt Polly about the stranger in the boat. The next day they would find him and talk to him.
But something was to happen before the next day came.
Chapter 10
NIGHT ADVENTURE
That night Jack could not sleep. The moon was full and shone in at his window. The moonlight fell on to his face and he lay there, staring at the big silvery moon, thinking of the gulls he had seen gliding and circling on the wind, and the big black cormorants that stood on the rocks, their beaks wide open as they digested the fish they had caught.
He remembered the Isle of Gloom, as he had seen it that morning. It looked mysterious and exciting so far away, and lonely and desolate. Yet people had lived there once. Why did no-one live there now? Was it so desolate that no-one could make a living there? What was it like?