Pyro Watson and the Hidden Treasure (20 page)

Sunlight. Blue sky. Warm breeze.

And voices.

Mum's voice, Dad's voice, Nan's voice. NAN's voice!

Pyro couldn't believe his ears. They were all there when he woke. Everyone talking at once and the newspapers on the table with Pyro's photo looking out at them.

Geezer was there too, grinning at him from the background.

Pyro giggled.

So did Geezer.

Then, when he'd hugged everyone else and Nan had hugged him back four times, Pyro wandered over and gave Geezer a nudge. He told Geezer how he'd had to wave at people who came to visit. He did his seal impression and made arf-arf-arf noises.

Geezer made some, too. And waved his own flipper about by slipping his arms inside his T-shirt so only
the bottom bits flapped out. Pyro did it, too. Then they waddled about like seals with their legs tight together and their toes pointed out, giggling and spluttering and tripping over.

Pyro's dad didn't look too thrilled and said they should get a football out of the car and play with that instead of giggling around playing girly games. Pyro's mum and his nan said what rot and girls didn't giggle around and play dopey games like that anyway. And
Auntie Mor and Mr Stig had to quickly get everyone moving down to the bakery to buy croissants before it got to be a fight.

Pyro and Geezer wandered along behind.

‘Do you want to meet Min?' Pyro said as they passed the town map.

Geezer grinned. ‘I thought you'd never ask!' he said.

San Simeon looked at the moonlight sparkling on the water. In the old days it would've been a night for pirate chasing and pirate fighting. He lay back down
on the deck of the good ship
Olga
. Beside him was the lovely Calamity and beside her were the little Simeons, one and two and three.

The crew snoozed around them in hammocks that were neatly stitched and darned and smelled like roses in May. Sweet Calamity liked things to be tidy since the children had arrived.

The crew didn't mind. Their swords were sharp and glossy and at the ready under the hammocks. Their yo-ho-hoing was just as loud and mean as it had ever been.

And their daggery knives lay smugly in the chest below decks.

Things were fine and as they ought to be except …

… Every now and then when the moon had her light hidden behind a cloud, San Simeon twitched a little with longing. The crew did too but they pretended it was a flea attack or a loose collywobble …

At times like that he'd take himself into his cabin and run his fingers along the swords that lined the walls. He'd do a quick one-two with his shadow to keep in practice.

Which was just as well, because on nights when the moon was darkened and storms were brewing and thunder rumbling and lightnin' slashing there was another who let his fingers trace the long, curved steel of a blade and gazed gloatingly at treasure that had been plundered from unwary travellers.

There was another treasure that had escaped him and Roaring Roy Bistro knew it. A passing breeze knew it too and whispered it to the gulls who left messages on the decks of the
Olga
so San Simeon would not be caught by surprise.

‘Are you ready?' mermaids crooned when they heard it on the breeze. ‘San Simeon, are you ready?'

San Simeon smiled as he drifted back to his Calamity and the little Simeons one, two, three. ‘I thought you'd never ask,' he smiled.