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Authors: Frances Watts

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BOOK: The Secret of Zanzibar
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Yet despite the discomfort and the putrid smell, she must have drifted off, because she woke suddenly to find that the cart had stopped.

‘Cabbages,' she heard the farmer say. ‘I've been directed to deliver them to the orphanage.'

A voice that obviously belonged to a Queen's Guard replied, ‘Thank goodness you're not taking them to the mess hall.'

There was the sound of laughter, then a second voice said, ‘That's something I'll never understand about Gerandans.' He seemed oblivious to the fact that the farmer and his son were standing right in front of him. ‘I mean, why would you eat rotten cabbages?'

‘Perhaps they can't tell the difference,' said the first voice, and they both laughed harder than ever.

Finally one of the guards managed to choke out, ‘You may pass,' between gales of laughter.

The cart began to move, and from the bumping and jolting Alice could tell that they were being wheeled across cobblestones. That meant they'd done it, she realised; they were in Cornoliana!

‘Let's hope when they deliver the cabbages we can slip off without anyone from the orphanage seeing us,' Alice whispered.

‘Slip off? No way. We want them to see us,' Alex said.

‘What?!'

‘Alice,' said her brother patiently, ‘we're meant to be spreading the word about the protest, aren't we? I mean, we want it to be a big protest, not a secret protest, right?'

‘I guess,' said Alice.

Alex snorted. ‘You guess,' he repeated. ‘Look, sis, if the protest is going to work, we have to tell everyone we meet about it – every Gerandan, that is,' he amended. ‘The surest way to spread the word is, well, to spread the word.'

‘Even to the orphans?'

‘Especially to them. Remember what Slippers said? That's why we're here: kids have the right to stand up for what they believe in. We're doing it, aren't we?'

Alice had to admit that what Alex said made sense. She'd always known that her brother didn't have an ounce of shyness in him, that he could talk to anybody. Now she had an inkling of why Slippers Pink and Solomon Honker had chosen him for this mission. He might fancy
himself a spy, but really he was the opposite: far from being mysterious and secretive, he was straightforward and open. But what about her? Why was she on the mission? The thought of approaching strangers and asking them to risk their lives at an illegal protest made her quail. What qualities did she have that were useful here?

As she was pondering this question Alex said, ‘Do you think I should let everyone know I'm their future king?'

That was why she was here, Alice realised. To keep the future king in line.

They had been bouncing along the cobblestones for about ten minutes when the cart slowed and turned.

‘Is this the orphanage, Dad?' Scooter asked loudly. He was probably doing it for their benefit, Alice suspected.

‘Yes,' said the farmer, equally loudly. ‘We have arrived at the orphanage. We'll tip out the cabbages in the courtyard.
Maybe some of them will roll away
.'

It occurred to Alice that if she and Alex
were
spotted among the cabbages, the farmer might be in big trouble. What if the head of the orphanage was Sourian and guessed that the farmer was smuggling Gerandan spies in the cabbages? But before she could point this out to Alex, the cart was tipped up and they were rolling across the rough wooden boards.
Splat!
As the stench of squashed rotten cabbages filled the air, Alice tried to feel grateful that they had landed on the slimy vegetables instead of the hard stone of the courtyard.

Alice peered out from beneath a particularly pungent cabbage to find that she and Alex and the vegetables were surrounded by a dozen or so mice, ranging in height from tiny to tall. Their expressions varied from surprise to curiosity to disgust.

The disgust was clearest on the face of the tallest mouse, who was glaring at the farmer. ‘What do you mean by bringing me these rotten cabbages?' she asked in an icy voice.

Alice saw Scooter straighten as if about to respond, but his father laid a warning hand on his shoulder and the young mouse bowed his head and stayed silent.

‘I'm sorry, ma'am,' said the farmer. ‘I'm only doing it under orders. Believe me, it wasn't my idea. These poor little mites deserve better than that.'

At that moment one of the poor little mites said, ‘Matron, this cabbage has whiskers,' and another poor little mite added, ‘And this one's got a tail.'

‘Don't be silly, Frank,' chided the matron. ‘Cabbages don't have whiskers – or do they? Whoever is in those cabbages,' she said sternly, ‘stand up right now.'

Alice and Alex got to their feet. Alice waited for her to call for the Queen's Guards – or at least to shriek in horror; she could only imagine how monstrous they must look, dripping with slimy cabbage leaves. Instead, she was astonished to hear the matron say, ‘Ah, I've been expecting you two.'

9

Granville

‘That's it then.' Slippers was sitting on a rock beside the road, her shoulders slumped.

In the time he had known her Alistair had seen her in many moods: furious and determined and cautious and brave. But he had never seen her look as she did now: defeated.

‘All these years,' Slippers continued, her voice flat. ‘All the risks, all the losses – and we're no better off than we were. Zanzibar is still a prisoner. Gerander is still not free.'

‘Come on, Slips,' said Feast Thompson uneasily. ‘Don't give up on me now.'

Slippers lifted her shoulders and let them drop. ‘But without Zanzibar to lead us …'

‘We didn't need to know Zanzibar to join FIG,' Alistair pointed out. ‘We joined because we thought the Sourian occupation of Gerander was wrong.'

‘And there's nothing to stop us carrying out our mission,' said Tibby Rose. ‘We can still try to make the Sourians see the truth about Gerander, and we can still organise a protest and stop the Queen from taking the throne in Cornoliana.'

Slippers had begun to nod while Tibby was talking. ‘Yes,' she said. ‘You're right. We have to proceed with our mission. But you three will have to go on without me. I have to get back to Shetlock. I need to assess what damage has been done to our networks there, see if any other FIG members have been captured or hurt.'

‘Uncle Ebenezer and Aunt Beezer,' said Alistair. ‘They were with Zanzibar. You don't think they were captured too?' He felt a pain in his chest at the thought of his aunt and uncle in trouble.

‘I'll find out,' Slippers promised. ‘And maybe …'

‘Maybe organise a rescue?' Feast suggested.

‘You know me too well, Feast.'

Alistair was glad to see the determined glint in Slippers' eyes.

‘Slips, you can't do it on your own,' Feast argued. ‘I'll come with you.'

Slippers rubbed the back of her neck, her expression worried. ‘But what about Alistair and Tibby Rose? No, Feast. We can't leave them unprotected.'

Alistair felt a moment's qualm. Feast always said that Slippers Pink had a sixth sense for danger, that when she rubbed the back of her neck it usually meant something
wasn't right. Well, it was true: everything was wrong. But at least he could assure her that he and Tibby would be safe.

‘Honestly, Slippers, we'll be fine,' Alistair said. ‘Tibby's house is just up the road, and you've always said that being with Grandpa Nelson and Great-Aunt Harriet is the safest place for us.'

‘I don't know.' Slippers bit her lip, then glanced at Feast Thompson. ‘What do you think, Feast?'

‘I think it's a good solution.'

Slippers narrowed her eyes and tapped a finger against the rock, as if running through the various options. ‘Okay,' she said at last, rising. ‘You're to stay with Nelson and Harriet until we come back for you, understand?'

Alistair and Tibby nodded solemnly.

Slippers' gaze softened. She tugged the ends of Alistair's scarf to straighten it, then smoothed the fur on Tibby's head. ‘We'll see you soon,' she promised.

Feast gave them a wink. ‘Be good, kiddos,' he said.

Alistair and Tibby watched them hurry back down the path they had so recently travelled, then turned towards the town.

‘Let's skirt around the outside,' Alistair suggested, remembering the stir they had caused last time they'd walked through Templeton. The mice of the town were no friends to those with ginger fur.

‘Good idea,' said Tibby. As they walked on, she asked, ‘Do you think we're still meant to meet with Granville
and write a pamphlet to change the Sourians' minds about their occupation of Gerander?' she asked.

‘Slippers did say we should proceed with our mission,' Alistair pointed out. ‘And we can't just sit around doing nothing. Besides, as long as we're staying with your grandpa and great-aunt we'll be safe.'

Tibby smiled. ‘I can't believe I'm going to see them again,' she said happily.

As they climbed the winding lane that led to Tibby's home, her footsteps grew quicker and quicker. ‘I can see the lights of the house!'

‘Tibby, slow down,' Alistair warned. ‘We need to check that it's safe.'

Tibby reluctantly slowed her pace as the big old house loomed into view, the lights from the windows piercing the dark and illuminating patches of grass.

Alistair and Tibby Rose crept through the shadows to the side of the house and peered in the lounge room window. A mouse with steel-grey fur was rocking vigorously in a rocking chair, glancing up from time to time to say something to a snow-white mouse who was pacing the floor, leaning heavily on a walking stick.

‘They look so old and worried,' Tibby cried. ‘Oh, I hope that's not because of me.'

And before Alistair could respond she was darting up the steps to pound on the front door.

There was a pause of a few seconds, then the door opened a crack and a snow-white nose emerged cautiously.

‘Tibby Rose!'

The door was flung open and Tibby Rose rushed inside and threw her arms around her grandfather.

‘Harriet,' called Grandpa Nelson. ‘Harry! It's Tibby Rose!'

As Alistair climbed the steps to the front porch he heard a gasp, and then Great-Aunt Harriet hurried into the entrance hall.

‘Let her go, Nelson,' said the steel-grey mouse. ‘She'll suffocate buried in that stomach of yours.' But Alistair could see that, despite her gruff tone, Harriet's eyes were swimming with tears.

‘Quick, come away from the door, both of you. Nelson, draw the curtains in the lounge room.'

The two old mice began talking at once.

‘Tibby, where have you –?'

‘Tibby, why are you –?'

‘Oh, Tibby, are you home to stay?' Grandpa Nelson asked.

A silence fell as the two old mice looked at Tibby Rose expectantly.

Tibby drew in a breath, and looked over her shoulder at Alistair. ‘I'm sorry,' she said. ‘But I'm not. We're on a mission for FIG.'

‘FIG?!' screeched Great-Aunt Harriet, then looked around in alarm, as if afraid of being overheard. ‘No. Absolutely not. You will have nothing to do with – with
them
, young lady. I forbid it.
We
forbid it, don't we, Nelson?'

‘It's too late for that,' said Tibby Rose. ‘I'm already a member of FIG, just like my parents were.'

‘It's FIG's fault that your mother died,' Great-Aunt Harriet said fiercely.

‘That's not true,' Tibby Rose responded quietly. ‘My mother died because of the Sourians. But she believed in FIG – she believed that Gerander should be free. And I think she would have wanted me to believe that too.'

‘She's right, Harry,' said Grandpa Nelson. ‘It's what Lucia would have wanted.'

For a few seconds the elderly mouse said nothing, her lips pressed together in a tight line. Then her face seemed to sag. ‘I know,' she said. ‘I know she's right. But, Tibby Rose, are you really working for FIG? It's so dangerous, and you're so young. I can't believe they've let you wander around on your own like this. Of all the irresponsible …' She trailed off, as if she couldn't summon the words to describe what she thought of FIG.

‘We weren't meant to be on our own,' Tibby explained. ‘We were with Slippers Pink and Feast Thompson all the way, and Slippers is FIG's chief of operations, you know. It was only when we reached Templeton that she got a message saying Zanzibar was in trouble and they had to leave.'

‘Zanzibar?' said Great-Aunt Harriet. ‘But I thought he –'

‘Hush now, Harry,' Nelson interjected.

‘Do you know Zanzibar?' said Alistair, surprised.

‘I know of him,' the steel-grey mouse said curtly. ‘He's a troublemaker.'

‘No!' Alistair protested. ‘He's not a troublemaker – he's a hero! He's spent his whole life fighting to free his homeland, and he –'

Great-Aunt Harriet turned on him. ‘I'm surprised you dare show your face around here,' she snapped. ‘Tibby Rose would never have left if not for you.'

‘Please, Great-Aunt Harriet, don't say that,' Tibby begged. ‘Alistair's my best friend.'

‘Harry, you'll give yourself a heart attack if you keep carrying on that way,' Grandpa Nelson said. ‘Calm down and let's listen to why they're here … Oh, I don't even care why you're here: I'm just so glad to see you, Tibby.'

Great-Aunt Harriet took a few deep breaths, gazing intently at Tibby Rose. ‘You seem well, Tibby.'

‘I am well,' Tibby assured her. ‘I've …' She shook her head in frustration. ‘I don't know quite how to describe it … I guess I've discovered what I'm capable of,' she said. ‘My years growing up here with you, everything you've taught me, the books I read, the things I made and built – I'm using all that now for a good cause, a cause I believe in.'

‘If that's the case,' said Great-Aunt Harriet, her voice thick with emotion, ‘then I'm very proud.' She cleared her throat. ‘Right, let's go sit in the kitchen. I'll make
hot chocolate and you can tell us what you've been up to since we last saw you.'

‘So now Alistair and I are going to complete the mission on our own. It's up to us to let Sourians know the truth about their occupation of Gerander.'

Alistair had sat quietly as Tibby Rose told her grandpa and great-aunt everything that had happened to them since Alistair had fallen out of the sky onto Tibby Rose's head and the two ginger mice had fled Templeton. It had taken a while to tell, and in that time Alistair had drunk three cups of hot chocolate with marshmallow stirred in. It had been a long time since he had felt so comfortable, so safe.

‘Grandpa,' Tibby said now, ‘I want to meet my mother's godfather. I want to meet Granville.'

The snow-white mouse started, spilling some of his hot chocolate in the process. ‘Granville? What on earth has he got to do with your mission?'

As Great-Aunt Harriet, clucking her tongue, reached for a cloth to wipe up the spill, Tibby explained about the pamphlet they wanted the newspaper editor to help them write, print and distribute.

‘Tibby, you are asking Granville to risk his own life,' her great-aunt said. ‘You realise that, don't you? And what if he's against FIG?'

‘In all the years I've known him, Granville has never said a word for or against FIG,' Grandpa Nelson mused.
‘I really don't know what his thoughts are on the matter. But I'll tell you what …' He thumped his walking stick on the floor decisively. ‘First thing tomorrow morning, I'm going to sound him out.'

‘In the meantime,' his sister added, ‘you two need to stay out of sight.' She looked at Grandpa Nelson. ‘You must admit, it's odd, Tibby Rose turning up now …'

‘Odd how?' Tibby asked, her voice muffled by a marshmallow.

Grandpa Nelson was nodding gravely. ‘Two nights ago, I thought I heard a noise outside,' he told them. ‘I went out to the porch and I'm pretty sure I saw someone disappear into the shadows.'

‘Then last night,' Great-Aunt Harriet took up the story, ‘I saw a face at the window.'

‘Who was it?' Tibby gasped.

Great-Aunt Harriet shook her head. ‘I don't know,' she said grimly. ‘But the very next day you turn up. Did anyone know you were coming here?'

‘No,' said Alistair. ‘No one outside my family and Slippers and Feast.'

They were silent for a moment. Alistair presumed that the others, like him, were running through their minds how it could be that someone was expecting him and Tibby Rose to turn up in Templeton.

Finally, Grandpa Nelson shrugged. ‘It must have been a coincidence,' he said. ‘Probably some kid trying to catch a glimpse of old Harry here.'

Harriet pursed her lips. ‘You never should have spread the story about my illness.'

To explain why she had withdrawn so completely from the life of the town, Grandpa Nelson had told everyone in Templeton that his sister had a terrible disease. In fact, she had been caring for the baby Tibby Rose after her mother's death.

The steel-grey mouse rose from her chair. ‘Now, I'm sure Tibby and Alistair must be tired after their long journey. Tibby, your room is just as you left it. Alistair, come with me.'

They went upstairs and Tibby entered her bedroom with a cry of delight. Alistair followed Great-Aunt Harriet into the library. It was very odd to be back in the neat square room with bookshelves lining two walls. He'd only spent a few minutes in here last time, but it felt strangely natural to be back. Tibby's great-aunt began to make up a bed on the leather sofa.

When she went to fetch a pillow, Alistair ran his fingertips over the spines of a row of books. He recognised a few of his own favourite titles –
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
, featuring the great mouse detective;
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
– and thought of all the books he'd had to leave behind in Smiggins, back in the room he'd shared with his brother and sister. But he didn't live in Smiggins any more, he supposed, not now that they had their parents back. Would they move back to Stubbins, to the old cottage of honey-
coloured stone where they used to live? Or would they move to Gerander? Or … He thought of Shetlock, now in an alliance with Souris. Of Zanzibar, recaptured. They might fail, he realised with a heavy heart. And there would be no home for him and his family, not in Shetlock or Gerander. What then? Would he have to live in hiding forever, always on the run? One day, he thought, he'd love to live in a house like this, a big old rambling house on a hill with a library full of books and nothing to do but read his way through them all.

BOOK: The Secret of Zanzibar
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