Kidnap Island Read online

  After about 30 minutes’ steady sailing, Jonny pointed out Smugglers’ Creek. “See those posts, they mark the channel. There are mudflats on each side so it’s tricky to sail up without running aground.”

  “Posts?” scoffed Will. “Twigs more like. No wonder I’ve never seen the channel before, it’s hardly well marked.”

  “Not many people know about it, you’re right. Apparently in Roman times it led to a busy harbour and then, more recently, it was a good place for smugglers to sneak barrels of brandy ashore, hence the name.” Jonny was secretly quite interested in the history of his beloved harbour. “There’s no real reason to go up it now as there’s nowhere to land cos the shore is all owned by the big houses.”

  Jonny took the helm and skilfully tacked the boat up the narrow channel. Despite his care, though, the centreboard still touched the mud a couple of times and Will had to pull it partway up. “You’d struggle to get up here at anything but high tide,” he pointed out.

  “Yea, it almost dries out apart from a channel of water down the middle,” Jonny explained.

  Now, though, the tide was almost right in and the creek was filled with water, although much of it was very shallow. If someone didn’t know better, they would think there’d be plenty of room to sail up the creek but the small twigs sticking out at intervals showed that only a narrow channel up the centre was navigable in anything larger than a canoe. On the left side of the creek were four or five large waterside properties, some clad with wood in a New England style, another a super-modern glass and stainless steel structure, and one a rather out of place mock Tudor affair. All had gardens sweeping down to the water and two of the homes had little private jetties.

  The right-hand side of the creek, by contrast, was unspoiled by development and heavily wooded, with trees and undergrowth growing right to the water’s edge. The trees caused a wind shadow so the children’s boat was just drifting up the creek, which gave plenty of opportunity for them to look for the Jenny Wren.

  “I think your mate at the boatyard was wrong,” said Will. “There couldn’t be a motorboat up here, there’s not enough water for it and, besides, we’d see it.”

  The others silently agreed and Eric felt his hopes were being dashed. Would he ever see his father again? Jonny felt they’d gone as far up the channel as they could and had tacked the boat slowly found to head out when Louisa pointed. “Look, up there! Is that a boat?”

  They followed her finger and, sure enough, there was a motor cruiser hidden away up a tiny inlet in the trees. Jonny steered the dinghy as close as he dared and was surprised to see more twigs marking a secondary channel leading into the woods. The boat was stern on to them and pretty much filled the inlet. “Look at the name,” said Eric excitedly. In faded letters on the transom were the words ‘Jenny Wren’.

  “Jenny Wren? She looks more like a dodo,” joked Will as he examined the boat. Despite his inexperience in dinghies, Will really did enjoy sailing and, like Jonny, had little time for motor boats. This one was particularly ugly; it had a wide transom and an unnaturally high superstructure with a glass patio door leading out to the cockpit. Above the cabin was a flying bridge that made the white boat look ridiculously top heavy.

  “I wouldn’t want to go out in a heavy sea in that bathtub,” said Jonny.

  “Well you don’t have to,” said Louisa. “We just need to find out if Eric’s dad is on board.”

  “And how do we do that?” asked Will.

  “We call out for him, of course,” said Eric, eager to find out if his dad really was just a few feet from him.

  “No!” Jonny hissed. “We can’t do that, there could be other people on the boat or nearby. One of those houses may be linked to the mooring, too. Besides, your dad could be gagged or drugged and unable to answer us. No, the only answer is to sneak on board and have a look.”

  “I know,” said Louisa. “These woods can’t be very deep as the main part of the harbour is on the other side. Let’s go out of this creek and land on the other side where no one will question what we’re doing. We can then sneak through the woods and creep up on the boat unseen.”

  “Good plan,” said Jonny looking admiringly at Louisa, and immediately pulled on the tiller to sail the dinghy back out into the open water of the harbour.

  Chapter Fifteen

  What Louisa had realised was that the woods where the motorboat was moored were on what was effectively a small peninsula with the water of the creek on one side and the main harbour on the other. Landing their dinghy on the pebbly shore of the harbour wouldn’t attract any attention, so that’s just what the children did.

  “We don’t need to pull it far up the beach,” said Jonny, “the tide’s turning now. That’ll do us.”

  “We’d best be dead quiet,” said Eric. “What about the dog? Will he make a noise?”

  “Not if we tell him to be quiet. You’re a good boy aren’t you, Ainslie?” Jonny ruffled his dog’s ears lovingly. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Thankfully, the woods weren’t too thick, certainly not like those on Folney Island, and the children found it easy to sneak through to where they thought the boat was.

  “It’s not here,” whispered Will, as they found themselves coming out of the wood at the creek side. “We need to go further upstream I think.”

  “Ok, in that case let’s go back into the woods so no one’ll see us from the big houses,” suggested Jonny.

  They crept into the woods and circled round so they would come out close to where they now estimated the motor cruiser to be.

  “Look, there she is,” whispered Louisa. And, sure enough, there was the dirty white hull just visible through the trees and looking very out of place in a wood.

  “Let’s sneak up quietly and listen if we can hear anyone on board,” said Jonny. “No noise, ok?”

  They crept up to the boat’s bow and then walked around the muddy edge of the inlet to the cockpit. There was no sign of life on board.

  “Gosh, what a mess this thing’s in,” said Jonny in disgust; he believed that boats, of whatever kind, should be looked after. The white fibreglass hull and topsides were scratched and smeared with green slime, and the cockpit floor was covered in rotting leaves. It was obvious that the boat had been lying under the trees for a long time.

  “Damn, the curtains are all closed. How can we find out if Eric’s dad is inside?” asked Will.

  “We could knock on the window,” Louisa suggested.

  “But what if the bad guys are in there? whispered Eric, who was looking very nervous.

  “We could just pretend we were lost or something,” said Louisa.

  “Look, the noise you lot are making would have brought out anyone if they were in there,” pointed out Jonny. “Besides, look at that dirty great padlock on the door; it’s been locked from the outside so it’s pretty obvious that if anyone’s in there they can’t get out.”

  Will was climbing into the cockpit. “What are you doing,” asked Eric in surprise.

  “Knocking on the door to see if anyone’s in there.” And with that Will rapped loudly on the glass door. “Listen, what’s that?”

  There was a dull thud from inside the boat. “Dad, is that you?” shouted Eric, who’d also jumped onto the boat. The thudding got more frantic. “It is you, we’ve come to rescue you!”

  Will, meanwhile, had climbed the steps to the flying bridge, where there was a wheel for steering the boat in good weather. “What are you doing?” asked Louisa.

  “Just having a look. I reckon this’d be a laugh to drive at high speed.” Will was now sitting at the helm gripping the small steering wheel and pushing the throttle lever.”

  “Quick guys, get out,” hissed Louisa, “A boat’s coming.” Eric hopped smartly out of the boat but Will was too absorbed with the boat’s controls and navigation instruments and didn’t hear his cousin. By the time he heard the sound of the approaching speedboat it was too late to come down the steps and off the boat, so he dropped to
the floor of the bridge out of sight.

  The other children hid in the undergrowth, Jonny with a calming hand on Ainslie, and watched helplessly as the small speedboat came up alongside the large cruiser. There were two men on board. “That’s them,” whispered a horrified Eric. “The ones who took my dad!”

  “They’re going to catch Will,” breathed Louisa. The men had tied up their small boat and climbed into the cockpit of the larger one.

  “Right, let’s crack on and get out of here quickly, it takes a few hours to cross the Channel,” said one of the men as he undid the padlock on the door to the cabin. The other man was starting to untie the mooring ropes; Jonny could see that the boat wasn’t going to drift away in the quiet creek.

  Then the children heard the sound of a large engine being started. It turned over slowly and then burst into action, chugging softly and deeply. Louisa clutched Jonny’s arm in alarm; “They’re going to motor off with Will on board!”

  “And my dad too,” groaned Eric. “What are we gonna do?” The boat was now backing slowly out of the backwater into the creek. It then turned and headed slowly out of the narrow channel into the main harbour. “What do they mean by crossing the channel?”

  “It’s the English Channel between here and France,” Jonny explained.

  “So they’re taking my dad to France?”

  “I guess so, or maybe the Channel Islands. Damn, what a mess!”

  “Look!” exclaimed Louisa, “It’s Will!” Sure enough, Will was waving frantically at them from the bridge of the slow-moving cruiser.

  “Right, we can’t do anything here, so let’s head back to Folney before the tide drops too far. We don’t want to stuck here for the night,” said Jonny.

  “OK, that’s a good plan,” agreed Louisa. “I’m worried about Will, though, he has a habit of getting himself into trouble.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Will was, he had to admit, bricking himself. He’d spotted the speedboat arriving and had quickly ducked down behind the built-in seat at the back of the flying bridge, and was horrified to hear the men coming aboard. Even more so when the engine was started! He thought about climbing down and giving himself up but didn’t like the sound of the two men; one was well spoken but cold, the other was rough and aggressive and obviously didn’t like taking orders. Will waved madly at his friends as he found himself being taken away into the harbour. The well spoken man had mentioned crossing the Channel; he couldn’t stay hidden for that long and, besides, it was getting cold as the sun dropped and the boat headed towards the open sea. Will snuggled down out of the wind, not caring that it the fibreglass floor was slimy and smelly. He thought hard; what could he do?

  With no plan in mind, he bravely stuck his head over the back of the bridge and, looking down, could see that the cockpit was deserted. The two men were in the cabin steering the boat from the inside helm, which seemed sensible as the weather was certainly turning and it wasn’t flying bridge conditions. Eric’s father must be in there somewhere too. Will spotted the large padlock lying on on the floor and his heart leapt as he had a crazy idea. Surely it wouldn’t work but maybe, just maybe, it would. If he could sneak down and padlock the door shut he could trap the men inside. It was starting to get dark, the engine was roaring and the door into the cabin was closed – the odds were on his side. Without stopping to think any more about it, Will quietly slipped down the steep steps, keeping to one side of the cockpit. He crouched down and picked up the padlock, his heart in his mouth. Keeping low, Will moved to the closed door. He could see one of the men sitting at the helm, holding the steering wheel and looking forward through the windscreen. The other man was nowhere in sight; he must been down in the lower cabin, thought Will. He closed the clasp, slipped the padlock over it and tried to lock it but it wouldn’t snap closed – it was just too stiff for the boy’s cold fingers to operate. But did it matter? So long as the clasp was closed and the padlock in place, there was no way the door could be opened from the inside. Will quickly climbed back to his hiding place on the flying bridge. He’d done it!

  But now what? Will finally thought through what he’d achieved. The men couldn’t get out of the cabin but they wouldn’t want or need to come out until they’d reached their destination, wherever that might be – France or the Channel Islands, the boy assumed. Until then, nothing had changed as far as his situation went. Will wondered if there was any way he could take over the control of the boat from the flying bridge, but from what he knew from being on friends’ motorboats, the two steering wheels were linked together and, indeed, he could see the wheel by his head moving from time to time as the helmsman below adjusted the course. If Will attempted to change course, though, the man below would simply pull the steering back, probably without even realising what was happening, so that wouldn’t work. However, if Will did nothing, he’d be stuck out in the cold for hours and then there’d be a massive fuss when they got close to port and the men couldn’t get out. In fact, unless they were able to break the door down, they’d be unable to dock the boat. And if they did manage to get out, and there was a fair chance they would, the men would soon discover Will. The situation seemed hopeless, and then he felt a vibration on his leg.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The wind had dropped almost to nothing and Jonny struggled to bring the dinghy back up the harbour to Folney Island. “Why doesn’t Will keep a paddle onboard?” he asked in exasperation.

  “Look, I can use Will’s buoyancy aid as a paddle,” said Louisa. “It’s new and stiff.” It wasn’t ideal but the girl was able to push the boat through the water with the garment over her hand. Jonny looked at her with admiration.

  Eric wanted to be useful so he paddled with his hand. “Here,” said Jonny, passing him the lid from a sandwich box. “Try using this.” it was hard going, but a combination of improvised paddling and Jonny eking what he could from the sails, they finally got the little boat to the gravelly shore of the island. It was almost dark but Jonny insisted that they pull the boat up out of sight; “Otherwise someone’s bound to spot it in the morning.”

  The three children had to use their phones to light the path through the woods to Eric’s house – the house he was wishing he’d never set eyes on. Once inside, they lit the camping lantern.

  “Anyone fancy a Pot Noodle?” asked Eric.

  “Surely we’ve got something else? We brought loads of food between us,” Louisa replied.

  “Sure, but can you be bothered cooking anything?”

  “No, fair point and I’m starving. Pot Noodle it is then.”

  Eric went Into the kitchen to boil some water for his favourite snack, while Jonny and Louisa flopped onto the sleeping bags, exhausted mentally and physically from their day.

  “Do you reckon it’ll be ok to text Will?” asked Louisa.

  “I don’t see why not. If he’s not been discovered, no one will hear his phone over the noise of the engines,” said Jonny. “And if the men have found him, he’ll either still have his phone or they’ll have taken it off him. Just send a message asking if he’s ok, don’t say anything else in case the men do read it.”

  Louisa quickly wrote and sent a text to Will. “I hope he’s alright,” she said. “He’s a great kid but he acts before he thinks sometimes.”

  “I can imagine,” grinned Jonny. “He seems smart though, he did a great job finding out about the island.”

  “You’re right, he’s mega clever at school but just lacks a bit of common sense when it comes to practical things.”