Harper and the Sea of Secrets Read online

  The children froze as, ever so faintly, the sound of music came drifting up from the pale green waves.

  Chapter Four

  THE BOAT OF BEARDY FISHERMEN

  It didn’t take Liesel long to find an abandoned rowing boat. With a wild splash and a nudge from Smoke, she got the boat into the water. Nate, who had never been in a boat before, clambered in and grabbed the two wooden oars in the bottom. With the wolf yapping at his side and Liesel sitting at the front, he began to steadily row. Soon they were out of icy shallows and close to the boat of beardy fishermen. But the fishermen weren’t taking any notice. Nate wasn’t going to stand for his friend being ignored. He raised the Roman tuba to his lips and blew it like a foghorn.

  The fishermen leaped like startled frogs. One fell into a bucket of eels, one almost toppled overboard, whilst another clung to the boat’s white sail in terror. Then they spotted the two children and scowled. Nate couldn’t see the fishermen clearly, but he could tell that they were men who had very big beards and that they moved as quickly as cats.

  “We heard songs coming from the sea,” Liesel yelled.

  “Nothing to do with us, Miss,” grumbled a fisherman with a telescope.

  “They say the seas are haunted,” chimed in another, who was holding a pipe.

  “Might be your imagination,” mumbled a third with a lot of tattoos.

  Liesel frowned fiercely. “Wait here,” she whispered to Nate, and before anyone could stop her, she sprang from wthe rowing boat and landed aboard the fishermen’s boat.

  Nate laughed as he realized what was happening and Liesel began to climb the sail, her heart beating fast with joy. The fishermen cried out in anger, shaking their fists and bellowing. Though they were quick as cats, Liesel was quick as a mouse, and she reached the top of the mast in no time. You see, Liesel was a girl who dreamed of dancing with pirates and swimming with sharp-finned sharks. This beardy band of fishermen didn’t scare her at all.

  From the top of the sail she spotted a young boy who wasn’t much older than Nate, and she beckoned to him. The boy, whose hair was fiery red, climbed the sail and, when no one was watching, he whispered to Liesel, “Take no notice of them.”

  “I won’t,” she grinned. “My name’s Liesel. Who are you?”

  “Samson,” replied the boy. “This is my mum’s boat, I keep an eye on it for her while she’s selling fish at the market.” Then he added secretively, “These waters are wild and the sea is full of strange sounds.”

  Liesel’s eyes twinkled. “So we did hear music!”

  The boy nodded, and then stared down at the shore and frowned. Leisel quickly followed his gaze, and for a moment she thought she saw a woman at the end of the pier, with sunset hair and a beautiful cello. “You know, you might want to get off the boat before we dock,” said Samson hurriedly. “Why?” asked Liesel. Samson shrugged and fidgeted. “It’s just my mum might get cross if she finds out I let you on to the boat.”

  “Is that your mum?” asked Liesel, pointing back to the shore – but the woman and the cello had disappeared. She pulled a tuneless recorder from her pocket and played three sharp notes. There was a faint whooshing sound, and Samson gasped as an umbrella of stunning scarlet silk descended from the clouds.

  “Grab on,” Ferdie yelled, reaching out to his sister. With a quick wave to Samson and the speechless fisherman below, Liesel leaped into her brother’s arms, and away they all soared back to the beach, sweeping up Nate and Smoke as they went.

  The tide was going out fast and, as they reached the pebbles, the children noticed that all along the crumbling pier children were perched with fishing lines, happily catching crabs. Nate had never touched a crab before. Ferdie stayed with Smoke so she didn’t munch all the bait. Harper led Nate up on to the pier and Midnight reached out a long claw, plucking a small red crab from a bucket for Nate.

  Liesel did what a mouse might do: she darted and scampered along the pier until she reached the very end, where she crouched down low and gazed at the lapping sea. There below her, wading through the water, was Samson, the fiery-haired boy from the boat.

  Liesel was about to call out when a seagull swooped from the air, trying to peck a piece of bacon. Liesel shooed it away. When she looked back, Samson was gone. Nowhere to be seen. He seemed to have vanished into the soft sea air.

  Chapter Five

  A LULLABY OF LOST SHIPS

  Twilight fell across the City of Gulls and the sea turned fish-scale grey. “It’s odd that everyone here is so grumpy,” said Nate as they wandered back to the Seaside Pavilion.

  “But not Slim Joe!” beamed Ferdie, pulling out the piece of parchment and showing it to his friends. “It’s a map of all the tunnels below the city. They all lead to the same place: Gull Island.”

  “Wow,” breathed Nate, feeling the edges. He could always tell how old a note or letter was by the amount of creases that crossed it. This map was very old indeed.

  Just then Great Aunt Sassy came tearing out of the doors of the Seaside Pavilion. “Harper, there you are, my love!” she cooed, giving her a warm hug. “Do go inside – we’re in room seven. There are plenty of beds for all.”

  The children gazed at the bundle of splendid costumes billowing in Sassy’s arms. “These precious outfits are for the festival – if we can find the instruments,” Sassy sighed. Harper spotted a bright blue scarf, Liesel eyed a wondrous purple cloak, Ferdie admired a rather stylish tweed jacket and Nate felt the whisper of velvet.

  “Well, I’d better deliver them to the orchestra just the same,” Sassy smiled. With a swish of lavender silk, she was gone, sweeping down the stairs and into the evening mist.

  The children dashed inside and found room seven, which was indeed full of beds! There was a bunk bed, a queen’s bed, a sofa bed, a hammock, a basket, a camp bed and a very bouncy waterbed. The most remarkable thing about the waterbed was that curled up happily in the middle of it was Midnight!

  How he got into the room, or knew which bed Harper might choose, was a mystery. You see, Midnight was a most unusual cat. He seemed to know more about Harper than she did herself, sometimes prowling three steps behind, other times appearing at the very place she was supposed to be.

  Harper curled up next to him, stroking his nightshade fur. “You’re my best friend,” she whispered.

  Ferdie swung from the bunk to the sofa, before deciding the hammock was the perfect poet’s nest. Liesel at once curled up in thebasket, much like a tired little mouse. Nate and Smoke settled eagerly down in the camp bed, the wolf becoming a pillow of claws and tail.

  The moon cast bold shadows, and the children, the cat and the wolf drifted into a deep and wondrous slumber.

  In her dream, Harper was lying upon the double bass, plucking its fine strings as it floated out to sea. All around her, stars reflected on the surf, dancing and glimmering to the tune she played: a shanty of salt and sorrows that whispered of wonder and waves.

  Then suddenly there was howling and meowing, and someone was shaking her awake. “Harper, the sea is singing!” Ferdie cried.

  Harper blinked her tired eyes and found that she wasn’t playing the double bass or sailing out to sea. She was lying on the waterbed, and the glorious song from her dream was echoing up from the beach.

  Smoke and Midnight led the way out of their room and down to the beach where the children gathered listening to a song as mysterious as the moon that shimmered on the far-off waves. “If only we could reach the sea,” sighed Harper.

  Nate sniffed the dry salty air and shook his head. “Tide’s too far out,” he said.

  “And it’s too dark to see anything,” Ferdie frowned.

  “Not if you have these,” came a voice through the moonlight.

  The children turned to see Great Aunt Sassy leaning dramatically against the cherry-wood piano, clutching an armful of tiny lanterns, which flickered like fairy lights.

  Around her were all the instruments they had brought from the Tall Apartment Block. At once
Harper knew what they needed to do. “Grab an instrument,” she cried, “Great Aunt Sassy, follow me to the sea!”

  A little while later, Harper and Midnight were sitting in the Scarlet Umbrella, gently guiding it across silver-bright waves, towing her friends behind in a procession of music and love.

  First came Ferdie, Nate and golden-eyed Smoke, riding upon the double bass. Next bobbed Liesel, tucked perfectly into the end of an upturned French horn. Lastly came Great Aunt Sassy, squashed inside a bass drum, her lavender petticoats billowing in the breeze.

  Water lapped softly around them, strings twanged and the children giggled. Then the song of the sea took hold of them and no one dared speak.

  The music was just like in Harper’s dream: a lullaby of lost ships with murmurs of mermaids.

  For Ferdie, it was poetry. He grabbed his pencil and began scrawling words to sing to the tune.

  For Liesel, it was energy, a tug at her toes that she couldn’t ignore. She rose out of the French horn and twirled around upon its edge, like a marvellous midnight flamingo.

  For Nate, it was stillness and beauty, a splendour that gripped him with joy.

  For Sassy, it was a dream of costumes yet to come.

  And for Harper, the melody was many things, but most of all it was love. She leaned over the edge of the Scarlet Umbrella, trying to follow the sound, and gasped. “It’s not just music,” she breathed. “There are lights too.”

  The others peered down into the darkening sea and felt their hearts leap. Deep beneath the surface, glowing flecks of light flared like fallen stars. “It’s like a rainbow at the bottom of the ocean,” Ferdie whispered.

  Nate smiled, for though he couldn’t see the lights, he could sense his friends’ amazement. “Where do you think it’s coming from?” he whispered back.

  Ferdie pulled the map of the smugglers’ tunnels from his pocket and studied it by moonlight. “Perhaps someone is smuggling the instruments to Gull Island,” he yelled.

  They all stared through the dark in the direction of Gull Island, and sure enough, there in the distance, like stars shrouded in mist, was a light.

  “Let’s go there now,” cried Harper, but Great Aunt Sassy softly cleared her throat.

  “Darlings, it’s awfully late and simply too far to sail to.”

  The children, who were shivering and actually couldn’t stop yawning, knew deep down that Sassy was right. “If only we knew where the entrance to the tunnels was,” Ferdie sighed crossly.

  Liesel sat very still in her trombone. She thought of Samson, and how he seemed to have vanished into the sea. In the glow of the moon, she smiled. If anyone was mischievous enough to find a secret door, she was.

  “Leave it to me,” she chuckled.

  Chapter Six

  THE SECRET TUNNEL

  When the soft pink light of dawn spread across the City of Gulls, Liesel was already awake. In fact, she was boinging up and down between the different beds, trying to get everyone’s attention. “Come on, come on – I’ve found the entrance to the smugglers’ tunnel!”

  This got everybody out of bed pretty quickly – apart from Great Aunt Sassy, who was wrapped in a shroud of sheets, snoring loudly.

  The children crept outside, then ran like the wind to the crumbling pier. “How did you find it?” called Harper.

  “I snuck out with Smoke and Midnight as soon as the sun rose and discovered it behind a rock,” Liesel said, plunging knee-deep into icy water and wading to the end of the pier.

  The others followed and, sure enough, cut into the rock behind a thick clump of black seaweed, was a door.

  “Ta-dah!” Liesel yelled, jumping almost as high as the pier. She tried to wrench it open, and her face fell. It was locked.

  Harper fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a hairpin. She handed it to Nate with a hopeful grin. “Will this do?”

  Nate, who could open any door without a key, set about trying to pick the lock. But the pin snapped. The lock wouldn’t budge. “I need something bigger, something sharper,” he mumbled.

  Without any warning, Midnight leaped out of Harper’s arms and swiped something red from the cold water. It was the shell of lobster claw.

  “Good boy,” beamed Nate as he slotted the claw carefully into the lock. With a loud groaning sound, the lock popped open and the door swung wide.

  “Everyone inside,” yelled Ferdie, and once they were all safely through the door, he yanked it shut behind them.

  Suddenly the children were in utter blackness – somewhere very damp that smelled of rust and fishbones. For a moment Midnight’s eyes held the light of the sun, showing the children they were in a small leaky tunnel.

  Then Midnight blinked and they were in darkness once again. But the children were not afraid. They knew that Nate was a boy of many talents, and one of them was that he could walk through the darkness just as easily as if it was day.

  “Hold hands,” he said gently, shuffling to the front of the line. Smoke walked proudly at her master’s side while Nate guided the others further into the dark. Then boy and wolf stopped still. “The tunnel splits into two,” said Nate. “Which one should we take?”

  Nobody knew what to do. Harper closed her eyes and thought hard, and that was when she heard a sound. Not a loud sound, nor a long sound, but a sound that was full of light. It was a single note played on the instrument Harper knew best.

  “This way,” she said, stumbling forwards and leading her friends to the left, for she was certain that at the end of the tunnel, someone was playing the harp. And she was right.

  The four salt-skinned children, the cat and the wolf burst from the tunnel on to a beach of golden sand in a hidden cove on Gull Island.

  Smoke gave an angry snarl, her fur standing up on end. Midnight leaped on to Harper’s shoulders and the children stopped still. In front of them stood a bunch of beardy fishermen, each clutching an instrument like a weapon of war.

  Harper stepped forward and gave them a smile. “I think you might have something that belongs to the orchestra,” she said coolly.

  Chaos broke out and the fishermen all started shouting and stamping, but Harper held their gaze. You see, she had had to face other musicians far more terrifying than this seafaring band.

  “Well, finders keepers. They’re ours now,” jeered the fisherman with the pipe.

  “But why do you need them?” cried Ferdie.

  “Do you know how to play?” added Nate.

  The fishermen fidgeted uncomfortably, then from the middle of them stepped a woman with fiery red hair. She was as fierce and as beautiful as a storm at sea.

  “Who are you?” spluttered Ferdie, who was in secret awe of this pirate-like woman.

  Liesel stared at the woman’s fiery hair and knew exactly who she was. “You’re Samson’s mum, aren’t you?” she smiled.

  The woman’s face softened, “I am, lassie. My name’s Una.”

  “Well, can you please tell us what’s going on?” demanded Liesel.

  Una, to everyone’s surprise, said nothing. Instead, she picked up a fiddle and began to merrily play. She did not play it gracefully, or smoothly, or softly. She played it as if her soul was on fire, leaping around like a wild bird. The sound she made was astonishing.

  Harper held her breath, and as the tune danced into her heart, she thought of the orchestra and their fabulous costumes. Then she pictured the grumpy fishermen who spent every day at sea, learning lullabies of lost ships and the wonders of the waves, and all at once she understood. She opened her eyes and spoke. “You are the ones who know the real Songs of the Sea, aren’t you?”

  The fishermen nodded solemnly.

  “That’s right, lassie,” said Una. “We all play an instrument of some sort – be it a drum or crab basket. And we’re right fed up of the orchestra taking over our festival.”

  Ferdie stood up straighter. He was a serious boy with a serious scarf, and he’d just had a seriously good idea. “What if we lent you some other instruments?”
he suggested. “Then would you give these ones back?”

  There was a lot of muttering and whispering. “How many instruments you got?” asked the fisherman with the telescope.

  “Not enough,” said Nate, listening to the many mumbling voices.

  “I could always play my clam-organ,” came a small voice from the back.

  Everyone turned to see a boy with the same flame-red hair as Una holding up a set of clam-shells. “Samson!” Liesel grinned.

  With a swift wink from Una, Samson started playing the clams like a mini mouth organ. The sound was shrill and funny, like the rushing of water over stones. It gave Harper a wonderful idea. She picked up a large pink shell and blew it like a horn. “If we could find enough shells I could teach you how to be the first-ever seashell band!”

  Chapter Seven

  THE SONGS OF THE SEA FESTIVAL

  Almost at once a collection of seashells appeared on the golden sand. There was a huge grey shell almost bigger than Liesel that Samson and Ferdie strung fishing wire across, turning it into a cello – or shello.

  There was a bundle of mussel shells which could be played like a glockenspiel. There were larger shells that formed fishing-wire fiddles and a chorus of conches that could be played like flutes.

  Harper found the fishermen were all excellent learners, and they knew the songs of the sea by heart. When the sun cast midday shadows, the band of beards were ready for the festival.

  “Was it you playing last night in the tunnels below the sea?” asked Nate as they boarded the boat to sail back to the City of Gulls. The fishermen all chuckled and shook their heads.

  “No,” said the man covered in tattoos. “Nobody knows who plays those strange songs.”

  Liesel, who was perched at the top of the sail with Samson, gazed at the sea. It was as still as ice. Then, just for a second, she saw the surface break, and something strange and mythical rose out of the water. “I saw a sea dragon!” she gasped.