Peter Pan in Scarlet by Geraldine McCaughrean Page B

along in his own private train of thought. ‘Cos that’s what treasure is, isn’t it? The thing you want most of all in the whole world to keep and have for your own?’
    At which Fireflyer squeaked: ‘ The eyeballs of his enemies ! ’ and everybody threw things at him. ‘ What ? ’ he protested. ‘I ’spect pirates eat eyeballs ’stead of sherbet lemons! What’s for supper?’
    Ravello brought out the tablecloth and spread it on the ground, with the salt in the middle. They all sat round, cross-legged, and Peter began to imagine them something to eat.
    ‘What’s on the menu, Cap’n?’ asked John, patting at the creased white linen.
    A frown creased Peter’s forehead, so that his eyebrows cocked like little angel-wings. ‘I forget,’ he said. ‘I’m not hungry. You can eat mine if you like.’
    Everyone reached for the invisible food. There was a faint smell of cauliflower and privet. Curly thought his fingers had brushed a cabbage or a spoon, but nobody could quite lay hands on their portion of food. Slightly, who was having trouble stowing his long legs under him, reached out clumsily and knocked over the salt.
    ‘ By Kraken and Krakatoa! ’ bawled Peter Pan jumping to his feet. ‘ Put stones in that boy’s boots and feed him to the fishes! ’ The League stared at him, startled. Peter glared back. ‘ Didn’t you see? What are you all, blind? The clumsy swab spilled the salt! Does he mean to bring down bad luck on us all? By all the shanks in me ratline, I’ve a mind to brand him or strand him here and now! ’
    All eyes turned on Slightly, who blushed, righted the salt pot and apologized.
    ‘I didn’t know you were superstitious, Peter,’ said Wendy, worried by the way the big purple veins were beating in his small white neck.
    ‘I once saw five black cats …’ Tootles began, but broke off, not able to remember whether black cats brought good luck or bad.
    ‘ One for sorrow, two for joy …’ said one Twin.
    ‘That’s magpies,’ said his brother. ‘Or babies.’
    The meal lapsed into silence, then broke up, because meals do not last very long when there is nothing to eat. When they set off to walk again, Slightly was sent to the back of the line. Nobody liked to mention that they had had no supper, in case the Leader lost patience with them, too. Ravello shook the offending salt off the tablecloth, folded it up and put it back in the sea chest, first removing Fireflyer, who had fallen asleep in the collar drawer. Puppy wandered off in search of something more filling than nothing at all.
    Still quivering, like a cat that has been stepped on, Slightly hung back from the rest. He was glad when Fireflyer came and rode on his shoulder. Fireflyer did not care if Slightly had suddenly grown clumsy; he was devoted to the boy who called him a ‘whopping liar’ and who could produce musical notes from A to G. ‘ When you get bigger will you play the rest of the alphabet? ’ Fireflyer asked.
    ‘No,’ said Slightly. ‘You’ll have to make do with A to G.’
    Fireflyer liked nothing better than to chase the notes that came from Slightly’s clarinet—to eat them like chocolates, out of the air. The breves were best—fat and round, with creamy centres. The demi-semi-quavers were fizzy, but it took dozens just to make one mouthful. The sharps were sharp as lemons, and the flats slipped down like slices of cucumber cut very thin. Slightly laughed to see the fairy bite into them, making them pop: it took his mind off the shock of being shouted at by Peter.
    ‘ More music ! More music ! ’ urged Fireflyer.
    ‘What’s the little word?’ said Slightly, who knew the importance of good manners.
    ‘ Dunno ,’ said Fireflyer, who did not.
    The higher the note, the higher Fireflyer had to fly to pop it. ‘What can you see from up there?’ Slightly called, as the fairy soared after a top G.
    ‘ Oooo. Far as far! Mount Etna and the Po River!’ called Fireflyer. ‘Higher! Higher!