Boating for Beginners (16 page)

'However, when you start my fabulous P-Plan it's wise to have a friend who will monitor your fluctuations, because after the first few days you can get a bit lightheaded and go too far. We women are emotional. The other thing is that it does demand a sacrifice at the start; you're going to be on the toilet a lot, so it's a good idea to have your dinner parties at home rather than risk the queue for the loo in a strange place; and, darlings, with the best will in the world the opera is out. Now I'm going to close here, and you can ask me questions and sign up at that table over there. Thank you all very much.'

Once again the audience went quite wild: indeed, for most it must have been one of the fuller emotional evenings of their lives. A moment later huge mounds of stout women had gathered round the table, signing up for a course of bottled water. Bunny was kissing anyone who passed her lips and saying how enchanted she was.

'Let's leave and get a drink,' urged Marlene — but it was too late. Bunny had seen them and was floating across the room, accepting compliments as she came.

'How nice,' she cooed, holding out her hands. 'I'm glad you got back. But did you get the birds?'

'Yes,' said Gloria. 'Both of them. They're asleep under a table.'

'How very bizarre,' commented Bunny. 'Still, I suppose you know what you're doing. Now I have an important message. Noah wants you to go back with whatever you've got tomorrow. I told him your assistants had been out collecting the minor pieces and that you were doing the really difficult things, and he said to be sure and get a pair of toads and then come straight back. He wants to get on with the ship scene. So could you leave in the morning? I know it's a bind, but you'll have to get the toads now, won't you? In the dark? Well, I'll see you soon, I'm sure,' and she twirled back into the excited throng.

'Well, that proves it, doesn't it? Let's go and see Desi,' said Gloria.

Desi was out of the bath and reading a detective novel. She greeted them with some cynicism. 'Now that your souls are full can you apply your minds to this little problem, perhaps?'

'No,' said Marlene firmly. 'We've got to collect a pair of toads.'

Desi leapt to her feet. 'Toads? Are you mad? First it's poetry and now it's toads. Don't you understand we're in a state of emergency?'

'Desi,' began Gloria, about to be comforting, but Marlene butted in.

'Just what do you think 'we can do? What evidence have we got? We might as well go and collect toads in our last hours. It's not going to make any difference. We're not going to make any difference, but the toads just might, being watery and not eating much, and ...' her voice trailed off and she started to cry.

'She's right you know,' said the orange demon sympathetically. They turned towards the voice and saw the creature sitting beside Marlene's stuffed bird. 'No one's going to believe you, but the toads are important. Tell them what you heard today Desi,' and while Desi explained how Noah and the boys had fixed everything the demon hopped off and made them some hot milk.

'Now listen,' it ordered. 'Unlike the rest of you, I'm not bound by the vagaries of this plot. I can move backwards and forwards and I can tell you that God will flood the world, Noah will float away and unless you lot do your best to stay alive there won't be anyone left to spread the word about what really happened. It doesn't even matter if you forget what really happened; if you need to, invent something else. The vital thing is to have an alternative so that people will realise that there's no such thing as a true story. I'm depending on you. History and literature down the centuries are depending on you. Are you willing to let that baldie and his mad family rewrite the world without any interruptions? Or can I trust you?'

'Just us?' questioned Gloria timidly. 'Just the three of us?'

'Well,' considered the demon, 'you could ask Doris. She's still upset about having to be an unbelieving crone in what she thinks is Noah's film. I expect she'd throw in her lot with you. Talk to her in the morning. I'll let her know you're coming.'

'And how are we going to survive the hurricanes and the food problem?' Desi wanted to know. 'If we take a boat they'll find out.'

'Pack up a collapsible dinghy each and as much food as you can trail behind in a watertight container. Hide it all in the attic of this hotel. They know me there. You'll be safe. It might work, or it might not, but you can try.'

'If you're so smart how come you can't tell us whether or not we'll survive?' asked Marlene, feeling put out.

The creature smiled up at her. 'If I told you that now, it would ruin the ending, wouldn't it?' and he vanished.

'So what do we do now?' Gloria was beginning to sense helplessness setting in and she wanted to evict it quickly. 'I think we should get the toads,' suggested Marlene. 'Every year twenty tons of toads get squashed, just trying to mate. The least we can do is save a few ounces for posterity,' and so the two of them set off with a flashlight into the garden, leaving Desi to start packing.

In Nineveh, meanwhile, Mrs Munde was experiencing a very different kind of encounter — not demons for her, but suitors. She felt like a schoolgirl again because the secretary of NAFF, Herb Mill, had asked her to marry him. He had been in the crowd while she had spoken to the heathen and fought off the nasty man from SCOFF, and his heart had been full of the kind of wonder and admiration that can only be called love. Being a decisive man he had followed her to her hotel and asked her to be his wife. He couldn't give her any more children, but he could help her set up a new home with an Aga and no fridge. They might even start a little business — a cake shop perhaps - and Mrs Munde had said, yes! yes! to it all. They could use her compensation money to buy a freehold and a big oven. What would they call it? 'Just Desserts', she decided, as a warning to the heedless and a consolation to the believing. Her arm now seemed a small price to pay for the happiness she was finding. A kitchen after all; not so grand, but ample. She had to tell Gloria, and as she gazed up at the stars they seemed especially bright. 'For me,' she thought. 'They're shining for me.'

Rita was beginning to wonder about her husband. He had been unusually silent all through dinner. But about half an hour after they'd finished their coffee and were sitting watching the television he spoke. 'Why don't we go for a walk in the woods?'

'What for?' she said, not wanting to leave the fire or the TV.

'Oh, for old times' sake. Like we used to. Moonlight ... you know.'

'There's no moon tonight, and you hate the woods.'

'Well, I'd like a change then,' said Japeth defensively. 'A man can start wanting other things and I'd like to walk in the woods.'

'I don't want to,' said Rita firmly. 'Anyway, I'm watching the TV.'

'Typical,' sneered Japeth. 'Other people's wives go for walks in the woods. Why is it you never want to do anything? I slave all day just to keep you in hair-dos and you won't even come for a walk in the woods. I'm not asking you to come on holiday or anything, just a short stroll. You don't even need a coat.'

'I don't want to go,' shouted Rita. 'Do I have to spell it out? Do I have to sign-write it like the Unpronounceable? Just let me watch this programme will you? It's about computers.'

'So why can't you learn to be user-friendly?' snapped Japeth. 'OK, just come out into the garden and we'll look at that fern you like so much.'

'I hate ferns like you hate woods. Now will you shut up?'

'All right, all right,' yelled Japeth. 'I didn't want to do it this way, I wanted to do it nice and gentle with chloroform, but it's your fault.' And he picked up a vase and smashed it over Rita's head. When she was cold he scooped her up and carried her into the library where Sheila was already lying peacefully in a large tea chest. 'She'll need an injection, quick,' he panted. 'I had to hit her over the head. She didn't want to come for a walk in the woods.' He stared at his family who just smiled and carried on with their hobbies. God, he hated selfish people. It was all he could do to make Noah tear himself away from his model ark and give the injection.

'What are you doing with that model?' he demanded. 'We've got a full-size one out the back and soon we'll be in it.'

'I'm trying to find out how porous gopher wood becomes after a period in the water,' explained Noah.

'But that ship's not made out of gopher wood. It's made out of fibre-glass,' protested Japeth.

Angrily Noah swung round. 'Are you crazy? How can I rewrite the start of the world and then say that we sailed away in a fibre-glass yacht with its own tilt-free pool table? What will it look like? I'm experimenting with something primitive because we're supposed to be a primitive people according to the story. Now why don't you just go and check the bourbon? I'm tired of you and your brothers. You're going to breed a race of morons.'

'And what are you going to breed?' shot back Japeth sarcastically as he swung out of the door. 'A race of bald romantic novelists?'

Noah turned back to his tank and what dignity he felt he had left. If only he could he'd scrap the whole lot of them and run away with Bunny Mix and a crate of gin. Maybe they'd live, maybe not, and he didn't much care. He'd been the best father he could to those boys, and he'd been more than a mother to that chocolate sundae in the sky, and in the end they'd all turned against him. Well he'd show them. First dry land and he'd plant a vineyard and get roaring drunk and stay drunk for the rest of his life.

The rabbit of romance was in a flap. She had just received the message from her old friend Noah concerning the end of the world. He said it was God's Will, though he didn't tell her the whole story about God's will being more or less his own fault. The message advised her to pack up a small suitcase with her favourite belongings and to hurry over to his place as soon as possible. They were already loading the animals and time was short. He warned her to say nothing. If the others found out (and by others she presumed he meant everybody), there'd be street riots and petitions and trouble at the docks. The Lord wouldn't change his mind so they had to do what he ordered and keep quiet.

Bunny Mix sat on her long pink sofa, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. One minute you're publishing a new book of poems and the next you're being offered a place on a cabin cruiser. As the full implications dawned on her she felt cheated. She had worked all her life and could honestly say that she was enjoying the fruits of her labour. Now her labour was going to be turned into a reservoir. Surely the world wasn't so wicked? Naughty yes, and wayward in places; but really, the idea of starting again... She resolved to telephone Noah at once and make him make the Lord see sense.

When she got through, Noah was not helpful. 'I can't talk to you over the phone. Pack up and get here,' and he hung up.

Slowly the rabbit paced her plush carpet. Perhaps, to be on the safe side, she should do as he said and argue later. After all, with her many reading tours behind her she was used to travelling light. And so it was that two hours later Bunny Mix swept out of her health lodge, trailed by three porters bowed down with suitcases and one cabin trunk. She had arranged for her sofa to be delivered, along with a set of her complete works. The specially bound calfskin set she so admired.

The sun was low in the sky when she arrived at Noah's house, and so as not to attract attention she entered by the library patio and had her bags dropped outside on the lawn. Noah was working on something with his back to her, so she rushed over and covered his eyes with her hands.

'Peek-a-boo, guess who?'

'I can't imagine,' growled Noah ungraciously. Since her telephone call he had begun to regret giving her the opportunity of accompanying them while still conscious. Maybe he should arrange another tea chest. He had meant to do that, but his sons were so repulsive to him just now that he had decided a bit of congenial company might help him get through the worst of it. He turned round and pecked her on the cheek.

'Look,' she said gaily, rummaging in her handbag. 'I've brought you a sugar pig,' and she laid it snout-down on the table.

That's very kind,' thanked Noah, mellowing towards her. 'Have you brought your luggage? I hope there's not much?'

'No darling, hardly a stitch, and no shoes to speak of. I left it on the lawn because I didn't know what you'd want to do with it.'

Noah walked over to the windows and looked out. 'I can see three suitcases and a cabin trunk,' he said slowly.

'Yes, it's nothing is it? Don't you think I've done well?'

'Bunny, I told you to pack one small bag with your favourite possessions.'

'Well those are my favourite possessions, but I couldn't quite squeeze them into one bag. Oh, and my sofa's coming too - just one sofa, the pink one, because I'll still have to work you know, and I can't work with no equipment, can I?'

Noah toyed with the options before him. He could hit her over the head right now, himself, in the middle of the library, and throw her baggage into the cesspit, or he could ask her to be reasonable. He started with the latter, so that no one could accuse him of being short-tempered.

'Unless you can get all your favourite possessions into one of those bags, you'll be floating away with the lot of them. We've got a pair of every animal you can think of to go in that ship and hardly room for the sauna, which God knows we're going to need, and you want to fill the place up with party frocks.'