Chapter 4 - Plans, treachery and plots

 The letter was full of all the fascinating details that Wendy had told Betty about Peter and the Neverland, details that matched absolutely everything Otto had said.

Lord Bryan’s interest was aroused almost to fever pitch by the time he had finished reading. Summoning the professor, he got him to go over, again and again, all the things he remembered about that marvellous place.

As Otto told him more and more about the island and its strange inhabitants, ideas began to erupt inside his Lordship’s head.

“Octopus! Mortimer! I have a great idea! Let’s suppose this place really exists. It doesn’t belong to anybody. There are only children living there,  as well as some Red Indians and a couple of down-at-heel pirates. Then there’s nature, nature and even more nature! There are tigers, lions, bears, mermaids and infinite unpolluted beaches. It’s a tax heaven and a tourist paradise - and it’s also big business for the first person that can lay his hands on it. And that person is going to be ME!

“I’ll move my residence there, and my companies as well, of course. I could open a bank and a casino.”

By this time, you and I have become accustomed to observing how Lord Bryan dreams up new ventures, driven on by his extraordinary business sense. We can only continue to marvel at his enthusiasm and ability to create new projects, as well as listen to him while he illustrates all these fantastic plans with such mental agility and ease.

“We could build a hotel. Let’s say, about 5,000 rooms. It will be the world’s first theme park. Everything we need is there already. We’ll set up a little train to take the tourists to the Indian village and the lost boys’ place. We can offer canoe trips on the river, all-inclusive tours to the pirate galleon and mermaid-watching expeditions…we’ll even sell the children packets of food so they can feed the mermaids.

“By the way, professor, what do mermaids eat? They’re really fish, after all. Fish usually like tasty titbits, so we could give them Recycled Jones. We could have a picture of Peter Pan, with a tin of Recycled Jones in his hands feeding the mermaids, on our brochure! Take note of that, Mortimer. I think that would be a perfectly terrific idea!

“And then,” Lord Bryan’s mind raced on, “What about hunting? All those wild animals! A perfect paradise for sportsmen! I wonder if you can fish for mermaids? A nice stuffed mermaid would look good above the fireplace in a seaside villa in Maryland or the Costa Azzurra. I wonder how much an American tourist would be prepared to pay to have a stuffed mermaid above his mantelpiece?”

“And how do you plan to get these tourists to the island?” Mortimer sneered sceptically.

“Oh, son, I told you: THINK BIG! They’ll fly there, naturally. If we manage to reproduce fairy dust in the Synthesizer, transportation will be no problem.” Lord Bryan’s lively brain had conjured up an exciting new business venture and he wasn’t going to let it go. “It will cost us next to nothing to make the fairy dust. We can do without these expensive German Zeppelins! We won’t be giving any more of our precious currency to Germany. We’ll set up the world’s first low cost air transportation company for tourists – and it will be British! Yes, indeed, British!

“I’ve already thought of a name,” he rushed on. “We’ll call it ‘Bryan Air’. It’ll be a huge success. That’s absolutely certain!

 “We’ll have the monopoly on fairy dust made in our Synthesizer. Britain will no longer be subjected to the blackmailing tactics of these strange petroleum barons in caftans! They’ve got their smelly petrol? We have an endless reserve of even smellier garbage! Do you know, Mortimer, that the industrialised countries are the greatest producers of rubbish? And the Ffink Pfenninger Jones family will have the monopoly – not only here, but world-wide…”

He paused to reflect.

“If you think about it, this is really something to be proud of!” he concluded.

“That’s very well,” sniffed Mortimer from the darkest corner of the room. “But how do we get hold of a fairy?”

“Octopus, what do you need in order to duplicate fairy dust?” asked the Earl, somewhat impatiently.

“Ich told you yestersday, milort. Get fairy and put it in Synthesizer, ja!” was the professor’s laconic reply. He was well aware that the first rule of a good consultant is not to offer too detailed advice on things you know nothing about.

The two men seemed to have come to a kind of impasse. Then Mortimer came up with his own idea: “Maybe I’ve got the answer. Let’s invite William and Betty to dinner on the 27th December. We'll tell them to bring their friend Wendy. You promised William you’d look after Betty, and so you can say you want to meet young Wendy Darling. He’ll swallow that and he’ll even be grateful for the trouble you’re taking!”

He dropped his voice. “After dinner, we’ll send them home in our carriage. They’ll only have the coachman with them. Before they reach the Darling’s house, a gang of our “Humanitarian Guardians” will attack the carriage with their clubs.

“I’ll speak to Johnny the Stinker. He’s a bright boy. They won’t hurt the kids, but they’ll take them off to the dump and we’ll hide them inside the Synthesizer. If Wendy’s telling the truth, this Peter Pan will come the next day with his fairy to take them to the island. He’ll have to go into the Synthesizer to get them and he’ll have to sprinkle them with fairy dust so that they can fly away.

“So, if the professor gets the machine ready and sets the timer, we’ll be able to get the sample of fairy dust we need.”

“Brilliant, atsolutely brilliant!” said Otto admiringly.

Chapter 5 - The Trap

  I’ll leave you to imagine all the excitement on Christmas Eve in the Darling’s household, when one of the Earl’s valets delivered the invitation for Wendy and Betty.

Mrs. Darling had been forced to endure, in a dignified silence, the scornful looks of the other mothers when she named the academic establishment that Wendy attended. Now she was filled with delight at the thought that she would shortly be able to tell these ladies about a Christmas party held at the residence of His Excellence, Lord Ffink Pfenninger Jones – “the uncle of Wendy’s dearest friend.”

Mr. Darling, on the other hand, started to fret that Wendy would need a new dress. However, he was soon reassured by the fact that not even Betty possessed a special dress she could wear to go to her uncle’s house.

Now, I know you are anxious to learn whether the Earl and his son’s evil plan was successful or not, but, first of all I must tell you that Christmas Day was quite magical for Betty. Everyone overwhelmed her with kindness and gave her lots of presents. John even wrote a poem for her and presented it, blushing red as a beetroot. Naturally, this thrilled little Betty.

Finally, the day of the 27th arrived and William came in his uncle’s carriage to pick up the two girls. As we know, William had his misgivings concerning Wendy, but he had decided to hide them and behave politely to everyone.

The girls were ready well in advance. They waited for William in the sitting room, peeping from behind the curtains to watch the carriage draw up at the door.

Truth to tell, the girls’ behaviour would have made Miss Worksham exceedingly annoyed, because they both completely forgot the importance of her instructions regarding “Decorum, Decorum, Decorum”. Betty tore open the front door and ran into the street to hug her brother, shouting with joy, while Wendy…

Well, it’s difficult to say what Wendy did. She had the feeling she had been covered in fairy dust and she was flying all over the place. It seemed to her that everybody in the room had stopped talking - or else she had become deaf, because she couldn’t hear a thing. She came back down to earth only when Betty pulled her sleeve for the third time and cried in her ear (she hadn’t heard the first two times) “Can I introduce my brother?”

William and his constant private sunbeam came towards her. Wendy, who would have preferred to run away, struggled to control herself, dropped a curtsey and murmured: “Welcome, milord!” And this made Betty, John and Michael, who had run to meet the guest, fall around with laughter.

I must say that, in all the confusion, some fairy dust had probably dropped on Mrs. Darling by mistake. For a moment, if he had been quick enough, William might have managed to catch the sweet little kiss that was always in the right-hand corner of her mouth.

The Earl treated the girls and his nephew with extreme kindness during dinner. He was particularly attentive to Wendy. He asked her how she was getting on at school and also a great many questions concerning that Peter Pan fellow who was going to pick her and Betty up and the Neverland where he lived.

Playing the perfect host, he inquired all about their trip - how long it would last, the direction they would take and the layout of the Island, as well as the number of pirates and Indians and the kind of weapons they had. In short, his Lordship, who was an expert at worrying out secrets, did everything he could to win over his young guest. He would have completely succeeded if Wendy had not been distracted all evening by an annoying little sunbeam that seemed to hover mysteriously over William’s head, dazzling her eyes.

Lord Bryan’s manner was so relaxed and friendly that he put his young guests entirely at their ease. When he proposed a toast before they went back home, Betty, who was overcome with happiness and excitement, raised her glass containing a thimbleful of champagne and cried: "I wish Wendy and William would get married soon!”

Naturally, poor Wendy was so embarrassed that she would have liked to have disappeared under the table. She was so ashamed that she thought she would die if her eyes met William’s. And as for William – his first thought was that gabbling sisters ought to be put down by law - in a painless way, of course, but definitely exterminated!

In that moment of intense drama for his guests, the Earl rose splendidly to the occasion. He laughed gently at Betty’s outburst and treated Wendy with great delicacy. He said that if what Betty desired should, in fact, actually take place, the young couple would have his blessing. Then he distracted their attention by changing the subject. When the moment of confusion was past, he accompanied them to the door, where he said an affectionate goodbye and gallantly kissed Wendy’s hand. “Now, have a good trip, young lady,” he said. “And give my regards to your Peter!”

The three friends’ return trip home would have been perfect, as Wendy confessed to William some years later, but for the fact that the horse’s hooves made such an annoying noise all the way back. At that moment, she had been sure they were racing over clouds and not cobblestones, and there shouldn’t have been such a clatter.

However, all this was spoiled when they had reached the top of the avenue where the Darlings lived. That was when Johnny the Stinker and his ruffians arrived on the scene.

Some time later in the Darlings’ sitting room (where Mr. Darling was tenderly trying to console his weeping wife), the bruised coachman made a statement to the police, declaring that a wicked band of scoundrels had dragged away poor Master William and the two terrified, screaming girls. In reply to the sergeant’s questions he added: “Oh, yes, naturally, Master William fought like a lion. He even managed to pull off the ragged scarf that the one who looked like the leader had over his face.”

Unfortunately, however, the coachman had been unable to identify the rascal.

Chapter 6 - Peter Pan arrives on the Scene

Peter was rarely punctual. In fact, it was more common for him to forget all about appointments, just as he forgot names and faces. That Christmas, however, for some strange reason, he arrived as expected on the afternoon of the 28th December. Perhaps he had missed Wendy, or John, or Michael, or maybe Mrs. Darling’s stories, or her cakes, or maybe he was simply tired of playing with the fairies in Kensington gardens. The fact is that at 5 o’clock, when darkness had already fallen, he knocked on the window of the Darling sitting room.

He arrived there singing, as he always did when he was happy. He knocked on the glass to get them to open up and then executed a neat pirouette in the air before he landed on the sofa.

“Hi, there!” he greeted everyone.

“Boo hoo!” sobbed John and Michael.

“WOOOOOOOO!” howled Nana from her basket.

“BOOOOOO HOOOOO”, Mr. Darling wept loudly, so that nobody could say the dog loved his daughter more than he did.

“Sob, sob”, Mrs. Darling cried quietly into her handkerchief.

Peter didn’t like tears, or people who were sad. Therefore he cocked his head to one side, with the air of someone who is thinking “It would have been better if I’d stayed in Kensington with the fairies!” Then he asked politely: “Has somebody died?”

“BOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOO!” the room cried in chorus – all except Mrs. Darling, who limited herself to discreet little “boo hoos!” into her handkerchief.

Dear! Dear! This was Christmas when everybody ought to be happy! For a moment, Peter thought of flying away from this dreary place, but then he turned to John and asked him what had happened.

What do you think Peter’s reaction was to the news of the kidnapping, when the anguished Darling family told him about it? You’d expect him to be upset, to have railed and shouted, wouldn’t you? Instead…

“Hurrah!” he cheered. “Let’s go and rescue them.” Peter loved adventures. The challenge of embarking on some fresh enterprise and measuring himself against a new enemy was to him the very salt of life.

“Come on, John. Come on, Michael. Let’s go and hunt out these delinquents!”

Mr. Darling shook his head in despair. The police had not found a single trace of the gang, apart from the filthy scarf, and nobody had the faintest idea where the children might have been taken. Mr. Darling sat on the bed in such a state of utter hopelessness that Nana felt it was her duty to go and put a paw on his knee to comfort him.

Peter’s eye fell on the dog and he suddenly shouted “Nana!”, making everyone jump. “That’s it, Nana!” he repeated. “Give Nana that rag to sniff and she’ll be able to track down Wendy and her friends! We’ll take her to the spot where they were kidnapped and she’ll follow the scent from there.

“Tinker Bell!” he said. “Help me to look for that scarf. We have to find the girls!”

First of all, however, Tinker Bell had to be found. She was hiding and she did not wish to be discovered. Her long absence from London hadn’t improved her character one bit. She clearly didn’t fancy sharing Peter, not only with Wendy, of whom she had always been jealous, but with a new girl as well! However, Peter finally threatened to cut her daily ration of honeydew. As you probably know, fairies have an acorn-cupful every night before they go to bed and Tinker Bell was particularly partial to the drink. Sulkily, she came out of her hiding place under the potted aspidistra and joined in the search. Finally, they found the rag and took it to Nana.

Why do you think Johnny the Stinker got that name?  Well, it’s just as you think! It was because he exuded such an offensive odour that even the fiercest rats in the dump ran away from him and he never needed to use his stick to drive them away.

The fetor emanating from Johnny’s scarf was so overpowering that, had it not been for the fact that Nana loved Wendy to such a degree, the poor dog would never even have looked at the rag.

Peter, Tinker Bell, John and Michael went out immediately into the street and took Nana to the spot where the kidnapping had taken place. Nana sniffed the rag,  then she barked excitedly because the traces left by Johnny the Stinker were so strong and unequivocal that they seemed to point a clear path in the right direction.

But the road was long. The boys got tired and eventually Peter commanded Tinker Bell to sprinkle them with fairy dust so that they could fly alongside him.

John and Michael couldn’t help thinking how very different this flight was from that first time they had flown with Peter and Wendy to the Neverland! Now their hearts were so sad and heavy that Tink was obliged to give them a double portion of fairy dust just to keep them up in the air!

Nana ran on ahead through the night and Peter and the boys followed her. A couple of miles from the city dump, the stench that arose from the refuse heaps became so strong that it cancelled out the traces of Johnny the Stinker. The wild creatures that lived amongst the garbage began peeping out at them with hungry eyes and Peter decided it would be safer to sprinkle Nana with fairy dust as well. Then he flew higher up, in order to get a view of the entire area.

Obviously, poor Nana had never flown before and she began to drift aimlessly around the sky in whatever direction the wind decided to carry her, just like one of these balloons at the funfair that slip through children’s fingers. Unfortunately, nobody had thought of bringing a lead with them (if they had, Nana would certainly have been offended), so John was obliged to link the handle of his umbrella through her collar to guide her through the air.

Michael found this so amusing that he decided to hang on to Nana’s tail with one hand (as he usually did when they were walking in the streets, so that he wouldn’t get lost), while he held tightly onto his teddy bear with his other hand.

“Let’s make a train!” Michael laughed happily, completely forgetting Wendy’s plight. “Train, Nana. Chuff! Chuff!” He was just about to imitate the sound of the train whistle when Peter cried: “They must be there!” He pointed to the laboratory, which was the only building in that deserted wasteland that was lit up. You couldn’t help noticing it, in fact, because all the lights were blazing as if there was going to be a party. “It’s better if we go there on foot ,” said Peter.

They flew over the boundary fence and landed in the shadows in front of the laboratory entrance. Creeping quietly forward, Peter gripped his dagger in his hand while John waved his umbrella in a threatening manner and Michael clasped his teddy bear to keep his courage up. Nana was in the forefront, leading the search party.

“Psst, psst!  Heh, you…” a voice from the shadows whispered.

“Who’s there?” Peter asked quietly.

“Ssssh! Come over here where it’s darker! Don’t let them see you!” the voice continued. “You’re Peter Pan, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m Peter. And who are you?”

“Be quiet! Keep your voice down. My name’s Ragvendra, but everybody calls me Rags. I’m working here for Lord Rubbish with another a hundred and forty-nine children. I thought you were never going to come!”

Peter always fancied that everybody knew him, so he wasn’t a bit surprised that this unknown person had recognised him. “But who are you?” he asked. “Let me see you! How did you know I would come here? I didn’t even know myself!”

Out of the deepest shadows emerged the thin little face of a jolly looking boy. He was all muffled up in rags and there was an enormous turban on his head. Instead of giving a straightforward answer, the little boy began to tell them a long story: “It’s because they hardly give us anything to eat here,” he said. “And yesterday our guards suddenly took off. They shut us up in a shed and went away, but I managed to sneak out to look for food. The other kids were too scared. They all stayed inside.

“I just got into the store room, when the guards came back with three new prisoners and they shut them in the room next to where I was hiding. ‘It’s only till tomorrow!’ Johnny the Stinker told them. ‘Tomorrow we’ll put you into the Synthesizer!’ Then they started eating and drinking right outside the door and I couldn’t get back to the hut. One of the girls was crying her eyes out. The other one – her name was Wendy, I think – tried to make her feel better. “Don’t cry,” she said. “I’ll tell you again your favourite story, the one about Peter and the Neverland. And don’t worry. You’ll see, Peter will come and rescue us. He’s saved me before - that time I was Captain Hook’s prisoner…”

“She said that, did she?” Peter broke in, very proud of himself. “That’s right! It was a fine fight. I had the greatest fun.”

“Yes, but do go on, tell us about Wendy!” John urged the boy.

“Oh yes, tell us about Wendy.” Peter agreed, but he was a bit annoyed.

“I can’t tell you very much more. I listened to all Wendy’s stories – I didn’t even feel hungry any more – and then it was quiet for a bit.” Rags interrupted his story for a second. “Did you really do all the things she said? Betty fell asleep in the end, and then Wendy started to cry, and then the boy, who hadn’t said a word until then, tried to comfort her.

Rags abruptly changed the subject: “I say, Peter, is it true that there are lost boys on the Island?”

“Yes, of course there are.” said Peter. “Do you want to come with us to fight the pirates?”

“Wow!” cried Rags. “When are we going?”

“Whenever you want,” said Peter carelessly. “We can go immediately. I’m the leader and I decide!” he added, just to make things absolutely clear.

“But first we have to free Wendy!” John cried. John knew Peter well and he was worried that Peter might forget about the rescue operation and move on to another adventure.

“Okay,” Rags nodded. “But afterwards, my mates and I will come to the Island, right? Then he took up his story again: “This morning, the guards came back to take them to the Synthesizer. It’s a big huge machine inside there. When they weren’t looking, I tried to get back to my hut but there were too many guards about. But I did find some decent grub so I kept on hiding here. I’m in for a right bashing when Johnny gets hold of me. I haven’t done my shift… Peter, you promise you’ll take me with you?”

“All right, all right. Now let’s go inside. Do you know the place?”

“No, I’ve never been before…”

“Then let’s get on with it. But keep quiet…We have to be very careful”.