Night on Terror Island by Philip Caveney Page B

worry about that now. The first thing he saw was the black sheet lying beside the Lazarus Enigma and the bright pool of light illuminating the wooden platform. He threw his hands to his face and went down on his knees.
    ‘Oh no,’ he gasped. ‘Oh no, not Rose!’
    Beth stood there staring at him.
    ‘What’s going on?’ she asked anxiously. ‘That kid in the film … she looks exactly like Rose.’
    ‘It
is
Rose,’ groaned Kip. ‘Oh God … what am I going to say to Mum and Dad when they get back?’
    Beth’s face was a picture of astonishment.
    ‘What do you mean?’ she muttered. ‘How
can
it be Rose? She’s in here.’ She looked around the darkened room. ‘Isn’t she?’
    The door behind them swung open and Mr Lazarus stepped into the room. He stood there a moment, staring at Kip and Beth in surprise.
    ‘What are you two doing up here?’ he cried. ‘You’re missing the film.’
    He noted the angry glare in Kip’s eyes and then his own gaze moved sideways to look at the wooden platform, bathed in the light of the projector. The smile on his face faded in an instant.
    ‘What’s going on?’ he asked blearily. ‘Where’s Rose?’
    At that moment, Kip could have cheerfully strangled the old man.
    ‘What have you done?’ he whispered. ‘For God’s sake, she’s only six years old.’
    Mr Lazarus arranged his face into a look of total innocence.
    ‘I haven’t done anything,’ he said. ‘I was down in the ticket booth, taking care of a few stragglers.’ He took a couple of steps closer to the projector and stared down at the wooden platform. ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘How very unfortunate.’

CHAPTER TWELVE
     

    ROSE WAS FEELING bewildered and rather scared. She gazed down over the rail of the sinking ship as the other members of the crew lowered a lifeboat into the churning waters. In the fading light, the sea appeared to be almost black. Captain Holder stared down at her for a moment and then strode away, shouting orders to the others.
    Now the blonde-haired woman, who Rose recognised from the bit of film she’d watched earlier, came over to stand beside her. She was looking at Rose as though she didn’t quite understand what she was doing here, but Rose felt exactly the same way about it. She understood she had somehow gone into the film but she didn’t have the first idea how she was going to get out again.
    ‘Where’ve you been hiding all this time?’ asked the woman. She had an American accent. ‘Are you a stowaway?’
    Rose looked up at her.
    ‘What’s a stow …?’
    ‘A stowaway,’ said the woman, ‘is somebody who hides aboard a ship.’
    Rose shook her head. ‘Haven’t been hiding,’ she protested. ‘One moment I was at the Paramount, the next there was this light in my eyes and I was here.’
    ‘You … were at the … Paramount?’ The woman looked baffled. ‘What does that mean exactly?’
    ‘My dad has a cinema.’
    ‘That must be very nice for you,’ murmured the woman. ‘But what does it have to do with anything?’
    ‘I don’t know. I was up in the room where they show the films and there was this black cloth and I took it off and …’ Rose shook her head. ‘I want to go home,’ she said.
    ‘We all want to go home, honey,’ said the woman and slipped an arm round Rose’s shoulders. ‘But we can’t right now.’ She pointed to the horizon. ‘First of all, we need to get to that island.’
    Rose looked where the woman was pointing and sure enough, there on the blood-red horizon was a smudge of land, and what looked like a stretch of palm trees.
    ‘Is this like a dream?’ she asked.
    ‘More of a nightmare,’ said the woman grimly. As she said this, the deck of the ship seemed to lurch to one side and they had to grab hold of the rail to stop themselves from falling.
    ‘I don’t like this,’ said Rose.
    ‘You and me both, honey. What’s your name?’
    ‘Rose.’
    ‘OK, Rose. I’m Doctor Tamara Flyte. Don’t worry, I’m going to take