The noise acted differently here too. It was as if the sea breeze snatched your voice away as it left your mouth. Gracie was listening to the water through the reverberations of the pumpkin. It was like a drum. It hummed. The noises all circling in its rounded belly.

The engine seemed to be straining in the bumpier conditions. It whirred a bit too much for Marty’s liking.

“Is that going to hold up?” asked Marty.

Grandad looked slightly concerned.

“As long as it gets no worse than this…”

Grandad sat down again and looked at his map.

“I reckon we should be seeing land soon…”

There was no need to get the binoculars out, because funnily enough, they could tell they were getting nearer to land as the noise started up again. There were more boats, each one’s captain giving the pumpkin a double take. Each one rubbernecking like mad. Grandad was magnificent as he waved back nonchalantly, like sailing a giant pumpkin was the most natural thing in the world. The water calmed as well as they drew up to a little harbor, and before they knew it, they were in France. Actually in France. Marty jumped ashore, and Grandad threw him a rope to moor the pumpkin overnight. Grandad then went to pay the harbormaster—after all, every boat has to pay to stay in the harbor overnight. It’s a bit like a boat BnB. The harbormaster was talking on the phone when Grandad knocked on his door. When he looked out the window, he dropped the handset completely and his mouth dropped open. Grandad put the money on the desk in front of him and left him to it.

They’d brought their sleeping bags, of course, and they had enough food to last them the night. They tucked themselves in, and Gracie texted her dad just to say they were okay. Within minutes Grandad was snoring, but Gracie and Marty lay awake for a while, listening to the waves gently slopping against the side of the pumpkin.

“I can’t actually believe we made it this far,” said Marty dreamily. “It just all feels a bit weird.”

“I know,” said Gracie. She was tired. Tired from the dancing. Tired from the night in the cheap hotel, and the sound of the water was making her sleepy.

“Good night, Marty.” Her eyes were heavy now.

“Good night…”

TWENTY-NINE

GRANDAD HAD WOKEN before Marty and Gracie. He had been to a bakery to get some hot coffee, and by the look of his saucery eyes, it must have been strong. A few children were gathered on the harborside, pointing and giggling, and when Marty appeared with his hair sticking up all over the place they laughed a little more. Grandad set about checking the oil in the engine, and Gracie unfurled herself from the bottom of the boat and stretched out. She yawned as Marty tucked in to the croissants that Grandad had bought.