The Weedy Botanist

It's garden twine, says Francine. I never travel without it.

It might not be strong enough, says Belle.

It will do nicely, says Gaius. I'll tie it round my waist. Perhaps this young man would hold the other end for me.

He glances at Albert, who, for a botanist, looks a bit weedy.

Gaius! says Belle. It's too dangerous.

I'll go down, says Francine. We've been up and down lots of steep slopes already.

Collecting samples, says Albert. She goes, usually.

Only because... says Francine.

Albert coughs pathetically. That is the reason.

Francine ties one end of the twine round her waist and hands the twine ball to Belle.

She slithers down the slope to the cardboard box in which Saint Malo is crying Aie! and Saint Roley is answering Aie-ee! (note the extra syllable).

Do you want both of them? she shouts upwards.

Yes, please, says Belle.

What about the shoe? yells Francine.

NO! Not the shoe! shouts Belle.

Good answer, says Francine. It's full of maggots!

Terence and Baldy stand spellbound at the edge of the slope watching Francine gently pick up Saint Roley and place him in the box with Saint Malo.

Now she is closing the lid.

The lid on which the hand of god points to the words Tirer Ici Pour Ouvrir.

Ici is a tab. Francine unties the string round her waist, and loops it under god's finger.

The box is secure.

Pull now! she shouts up to Belle.

Can we help? asks Terence.

No, says Belle. Oh, all right. Hold the ball. Wait! Oh! Crikey!

Terence has dropped the ball of twine.

The ball of twine rolls to edge of the slope, past Baldy, who is too slow to stop it.

Gaius and Albert are no use at all. They are looking at various seeds and samples, which Albert and Francine have collected.

They stand up.

Too late.

The box has slid down the slope to the sea, and plopped into it. The twine floats behind.

Shit! shouts Francine. Sorry!

My fault! shouts Belle.

I'm coming up, says Francine.

She scrambles up the slope, as best she can without any twine to assist her.

Go back! says Terence. Get them!

Get them, shouts Baldy.

No, says Francine. I can't.

You killed them, says Terence. They were going to be models.

They'll come ashore somewhere, says Francine.

Yes, of course they will, says Belle. Probably in Cancale, where we're going. They might even get there before us.

What's all this nonsense? says Gaius.