by Ed Clarke
Ffion snorted. ‘What could I possibly want of Mari’s, sir?’ she said.
The rest of the class started to giggle. Mari flushed crimson.
‘All right, button it, everyone,’ said Mr Pugh, beckoning a woman in a white coat into the class, ‘because we’ve got a special treat for you today. This is Mrs Hashmi, the chemistry teacher at Llanwerydd Secondary,’ he announced. ‘She’s come to give you a little taste of what lessons will be like in big school next year.’
‘Oooooh,’ said the whole class sarcastically.
Mari didn’t join in. Her eyes were firmly fixed on Ffion’s backpack, which had begun to twitch in a very familiar way.
‘Thank you, Mr Pugh,’ said Mrs Hashmi, holding up a purple sweet. ‘Now, does anyone know what this is?’
Isabella’s hand shot up. ‘Jelly baby, miss!’
Ffion’s bag twitched again, one strap slipping off the back of her chair.
‘Yes, and this,’ said Mrs Hashmi, picking up a test tube, ‘is potassium chlorate …’
Mari nudged Dylan to get his attention.
‘I’m putting it into this Pyrex tube, fixed to a stand at a forty-five-degree angle …’
Mari and Dylan watched, mesmerized, as a tiny but very sharp claw emerged from the side of Ffion’s bag, moving backwards and forwards like a knife until it had torn a hole in the material.
‘Now, this part is a little dangerous, so I’d like you all to put on the safety goggles you’ll find on your desks …’
‘Do something!’ hissed Dylan.
‘Like what?’ Mari shot back.
They raised the goggles to their faces in unison as, through the hole, the unmistakable snout of a dragon appeared.
‘And now I’m lighting a Bunsen burner beneath the tube …’
Following the snout came the rest of Gweeb, nosing the air, a tiny mealworm falling from his jaws.
‘When the potassium chlorate is molten from the heat …’
Mari realized the danger immediately. If Gweeb had been eating, he would be full of flammable gas. Right in front of a naked flame.
‘Ffion,’ she whispered. ‘He’s getting out of your bag!’
Without turning round Ffion replied calmly, ‘Sorry, Mari, it’s my snake now.’
‘Then we put the jelly baby into the test tube …’
Stretching out his wings, Gweeb climbed slowly to the top of the backpack, only a couple of metres from Mrs Hashmi’s Bunsen burner.
‘And here comes the surprise of your life!’
Gweeb opened his jaws wide, and Mari could see his belly quivering. There was nothing for it. She dived round the desk towards him.
At the very same moment Mrs Hashmi popped the jelly baby into the test tube, where it disintegrated with an extraordinary howl just as Gweeb blew out an enormous putrid breath towards the Bunsen burner. In a flash it was alight, sending a flare shooting across the classroom and setting fire to a flip chart.
Ffion screamed. The jelly baby screamed. Mari made a grab for Gweeb, but he was already up and away.
‘What on earth?’ yelled Mrs Hashmi. ‘There’s a bat in the classroom!’
Everyone in the class started screaming. Gweeb sent another methane-fuelled flame arrowing across the room, setting fire to a wall display and several shelves of textbooks.
‘FIRE!’ yelled Mr Pugh. ‘Everybody out!
The students all bundled for the door – apart from Mari and Dylan, who clambered chaotically around the classroom trying to bring Gweeb back down to earth.
‘That means you too,’ shouted Mr Pugh. ‘OUT!’
‘The window!’ cried Mari, seeing that the one at the front of the classroom was partly open.
But it was too late. Gweeb darted past Mr Pugh and out into the playground beyond.
‘Now really out, the both of you,’ urged Mr Pugh, shoving them through the classroom door as the fire alarm started to reverberate around the halls.
‘OK, everyone move SLOWLY and CALMLY to the exits please,’ said Mr Williams, the PE teacher, holding out his arms to usher the throng of children down the corridor.
Mari and Dylan ducked under his reach.
‘Oi!’ he yelled. ‘Mari Jones! New boy! I said SLOWLY and CALMLY!’
But Mari and Dylan were long gone, shoving through the rabble of students and past a shell-shocked Ffion, her blonde hair singed to a crisp. But there was no time to gloat over her comeuppance. They had a dragon to find.
Out in the playground, gangs of children were goggling open-mouthed at the unfolding events. Despite the fact that it was raining hard now, flames were taking hold, licking up the outside of the school building. Mari and Dylan could hear their classmates muttering as they picked their way towards the sports field.
‘Is school properly going to burn down?’ enquired Angelo Thomas.
‘With our luck, the rain’ll put it out,’ replied Geraint Sharma.
Mari and Dylan were the only ones looking in entirely the opposite direction, scanning the sky for any sign of Gweeb.
‘Can everyone PLEASE line up in your classes!’
Mari and Dylan tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as Mr Williams attempted to take control in the playground.
‘Mari Jones and Dylan Moss!’ shouted Mr Pugh.
They turned round sheepishly.
‘Right, that’s two of you at least,’ he said, turning away to look for the rest of his class.
‘OK, now they know we’re safe, let’s go,’ said Mari, pulling on Dylan’s arm.
As they slipped out of the school gates, they heard the sirens of approaching fire engines, followed by the audible sounds of disappointment from their schoolmates. Mari looked up into the sky again, shielding her eyes from the falling rain.
‘Where would you go if you were a frightened dragon?’ asked Dylan.
‘I’d probably go to the place where I last felt safe,’ said Mari.
‘And that would be the farm, would it?’ said Dylan.
Mari’s silence dared him to say different. But before either of them could say another word a shard of lightning illuminated the dark sky, making Mari jump. Electrical storms still made her very nervous, even six years after her dad’s tragic accident. A low grumble of thunder followed as Mari noticed something over Dylan’s shoulder.
‘Bus!’ she yelled, knowing it would be an hour before the next one.
She turned tail and pelted off towards the bus stop to catch it. Dylan swung his backpack over his shoulder and reluctantly loped after her.
Soon they were racing down the lane to Dimland Cross Farm and skidding to a stop in the farmyard, breathless and drenched.
‘You check the barn,’ Mari instructed Dylan. ‘I’ll see where the cows are. He might have gone looking for milk.’
‘Why on earth aren’t you two at school?’ said Rhian, appearing through the back door of the farmhouse.
Mari and Dylan looked at each other, wondering how much they should say.
‘The school’s on fire, Mum,’ said Mari.
‘On fire?’
‘It’s true, Mrs Jones,’ Dylan piped up. ‘They’ve sent us all home.’
‘Right, inside, the both of you,’ said Rhian. ‘You’re soaked.’
‘We can’t, Mum,’ said Mari, starting to squirm. ‘We have to find the … thing that started the fire.’
‘What thing?’ said Rhian, narrowing her eyes. ‘What have you done?’
‘We haven’t done anything, Mrs Jones,’ said Dylan.
‘Thank you, Dylan, but I was asking Mari,’ replied Rhian.
Mari looked at her feet and felt the hard rain on the back of her neck. A fork of lightning scraped the sky, this time followed closely by a thunderous roar that made her shudder again.
‘Come inside, Mari,’ asked Rhian for the second time. ‘You of all people know how dangerous it is.’
Deep down, Mari wanted nothing more than to come in out of the frightening storm, but that wasn’t an option any more. It would mean giving up o
n Gweeb, on her dad and on her future. But could she really tell her mum all that? She took a deep breath.
‘You’re not going to believe this, Mum, but you have to trust me when I say that it’s true,’ said Mari.
Rhian cocked her head to the side suspiciously. Dylan looked from one to the other, bracing himself for what he now knew was coming.
‘I found a dragon on the beach,’ Mari announced. ‘A tiny one. That’s what set fire to the school. But now he’s frightened, and I don’t know where he’s gone, but I have to find him before he gets hurt, or he hurts something else.’
Rhian stared back at Mari. The silence between them seemed to last an age.
‘I see,’ she said finally. ‘Well, why don’t we talk about this inside, out of the rain?’
‘I know you don’t believe me, Mum, but it is true,’ said Mari. ‘We need to go and find him right now.’
‘What you need to do is come inside, Mari!’ This time it was an order.
Mari stood her ground. ‘I can’t, Mum. I have to find Gweeb.’
Rhian suddenly snapped. ‘OK, Mari. School sent you home? That I can believe. Because it’s on fire? Maybe, just about. Because your miniature dragon tried to burn the place down? No. That’s where I draw the line. That’s where anyone who isn’t mad draws the line. So what’s really going on, Mari? Why are you lying to me?’
The storm was raging now. The rain pounded on Mari’s head and the water streamed down her face. She looked her mum squarely in the eyes, and felt the frustration of six years bubbling up inside her.
‘I’m not lying, Mum. Please listen to me. Dad would have listened to me.’
‘Is that what you think?’
‘I’m not like you, Mum. I’m sorry, but I’m not. I don’t know about animals, or fixing fences, and I really don’t want to be here all my life.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with –’
‘I want to be a scientist, Mum, just like Dad. I’m doing it right now, and I’m sorry you don’t understand, but I have to go. I can’t let anyone stop me being who I want to be. Just like Dad told me.’
Rhian seemed to sway a little, like she’d been winded by a punch. Mari braced herself for her mum to yell at her, but she didn’t. Instead she regained her composure and began to speak very calmly.
‘Come inside, Mari. There’s something you should know. Something I should have told you much sooner.’
‘I can’t, Mum. I need to go.’
Mari turned to leave. Gweeb could be in danger, She just couldn’t have this conversation now. She grabbed Dylan’s arm to pull him away.
‘Your father isn’t dead.’
It seemed so matter of fact, the way Rhian said it. Like she was talking about one of the cows on the farm, or a character on a TV show. Not at all like she was talking about Mari’s dad.
‘He wasn’t struck by lightning, Mari. And neither were you.’
‘But …’ Mari turned round slowly to face her mum.
‘You need to hear this, Mari. I’m sorry. The person who was struck by lightning was Mary Anning, not you. You read about it in a book when you were little, and it got into your head that that was what happened to you. I let you keep thinking it because it was better than the truth. Because he left us, Mari. When you were five. He didn’t want to be a farmer any more, so he just walked out the door one night during a storm, and I never heard from him again.’
‘But … but he was my dad …’
‘I know, love. I don’t know why he did it. I guess he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him being who he wanted to be.’
Mari felt dizzy. It was like the earth was shifting beneath her feet. ‘It’s not true,’ she said. ‘It can’t be true.’
‘I wish it wasn’t, Mari, but it is. Go and get your book on Mary Anning if you don’t believe me. It’s all in there.’
Mari’s head was throbbing, because she knew instinctively that what her mum was saying was right. She knew it in her heart. And the truth hurt. It hurt a lot, and she knew she had to go now. Go and find Gweeb. Go and do something else. Somewhere else. Anything rather than face up to the shattering realization that her life was now completely and horribly different to what it was five minutes ago.
She ran off down the lane and Dylan followed, his school bag bouncing off his back.
‘Mari!’ It was her mum calling after her, but there was no way she could go back.
‘Mari!’ It was Dylan shouting now. ‘Mari, wait!’
Finally she slowed to a walk, breathing too hard, too fast. She felt Dylan’s hand on her shoulder.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked quietly.
She glared at him. Even though it was still tipping down with rain, tears were clearly slipping down her cheeks.
‘Fair enough, stupid question,’ said Dylan.
She was glad he was there all the same, even if she couldn’t bring herself to tell him so.
Just then, a shiny black 4x4 pulled up on the road at the end of the lane, blocking their path. The window on the driver’s side slid down with an electronic buzz.
‘Is this Dimland Cross Farm?’ said a familiar voice. ‘I’m looking for Dr Jones.’
Mari’s eyes bulged. It was Dr Griff. The Dr Griff, in his trademark leather bomber jacket. Here at Dimland Cross Farm.
‘That’s her,’ said Dylan, pointing at Mari. ‘She’s Dr Jones.’
Mari wiped the tears off her face to try and make herself look halfway presentable, though the storm had plastered her hair to her cheeks and her clothes were completely sodden.
‘Well,’ said Dr Griff. ‘You’re a little younger than I imagined from your email.’
He grinned, obviously pleased with his joke. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘You’re the girl from the lecture last week, right?’ He held up a sheaf of printed documents that Mari recognized as her article on Gweeb. ‘Is this what you came to tell me about?’
Mari nodded sheepishly.
‘OK, wow,’ said Griff. ‘Why didn’t you say so?’
Mari cleared her throat. ‘The creature. He wasn’t well that day. I was worried …’
‘Sorry, what am I thinking?’ said Griff. ‘You two look completely soaked.’
In a blink he’d jumped out of his car and thrown up a huge red golf umbrella over Mari and Dylan. It said THE DINOSAUR HUNTER in large white capital letters.
‘Super cheesy, isn’t it?’ he said, smiling. ‘But handy for weather emergencies.’
‘The creature I wrote to you about …’ Mari said. ‘The dragon I found … It escaped. Dylan and I are looking for it now.’
Griff seemed a little sceptical.
‘You do believe me, don’t you?’ asked Mari.
‘The article was astonishing,’ he said, ‘but the photo was quite blurry.’
Dylan winced.
‘I promise you it’s all true,’ said Mari, getting upset again. ‘You have to believe me.’
Griff held her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. ‘I do, Mari, I do. You’re a proper little Mary Anning. That’s why I’m here.’
Mari felt herself relax. Here, finally, was someone who understood.
‘Up there, look!’ Dylan was pointing off into the distance towards the sea.
At first Mari couldn’t see anything, the sky was so dark from the storm, but then, unmistakable against the breaks between the clouds, she spotted a tiny red body flying back and forth.
Dylan turned to Griff. ‘I know it looks a lot like a bat from here, but –’
‘No, Dylan,’ said Griff, interrupting. ‘Actually it doesn’t.’ He grabbed a pair of binoculars out of his glove compartment and held them up to his eyes. ‘Body and wings too thin, prominent tail. Flying unusually high, in an undulating manner and –’ he lowered his binoculars and beamed a knowing smile at Mari – ‘in the daytime. Bit of a giveaway.’
Mari smiled back at him. She was in the company of a proper scientist. At last.
‘I think he must be heading fo
r the beach,’ she told him. ‘That’s where I found him. Can you take us?’
‘No time to waste!’ he cried, flinging open the car doors.
Mari jumped straight into the front seat. Dylan looked a little more reluctant.
‘Shouldn’t we ask your mum?’ asked Dylan.
‘Worried about stranger danger, kiddo?’ Griff asked him. ‘Don’t worry – you know me from the telly.’
‘Get in, Dylan!’ yelled Mari.
‘Just mind those muddy feet,’ Griff told Dylan with a wink. ‘Leather’s a devil to clean.’
Dylan reluctantly swung himself up into the back and buckled his seatbelt.
‘OK, Mari,’ said Griff. ‘You’re in charge. Tell me where we’re heading.’
The rain was lashing against the windscreen so hard that the wipers were struggling to keep up. Griff strained forward to try and make out the road ahead. They were following a winding, rolling track that eventually led them on to the clifftops by the lighthouse.
‘Stop here,’ said Mari.
Griff did as he was told. He pulled up on a grassy verge and they piled out. Griff attempted to put up his umbrella, but the powerful wind off the sea flipped it inside out almost immediately. Awkwardly he wrestled it closed and threw it straight back into the car. Mari was already halfway down a steep grassy bank that sloped to the stony beach. Dylan was doing his best to follow, but the ground was pockmarked with ankle-turning dents and he had to take care not to trip. Mari had no such worries. Her feet knew their way without her even looking. She was entirely focused on the sky.
‘I can see him!’ she yelled over the blowing gale.
She didn’t wait for the others to catch up, but forged ahead, bounding over the slippery round stones on the beach. She could see Gweeb, diving and weaving along the cliffs like a low-flying jet. He seemed agitated, and the closer she got, the further away he seemed to fly. Eventually Griff caught up with her, smoothed back his wind-tousled hair and raised his binoculars again.
‘It’s this searching behaviour I don’t understand,’ said Mari. ‘He seems to be drawn here, but I don’t know why.’
‘It certainly doesn’t look like hunting behaviour,’ said Griff. ‘Or play. But I would need to observe it for longer to be sure.’
