Secrets of the Tides

by Hannah Richell

  ‘Oh ages yet. Calm down, will you?’ Cassie scolded.

  Dora remembered the ten pound note in her pocket that Helen had handed her that morning. As if in unison with her brain, her tummy rumbled loudly. Alfie giggled.

  ‘I’m hungry. Are you hungry, Alfie?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah!’ he cried enthusiastically. ‘Ice cream!’

  She sighed. It would take ages to walk back to the car park with Alfie toddling along beside her.

  ‘Cass?’ she called out.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We’re hungry. I’m going to get ice cream. Do you want one?’

  There was a muttering from the far corner as Sam and Cassie discussed the offer.

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘Get us a couple of cans of Coke though, would you?’ Sam asked.

  ‘OK. Won’t be long. You’ve got Alfie, OK?’

  Cassie mumbled something at the far end of the cavern.

  ‘OK?’ Dora repeated.

  ‘OK,’ Cassie shouted huffily.

  Dora turned to Alfie. ‘You stay here with Cassie and Sam. I’ll be quicker on my own. I’ll bring you back a ninety-nine.’

  ‘Ohhh . . .’ began Alfie in a whine.

  ‘I’ll be twenty minutes, tops. I promise.’ She saw Alfie look up at her uncertainly. ‘Anyway,’ she tried, ‘who’s going to build the driftwood tower if we both go? See how big you can get it before I get back, OK?’ She glanced at her sister. It was so unfair of her to just ignore them both. ‘Or maybe you could go and play with Cassie and Sam,’ she added spitefully.

  ‘OK,’ agreed Alfie. ‘Two flakes?’ he asked hopefully.

  ‘Sure,’ agreed Dora. ‘I’ll get you two flakes. See you in a bit.’

  ‘Bye, Cassie,’ Dora yelled out again, making sure her sister knew she was going.

  There was a giggle from the far end of the cavern.

  ‘Bye-bye-ye-ye,’ echoed back at her off the walls.

  Dora shook her head with frustration. She was such a mug. How come she was the one that ended up babysitting Alfie all morning? And the one that now had to trudge back across the beach to get ice cream? It was so unfair. She looked back one final time. Alfie was plodding slowly towards Cassie and Sam, dragging a twisted branch of driftwood behind him. His boots scuffed noisily through the silt and his little shoulders were hunched with resignation. Dora felt guilty, but she was pleased to be leaving the stinking cave. She craved the sunlight and the fresh air.

  Getting out of the Crag proved to be much easier than getting in. The rocky walls were less steep on the inside and someone had chipped helpful footholds into the stone, so that Dora was able to pull herself up without trouble and hop down onto the hot pebbles on the other side. She was out within seconds and her feet landed with a crunch. She dusted off her hands and allowed her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the brightness. The white-hot shimmer of beach was a shock after the cool interior of the Crag.

  As her eyes refocused she realised there were two adults, only thirty or so metres from the entrance to the cave; two women, laying out towels in the thin shadows close to the face of the cliff. They were the only other people for a long way, everyone else choosing to stay up the other end, preferring the proximity of the car park, the ice cream van and each other. Sensible, thought Dora. She glanced again at the women as she walked past. One was now lying face down on her towel, but the other was standing and seemed to be watching her with interest. Dora could see long dark hair and snake-like hips. Too thin for a woman. As she passed she saw the skinny man’s mouth open and a flash of white, a grimace or a smile, she wasn’t sure. As he bared his teeth he raised his hand in a jaunty salute. She dropped her head, guilty at having been caught scrambling about on the eroding cliffs, and started to crunch her way back along the beach, ignoring the trickle of sweat that had already begun to inch its way down her back.

  She chose a path along the shoreline. It was easier to walk on the densely packed shingle than the larger pebbles further up the beach, and the sea offered up a cooling blast of spray every now and then. Besides, it was the clearest path back to the car park; the further she got, the denser the bodies became, strewn across the beach in their positions of sun worship. Bare-bottomed children ran up and down between parents and the shoreline, shrieking and laughing; ladies with huge jiggling bosoms and magenta-coloured skin sat slumped in deckchairs; she passed a pack of teenagers, all long bronzed limbs and brimming confidence in skimpy bikinis, and tried not to imagine the worst as their hoots of laughter rang out as she passed. An old man baiting his fishing rod gave her a friendly nod. She nodded back and then returned her gaze to the horizon and her eventual destination: the ice cream van. It occurred to her for the first time that transporting ninety-nines back to the Crag without them disappearing into puddles of melted mush was going to be a mission in itself. Bloody Cassandra.

  Finally, she turned away from the shoreline and waded up the beach, past the lifeguard slumped in his chair until at last the ice cream van came into view. It was parked in all its pink and turquoise glory in the turning circle at the edge of the sea wall. Nirvana. She could see a queue, orderly and polite, but only six or so people in front of her. Her hand went into her shorts pocket and fingered the grimy note Helen had given her. She had enough for ice creams and Cokes, but it would be a job carrying them all back to the Crag. Cassie and Sam would have to share. It would serve them right.

  ‘What’ll it be, missy?’ the rotund man asked when it came to her turn.

  ‘Two ninety-nines, please. Double flakes. And three cans of Coke.’

  ‘Right you are.’ The man turned and delved his arms into a deep fridge behind him.

  ‘Here you go,’ he said, handing her the cans. ‘Icy cold.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She pulled them towards her and then lifted one to her forehead. The cold metal stung her skin but she held it firm, enjoying the shock as the chill worked its way through her skin to her brain. Then she popped the lid and drank deep. Bubbles rushed out, too fast, and she choked, cold fizz finding an escape route through her nostrils and down the front of her T-shirt.

  ‘Bit thirsty, are we?’ asked an amused voice from behind.

  Dora turned, embarrassed, and saw Steven Page, the coolest boy from her year standing behind her in the queue. She was mortified and flushed deep red. ‘I . . . er . . . yeah.’ She couldn’t think of anything to say. She busied herself by rubbing at the sticky mess on her white T-shirt. It seemed to spread beneath her fingers.

  ‘Good summer?’ he asked.

  ‘Not bad, thanks. You?’ She was glad she sounded calmer than she felt.

  ‘You know, same old,’ Steven replied.

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Dora. She knew.

  ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Now?’ Dora asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ he grinned.

  ‘Just getting ice cream.’ God, talk about stating the obvious.

  Steven didn’t seem to mind. He shuffled closer, digging his hands into his jeans pockets and looking up at her with clear blue eyes from beneath his floppy brown hair. ‘Cool. Me too.’

  ‘Then I’m walking up to the Crag. My sister’s up there.’

  Steven raised an eyebrow. ‘The Crag, eh?’

  Dora blushed. Everyone knew about the Crag. ‘Er . . . yeah. My little brother too . . .’ She didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

  The ice cream man cleared his throat loudly above their heads. ‘. . . And two ninety-nines, doubles. That’ll be seven pounds fifty, love.’

  Dora handed over the ten pound note. As she pocketed the change Steven spoke up.

  ‘What happened to your hand?’ he asked, indicating the angry red graze on her palm.

  ‘Just a silly fall. I tripped. It’s nothing.’ She rubbed at her sore hand self-consciously.

  ‘Well, it looks like you’re going to need some help with those,’ he said, indicating her drinks with a nod of his head. ‘Want me to walk with you?’

  ‘Sure.’ Dora b
lushed deeply again. ‘That’d be great. If you don’t mind?’

  ‘Cool, hang on a sec. I’ll just tell James.’ Dora looked across to where Steven had nodded with his head. James Buchan, another boy from her year sat on the sea wall observing them both with interest.

  Dora felt her heart thumping wildly in her chest and she felt a little sick suddenly. Ice cream dripped onto her hand and she licked at it quickly, eager not to make any more mess. Why had she asked for a ninety-nine? It was so childish. And in this heat she’d have to wolf it down before it collapsed into a sticky mess. She saw Steven and James exchange a few words. The boy on the wall gave Steven a big grin, punched him on the arm and then dropped down off the wall, heading back onto the beach alone. Steven sauntered back to her.

  ‘Ready?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Cool. Here, you’d better let me carry those.’

  She handed him the two unopened cans of Coke and they set off down the beach, Steven ambling casually along, with Dora next to him, frantically licking at the edges of both ice creams in vain.

  ‘So, what’ve you been up to over the summer?’

  Dora’s mind went blank. ‘Oh, you know, this and that.’

  Steven nodded. ‘Me too.’

  Silence. Dora concentrated on the steady crunch of her flip-flops on the shingle, willing the ice cream to defy its chemical properties and stay frozen.

  ‘I went to see that Austin Powers movie in Bridport,’ he offered finally.

  ‘Cool,’ Dora replied, watching a trickle of white goo make its way down the cone to the crease of her hand.

  ‘Yeah, it’s pretty funny.’

  Silence again.

  ‘Have you been swimming?’ Dora tried, nodding her head at the sea.

  ‘No way! Too cold for me,’ Steven replied.

  ‘It’s lovely once you’re in.’

  Steven looked at Dora, impressed. ‘Serious?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s the warmest it’ll get now. You know, after the summer . . .’ She trailed off.

  ‘Nice one. Maybe I’ll give it a go then.’

  ‘You should.’

  ‘OK, I will.’ He grinned at her and Dora felt her stomach flip.

  ‘Watch out!’ he yelled, his eyes flicking towards the ice cream she held in her left hand. She turned just in time to see the whole vanilla head tumble off its cone and fall splat onto the pebbles. An incoming wave caught it and within seconds it had disappeared without trace into the salty foam. Dora looked at the empty cone in her hand and sighed.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Steven cursed. ‘Sorry, I should have said something . . .’

  ‘No, don’t worry,’ said Dora suddenly. ‘I didn’t really want it anyway.’

  ‘Well, you’ve still got that one,’ he said, indicating the ice cream in her right hand.

  ‘It’s for my brother.’

  ‘OK. We can do this,’ said Steven, suddenly getting into the spirit of the challenge. ‘We can get this ice cream to your brother in one piece. It’ll be like Mission Impossible.’

  Dora giggled.

  ‘Don’t laugh,’ he urged. ‘This is a serious undertaking . . .’

  ‘Sorry.’ Dora copied Steven’s serious expression, trying not to let her lips curve back up into a smile.

  ‘Come on then, full steam ahead.’

  They picked up the pace across the shingle, dodging kids and inflatables and the remains of sweaty picnics strewn across blankets. Most people, Dora noticed, lay prone upon towels, or slumped in chairs, dozing and dreaming in the heat of the sun. It seared down on them now, razor sharp, baking the beach in its glare. Dora pushed stray strands of hair, now slick with sweat off her forehead and marched onwards next to Steven. It was a relief when they finally arrived at the far end of the beach.

  ‘I’ve not actually been to the Crag before,’ Steven confessed as they pulled up to the base of the cliffs.

  Dora was surprised. She thought all the cool kids from school hung out there. ‘Well I’ve only been here once, before today,’ Dora confirmed. ‘It’s nothing special.’

  ‘How do you get in?’

  ‘Just up here. You wouldn’t know, unless you knew what to look for. You see that shadow on the rock face, just to the left of that dead tree?’ Dora pointed with her free hand to a gnarled tree stump, bent over like a broken old man.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well, just underneath there, there’s a gap in the rock. It’s hidden from the beach, sort of a trick of the light. You can only see it when you get really close.’

  Dora and Steven moved up towards the rock face. ‘Look, do you see now?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ whistled Steven. ‘Very clever.’

  ‘Just follow me.’

  Dora hopped up onto the stone cliff face. It was harder with one hand holding an ice cream and the graze on her palm an aching reminder of her earlier stumble, but she was desperate not to look like an idiot, not in front of Steven. She misjudged one handhold and nearly lost her balance, but her fingers met with a clump of golden samphire and the roots held firm as she regained her grip. It was a major relief when she dropped down the other side and into the cool interior of the cavern.

  ‘OK?’ she called out.

  A moment later Steven’s head appeared. ‘Blimey, you made that look easy.’

  Dora smiled. ‘You get the hang of it . . . Here, throw the drinks down to me and then work your way down these gaps in the stone.’

  Two cans of Coke landed on the sandy floor next to her, and then Steven dropped down beside her.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ he said, surveying his surroundings. ‘So this is the famous Crag.’

  ‘Yep. See, I told you, nothing special.’

  ‘Where are your brother and sister then?’

  Dora looked around. She could see Cassie and Sam huddled where she had left them, strands of Cassie’s blond hair fanning out on the ground, mingling with Sam’s own raven-black hair.

  ‘Hey,’ she yelled out. ‘We’re back.’ She didn’t know how Cassie would react to her bringing Steven. She hoped she wouldn’t embarrass her. It would be just like Cassie to say something awful.

  ‘You took your time.’ Cassie sat up. She rubbed her eyes, as if she’d been asleep. ‘Did you get us our drinks?’

  ‘Yeah, only one, sorry.’

  Cassie sighed and grabbed the can from Dora’s outstretched hand.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Dora replied, her words dripping with sarcasm. ‘This is Steven,’ she added.

  Cassie looked him up and down. ‘Hey, Steven,’ she said finally. ‘I’m Cassie. This is Sam.’

  Sam gave a little wave and then returned to picking at her split ends.

  Dora breathed a sigh of relief. It looked as though Cassie was going to behave herself. ‘So where’s Alfie?’ she asked, looking around the cavern. The ice cream she held had virtually disappeared, just a tiny white blob remained on top of the cone, with two wilting flakes for company.

  ‘Ha ha,’ laughed Cassie sarcastically.

  Dora looked at her sister, confused. ‘What do you mean “ha ha”?’ Where is he? I’ve got his ice cream here and it’s not going to last much longer.’

  Cassie glanced around the cave before returning her gaze to Dora. She gave her a strange look. ‘He left with you, didn’t he?’

  ‘No. I told him to stay with you guys.’

  ‘But . . . you said you were taking him with you.’

  ‘No I didn’t. I told you to look after him. When I was leaving I said, “You’ve got Alfie.” I told him to go play with you.’

  ‘No, Dora, you said you’d got Alfie. I distinctly heard you. Didn’t you hear her, Sam?’

  Sam just shrugged.

  ‘Well, whatever, Cassie, he didn’t come with me, OK?’ Dora said, looking around the cave with irritation. ‘So he must still be in here.’

  Cassie stood up, brushing sand from her denim skirt, before peering into the gloomy interior of the cavern.

  ‘Alfie?’ she calle
d out. ‘Alfie, Dora’s got your ice cream.’

  Silence.

  ‘If this is a joke, Cassie, it’s not bloody funny. I’ve just walked for twenty minutes in the heat for this ice cream. Just tell him to come out, all right?’

  ‘This isn’t a joke.’ Cassie looked Dora straight in the eye. ‘I don’t know where he is.’

  The two girls looked at one another for a moment, each trying to read the expression in the other’s face. Dora willed her sister to break into a smile, to throw her hands up and to admit to the bad gag, to have Alfie run giggling out of some dark corner, the joke on her. But Cassie just stared back at her blankly, and in the end Dora had to turn away. She couldn’t bear to see the fear welling up in her sister’s face.

  ‘Come on, he’ll be here somewhere. He’s just hiding . . . making a game of it,’ Steven said, trying to break the suddenly serious atmosphere.

  Dora wandered towards the pile of driftwood she and her brother had busied themselves with only half an hour or so earlier. ‘Alfie!’ she yelled, hearing his name echo off the walls. ‘I’m going to eat your ice cream if you don’t come out now. Mmmm . . . yum yum . . . Two more flakes for me!’

  The silence was deep and still.

  ‘Alfie! Alfie. Come out now!’ Her sister’s voice joined in, a little higher in pitch, a little more panicked.

  They walked around the edges of the cavern, looking for a glimpse of their brother’s cheeky face grinning out at them from his hiding place. Any moment now, Dora thought, he’s going to jump out at me. She reached the old oil drum, back near the stone table where her sister and Sam had been lying. She knew it was silly but she turned it over anyway.

  ‘Come on, Alfie. It’s not funny now. Come out, will you? We need to go home soon.’

  Nothing. She turned back to her sister.

  ‘Where is he, Cass?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, almost a whisper.

  ‘Well, when did you last see him?’

  Cassie thought for a moment. ‘Not for ages. Not since you left.’

  Dora ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. ‘But what were you doing all that time I was gone? Didn’t you see him, or even hear him, here in the cave with you?’

  ‘No.’ Her eyes were downcast.