‘I didn’t know what I was doing,’ she said. ‘I just didn’t know. We should be looking.’ Jan looked into Miguel’s eyes again. ‘Damn you, you don’t give a toss for David, do you?’ Then she saw something else in his eyes – a slyness that she had not seen before. And she guessed. ‘You know where he is, don’t you?’
Miguel shook his head.
‘But you do. You do, don’t you? Come on, you little bastard. What have you done with him?’
David undressed, tore down the fossil beach, took a deep breath and plunged into the underground tunnel that led to the open sea. It was a completely instinctive reaction and he did not care about the consequences. All he wanted to do was to get at Miguel, to kill him. Jan was not in his mind. It was Miguel. He struck out furiously in the searing cold of the water, realising dimly that without a wet suit, the open sea, if he ever did reach it, was going to be freezing. But his anger drove him on and David felt no fear whatsoever as he struck out down the narrow rocky passage.
Miguel laughed and stood up.
‘You wanted me,’ he crowed.
A film of sweat temporarily obscured his face from Jan’s vision. She wiped it away and tried to hit him. But Miguel danced away, climbing high up the rock towards the pinnacle of the island, laughing, laughing, as the sea-birds scattered and soared above him. Grimly determined Jan followed him, stumbling, nowhere near as agile as he. He teased her, by pretending to wait and then jumping, leaping on. She continued to follow, saying nothing, panting, temper seething inside her. Then he was at the top and he stood there, arms akimbo, waiting for her to join him.
The pressure in David’s ears increased as he swam on and his lungs felt as if they were going to burst. Yet he was determined not to turn back, nor could he for the rocky passage did not give him any room to turn at all. Miguel still filled his mind’s eye completely. Then the image began to grow smaller, less distinct, and it was overlaid by a redness that was turning black that was turning into Gran.
‘Don’t leave me here – not in this bloody place,’ she wailed. ‘They’re all barmy here. Don’t go and get yourself drowned. I want to get out. You’ve got to help me to get out.’
The passage widened and, with difficulty, David pushed his way around and began to swim back the way he had come. There was a terrible din going on in his head, a pounding that felt as if someone was trying to smash their way out. He felt the current working with him and with a sigh he slipped into semi-consciousness until he bumped his head. Dimly, he saw the mouth of the cavern and with his last remaining strength David dragged himself up the fossil beach. It was like coming home. He looked up at the Rock People. And again he saw his father’s arrogant eyes. But now there was something attractive, something compelling about them.
‘You know you’ve always wanted me.’
‘I’ll kill you.’
She scrambled to the top of the tiny plateau, the garland swinging round her neck. There was only just room for them both.
‘Come on,’ said Miguel. ‘Come and get me.’
The heat was white and so intense that the seascape was bleached out. Everything shimmered; nothing was solid. When Jan looked at Miguel she could see through him. She turned away and when she looked again she could only see him dimly through the rattling shells.
‘Come on,’ whispered Miguel.
Screaming, she hit him, connecting this time, using all her weight. Immediately normality, perspective, vision all returned. Blood came spurting from his nose and Miguel toppled backwards as if he was in a slow-motion film. Behind him was a sheer drop with a ledge near the burnt-out sea. He plunged down and she watched him go, feeling nothing. For a moment she thought he would miss the ledge and hurtle harmlessly into the sea. But he didn’t. Miguel struck the rock and lay flat on his back, staring up at her in tragic surprise. He writhed in a horrible way and suddenly Jan was yelling down to him:
‘Are you all right? Are you all right?’
David lay on the beach, shivering and spitting out water. Not only did he feel utterly exhausted but his lungs hurt badly. Then he was sick and the pain eased slightly. He must have lain there for half an hour before he tried to move, but when he did, David cried out in agony. Every muscle in his body seemed to have a shooting pain in it. He lay still and closed his eyes and suddenly slept. His sleep was heavy and dreamless. Half-comatose, he dismissed the splashing footsteps as a fantasy. Even when David felt the droplets of water on his forehead, he still turned over and buried his face in the fossil beach.
Once more, she could hardly make him out. The whiteness was there again and with it a blurring. For some reason she could not understand, Jan took off the shell necklace and laid it on part of the rocky promontory. Once she had done this, the stillness and the numbness and very white vapid heat seemed to disappear. Instead she was suddenly aware of sea-birds calling, the roar of a motor-boat, the flapping of sails, the rolling of the waves, the shouts of a water-skier, the cut and thrust through the water of the windsurfers. Then her senses moved inwards as she stared down at Miguel with a combination of horror and revulsion. Had she done this? What had made her do it? And above all, what in God’s name was she going to do? Then, he stopped squirming and lay still.
‘Miguel?’
He whispered something incomprehensible at her.
‘Miguel, are you all right?’
‘Help me.’
‘I’m coming down.’ But how could she? The cliff was sheer.
‘Help me.’
Jan began to shout, to scream at the passing motor-boats. It seemed ages before one turned towards her.
‘Help me,’ he whispered again, but this time his voice was much fainter.
David looked up into the leathery face of Henriques. Blinking, he stared without speaking. The old man was wearing diving gear and his eyes were hurt and gentle. It was unbelievable, thought David. He reached out and touched Henriques’s wet-suited leg. Yes. He was real. Absolutely real.
‘I’ve been rescued,’ he rasped, his voice still nothing at all.
Henriques bent down and took his arm.
‘How did you get in here?’
‘From the top.’
‘Ah.’ He leant back. ‘Miguel?’
‘He knocked me down with a stone. And then pulled the rocks over the entrance. I tried to swim out but I had to come back.’
‘So. Miguel.’
‘Yes.’
‘He is – he is mad.’
‘I don’t know. He’s very angry.’ David paused. ‘How did you know I was here?’
‘I met your father. He was coming off the mountain, said you were missing.’
‘And –’
‘I remembered that time when Miguel led you in here some days ago. So I came to take a look.’
‘I didn’t realise you knew exactly where we went. Did you tell Dad?’
‘I didn’t want to give him false hope.’
‘But how can we get out?’ David’s voice was full of rising desperation.
‘We shall share the tube.’
‘How?’
‘I brought a mask just in case you were here!’ He laughed suddenly. ‘And you can link it to my air supply.’
‘Will we fit in the tunnel?’
‘I think – just. Shall we try?’
‘What if we get stuck?’ asked David fearfully.
‘We won’t,’ said Henriques firmly.
By good fortune, the owner of the motor-boat was English.
‘What’s up?’ He was thin, bespectacled, pedantic-looking and did not give the impression of being a fast mover.
‘My friend has fallen on to that ledge. I think he’s hurt.’
The man scrutinised Miguel with frustrating slowness as he bobbed up and down on his boat.
‘What’s he broken?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her voice rose hysterically. How should I know? she wondered.
‘I don’t think we should move him.’
Miguel twisted a little and whisp
ered, ‘Help me.’
The tunnel was so narrow at times that David was sure they were going to be separated, but Henriques, with surprising agility, managed to keep them together in the greenish-grey world of the rocky passage. Several times David almost released his teeth grip on the breathing tube in towering panic, but somehow managed to hang on. Every so often Henriques would reach for his wrist and squeeze it reassuringly. This was what got him through.
Slowly David’s confidence increased until, as the tunnel widened, a sense of joy and relief overcame him that he realised instinctively he could never possibly feel again. Euphoric with elation they swam out into the murky depths of the open sea.
Henriques gave him a zig-zag gesture and David knew he was reminding him to snake his way up to the surface. And so they glided up from the depths, and in a few minutes emerged into a sparkling, dazzling world of such bright light and colour that David’s elation soared again to a new level of delight and wonder. Here was the world in hard primary colours again. And he was alive. Dear God, he was alive.
PART SIX
Going Back
‘Miguel told us where you were but Henriques brought you in before we could get out there.’
Tod was sitting at a café table near the harbour while David consumed a very large Spanish omelette washed down with pints of cold mineral water.
‘Where’s Jan?’ he asked, his mouth full.
‘At the hospital. Some guy in a motor-boat managed to get him back only a few minutes before Henriques brought you in. It was like a miracle.’ Tod was literally feasting his eyes on his newly returned son. The search on the mountainside had been deeply frustrating and Mr Daniels had turned out to be a thoroughly pessimistic companion. Thank God he’s gone up to the hospital, Tod thought.
David’s elation was over. Why had Jan gone up to the hospital with Miguel?
‘How did he get hurt again, Dad?’
‘They were on the island, searching for you. He somehow slipped off the top and fell on to a ledge.’ Tod gave a sudden half-sob and David reached out for him instinctively.
‘Dad –’
‘I’ve devastated his family – wasted them.’
‘No.’
‘I should never have come here. It was just – I needed to change – I had to give the sculpture a real chance. I had to be near the Rock People.’
A wave of overwhelming impatience swept over David. However much he loved his father, he knew now how vain he was and how much he had used everybody to his own ends. His mother, Pilar, Miguel, himself – they had all been victims. ‘I released his hatred. He could have killed you too,’ he swept on. ‘I realise now that he meant to. You were right, David.’
But David couldn’t cope with his self-pity. All he could think of was Jan being with Miguel. ‘How bad is he?’ he forced himself to ask.
‘I don’t know. It didn’t look good. He couldn’t move.’
‘Shall we go up there?’
‘Of course not. You need a check-up and –’
‘I’m fine, Dad. Really fine.’ David was insistent. He had to see Jan as soon as possible.
‘Rubbish.’
‘I want to go.’
‘You have to come home. After you’ve seen a doctor.’
‘I must go. I’m all right, Dad. Look at me! I’m all right.’
‘I’ll take you to the doctor now. The hospital will keep.’
‘No,’ said David. ‘It won’t.’ But he knew that his father was adamant.
But the doctor pronounced David fit and well, despite his gruelling experience. Back out in the evening warmth Tod looked at his watch. It was just after nine.
‘I still think you’d be better off getting a good night’s sleep.’
‘Please, Dad.’
David pleaded and Tod sighed, only giving in reluctantly.
They drove to the hospital and were told which ward to go to. When they arrived they found Henriques sitting outside.
‘How is he?’ asked Tod.
The old man did not reply immediately. He looked shocked and utterly exhausted. Tod repeated the question and he replied:
‘He is hurt bad, señor.’
‘What’s wrong?’ asked David gently.
‘Miguel – he has broken his back.’
There was a long silence. David looked at his father, but he just seemed dazed. Almost childlike. Then David asked: ‘Where’s Jan?’ But he knew the answer.
‘With him.’
Another pang twisted somewhere deep inside him. ‘Can I see him?’
Henriques nodded. ‘Maybe. If the nurses allow.’
‘Where are the old people?’ asked Tod.
‘I have not told them yet. Not till I know everything.’
‘I must see them too,’ said Tod unwillingly. ‘If they’ll let me.’
‘I’ll come with you, Dad.’ For a moment, David thought that his father was going to refuse. Then he gave in.
‘Thanks,’ he said. Tod turned back to Henriques. ‘How bad is the break?’ he asked.
Henriques shook his head. ‘The doctors won’t say,’ he replied.
Jan was sitting by the bed when David came cautiously into the room. Only two were allowed in at a time; his father, half-guessing the situation, had let him go in first.
Miguel was completely rigid, his eyes closed, but there was no sign of injury or suffering in his tanned, composed face.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jan.
‘Sorry?’
‘I knew you were safe. Henriques told me.’ She took his hand. ‘I knew you’d come here.’
The pang tore at David again and he looked down at Miguel. ‘He tried to kill me,’ he said.
‘I know. I’m so – so pleased to see you.’ Her voice rose uneasily.
‘I’m all right now.’
‘He isn’t.’
‘His back?’
‘They won’t tell me any more.’ She looked away and then back again. ‘David –’
‘Yes?’ he replied gently.
‘I pushed him.’
‘What?’
‘I pushed him.’
‘Where?’
‘Over the edge. I was wearing the garland – the shell necklace.’
‘What’s that got to do with it?’ David’s voice was sharp.
‘I don’t know. It made me do things.’
‘Rubbish.’ Too late, he realised he sounded like his father.
‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s true.’ A gulf seemed to open and widen between them. ‘I pushed him.’
‘Why?’
‘It made me. I hated him, though.’
‘So that’s why you pushed him,’ said David quietly.
‘There was more – it was the garland. When I looked at him – he was covered in shells.’
They stared at each other hopelessly.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
‘Better than he is,’ he agreed.
‘Henriques told me how he got you out. It must have been terrifying. And you tried on your own –’ Her voice tailed away. ‘Oh, David
‘What?’ He guessed what she was trying to say and was surprised. She couldn’t know that he had seen them.
‘I went with him but not of my own accord.’
‘What?’ The pang surged, the fiercest yet.
‘He made me.’
‘Forced you?’ he asked although he knew he hadn’t.
‘The garland –’
‘That made you?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’ She broke down but no tears came.
‘How long are you going to stay with him?’
‘Until he wakes up.’
‘That could be – is he unconscious?’
‘They gave him drugs. He was conscious.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Henriques will want to see him,’ said David reluctantly. ‘And Dad.’
‘Go and sleep,’ she said softly.
‘I’ll
never sleep.’
‘I’ll come to the villa tomorrow.’
‘When?’
‘Early. Before ten.’
‘You promise?’
‘Yes. I promise.’
Miguel’s grandparents sat very still in their badly lit living room. The plaster on the walls of the old villa was flaking and the sparse furnishings created an impression of far greater space than there actually was. They sat together on a sofa, bolt upright. The old man had his stick, the old woman her knitting. Time seemed suspended and the crickets outside were muted, dim.
Tod and David sat on chairs, a few metres away. Henriques had placed coffee in front of them and its aroma seemed the only living presence in the room.
‘There has been an accident,’ Tod said in stilted Spanish and then swopped to the slow, careful English that he knew they understood. He would do better with that. ‘Henriques has told you – Miguel has had an accident.’
The old man nodded. When he spoke his voice was slow and cracked. ‘The girl had the garland.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t –’
‘Jan had the shell necklace, Dad,’ whispered David.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t see the connection,’ he said stiffly.
There was a very long silence yet David was hardly aware of the passing of time. The silence was soothing – eternal.
‘The garland is revenge,’ said the old lady, her voice indistinct. ‘Whoever has it – they have the child’s anger.’
‘That’s a legend,’ said Tod. ‘The Shell Man, the Rock People.’ He sounded impatient. David understood his guilt, and knew that his father wanted to get on with explanations and reassurance. But the old people didn’t want any. They accepted death as part of a pattern. Should he tell them what he had seen in the taxi? But he knew there was no need.
‘Look, we still don’t know the extent of Miguel’s injuries –’
‘He had so much hatred in him,’ said the old man. ‘He was cast adrift. You made it worse. You possessed him.’
‘I will ensure Miguel gets the very best medical treatment,’ said Tod very quickly, not allowing the old man to say any more. Where is the money coming from? wondered David. At the same time he knew how right Miguel’s grandfather was.
‘His hatred was strong,’ he continued. ‘But you fed it. There was magic but it needed a strong magician. That was you, sir.’
Shellshock Page 9
