by Poppy Harris
‘Hamilton, the tide’s coming in,’ she said, stroking his back. ‘Take care. Don’t get wet.’
Hamilton put out his paw for the phone and Bethany held it out to him.
I KNOW, he told her. I CHECKED TIDE TIMES IN NEWSPAPER.
‘All right, so you’re a cleverclogs,’ she said. Hamilton tried to look modest and failed. ‘But you need to keep popping up so you can see where you are – and so I can see where you are, too. OK? Now, I’m going to finish my castle.’
Hamilton popped into a tunnel and waved the flag out at her. He loved that flag.
The castle needed more shells, pebbles and seaweed, so Bethany was soon on her knees in the sand, running it through her hands and choosing the prettiest shells. While Bethany decorated her castle, Hamilton did a bit of tunnelling then scrabbled his way to the surface, shook himself and rubbed his face with his paws to clean off the sand. He scratched at each ear in turn and shook his head. There, that’s better. He sniffed at the air and looked out to sea.
What Hamilton saw was very strange, and he needed a better look. For a moment, he thought he was looking at a real live ziffius, but that wasn’t likely, was it? He ran a little nearer to the shore, taking care not to get his paws wet, and looked again.
It wasn’t a ziffius, it was a boat – a long, thin boat – and the man sitting in it was using a paddle to propel it along. He didn’t seem to be finding it easy. It looked as if he was trying to steer the boat towards the shore, but it didn’t want to go. It lurched dangerously one way and then the other as if it wanted to throw the man out. Whenever it tipped to one side, the man leant the other way to balance it. Hamilton was sure this wasn’t meant to happen. He should tell Bethany.
Hamilton ran across the sand and found Bethany carefully placing a ring of cockle shells along a castle wall. He didn’t like to disturb her, but this was important, so he climbed on to her lap and scratched at her hand with his paw. She smoothed his fur and gently stroked his paw, but she was concentrating on her castle and kept her eyes on the shells.
‘Hello, Hamilton,’ she said. ‘Do you want to help? Are you going to choose a shell for me? You can be the king of this castle when it’s finished.’
There was only one thing for Hamilton to do. He nipped her.
‘Ow!’ she said, and finally looked down. ‘What was that for?’
Hamilton pointed out to sea with one paw and pulled at her thumb with the other, like a child pulling on its mother’s hand.
Bethany shielded her eyes against the bright water, but it was still difficult to see clearly.
‘There’s a man in a canoe,’ she said. ‘What’s he doing out there?’ This wasn’t a safe place for canoeing. Bethany remembered all she’d learnt about the strong and dangerous currents in the bay.
As she watched, the boat suddenly rocked.
Bethany scrambled to her feet.
‘Hamilton, he’s capsized!’
Bethany dashed to the rocks, with Hamilton racing across the sand beside her. ‘Sam!’ she yelled as she tapped three 9s into her phone. ‘Sam, look!’
Sam had been bending over a rock pool with his back to the sea. By the time he looked up, Hamilton had hidden behind a stone.
‘Look, Sam!’ Bethany shouted, pointing to the sea. ‘There, in the water! Go and get Nan and Grandie.’
Sam dashed away as somebody from the Emergency Services spoke to her. ‘My name’s Bethany Elliott … I’m at Kettle Bay and there’s a man in the water … His canoe’s turned over … Yes, there’s a lifebelt here … If I can reach it … yes, I’ve got it! I don’t know if I can throw it very far, but I’ll try …’ Bethany knew about lifebelts. She had been to a life-saving course after school and they had practised using lifebelts to pull each other across the hall floor, which was supposed to be the sea, but this was very different. She was sure she couldn’t throw far enough, but she’d try her best.
‘Don’t panic!’ she yelled, but she knew the man couldn’t hear her from so far away. Hamilton popped up from behind the stone and came to stand beside her. ‘I’ll throw you a lifebelt!’
Battling against the waves and spitting out seawater, Tim had seen the girl on the shore with the lifebelt, and when he shook the water out of his eyes, he was pretty sure that she was the hamster girl. He hadn’t come all this way, and come so close to that hamster, to give up the hunt now. He remembered his remote-control tracking device and tried to reach into the pocket of his shorts to get it out, but it had gone. It must be at the bottom of the sea by now.
Bethany flung the lifebelt as hard and as far as she could, but it still fell short of Tim, who didn’t even seem to notice it at first. She shouted so hard that it hurt. ‘Swim! Swim to the lifebelt!’
Splashing his way through the waves, Tim reached the lifebelt and struggled into it. Then, in a determined effort to find the tracker, he tried to duck under the water, but the lifebelt held him up. He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t lose the tracker when he was so close to finding the hamster!
Bethany couldn’t understand why the man still wasn’t trying to swim for shore. He seemed to be looking for something all the way out there in the middle of the sea. ‘Come on!’ yelled Bethany encouragingly. ‘Come on, kick! Kick your legs harder!’
Even Hamilton, who did not like water and had no intention of being in it, knew what the man should be doing. He came out from behind his stone and kicked his legs to show the man.
Tim Taverner squinted towards the shore. Was that …? No, it couldn’t be … But right next to the girl’s foot, there appeared to be the very hamster Tim had been looking for. With a fresh burst of energy, Tim kicked and paddled as hard as he could back towards the beach.
‘That’s it!’ shouted Bethany. ‘Now hold on tight!’
She was shouting so loudly and concentrating so hard that she hadn’t noticed the sound of footsteps on the rocks behind her, but Hamilton had, and he’d hidden again. Then Grandie was behind her saying ‘Well done, sweetheart!’ and his big, strong hands were on the rope, helping her to haul the man to safety. Nan and Sam were running, too, carrying a blanket and towels, and soon there was the sound of an engine and the slamming of doors as two lifeguards arrived in their van and ran to the rocks. By the time they got there, however, Bethany and Grandie had hauled a soaked and bedraggled Tim Taverner to safety and were helping him out of the water.
Hamilton could see that everything would be all right now. A lot of people were arriving. It looked as though everyone was about to get very wet, including himself if he stayed there, and besides, he didn’t want to be seen. While everybody gathered round the wet, shivery man, Hamilton found a sunny patch of sand, left the pebble there to mark it and hid underneath.
Bethany, glancing over her shoulder to see where he was, saw the pebble. Sensible hamster, she thought as she held on to Tim’s arm.
Water poured from Tim’s hair and his soaked clothes. It ran in chilly wet pathways down the back of his neck, into his sandals and into the crook of his cramped leg as the lifeguards helped him to limp from the sea. He shivered uncontrollably, and his teeth chattered as they sat him down on the sand. Three other children were on their way to the beach – the two small boys stopped to see what was going on, but an older girl told them to stop staring and go and build a castle instead.
Tim tried very hard to say ‘hamster’. He had seen it – he knew he had! But between shivering and shock, all he could manage was ‘H … h … h … h …’, and Nan thought he was asking for help. She held his hand.
‘It’s all right now,’ she soothed him. ‘We’re helping you. I’m Linda. Can you tell me your name?’
‘T … Tim … T …’ he began, and wished he hadn’t, because he preferred to keep his name secret when he was spying on the hamster. A hamster that seemed to have somehow disappeared. Again. ‘Tim Thompson,’ he lied.
‘Well, you’re safe now, Tim,’ she said. She hugged the blanket round him and rubbed his arms so vigorously that Bethany th
ought he’d catch fire.
Looking at him, Bethany had a feeling she’d met him before, but it was hard to tell. His hair was half dried and sticking up, his eyes were pink, and the ordeal had left his face puffy and bloated. He could have been anybody. She knelt down and took his free hand, warming it between both of hers.
‘You’re freezing,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry you lost your canoe, but at least you’re all right. You’ve been very lucky.’
Tim supposed he should say thank you, but he couldn’t quite manage the words. He didn’t feel very lucky.
As Tim gathered the blanket round himself and shuddered, Nan, Grandie and the lifeguards discussed what to do with him. The lifeguards were very keen to take him to hospital in case he needed medical attention, but Nan said the only attention he needed was a hot bath and an even hotter drink. The other children had stopped staring and were running down the sand to paddle in the sea. One of the lifeguards followed them, and Bethany knew he’d be warning them about the currents and pointing out what had happened to Tim.
‘You really should go to hospital, sir,’ said one of the lifeguards. ‘They need to check you over.’
Tim was horribly cold and wet, and his eyes were still stinging from the salt water, but in spite of that, he tried to think clearly. The girl on her knees rubbing warmth into his hand was the girl from Tumblers Crescent! She was the one who had brought her hamster on holiday, and that hamster was probably the one with the microchip! He hadn’t made all this effort – and nearly drowned – to be taken off to hospital when the hamster was nearby.
‘I … I … I’m f … f-f-fine,’ he said, although he was still shivering too much to speak clearly. ‘If … if … L … L-Linda and …’
‘Martin,’ said Grandie. ‘I’m Martin, and this is our Bethany, who threw you the lifebelt, and Sam, who came to get help.’
‘Th … th-thank you very much,’ said Tim. ‘You’re b-both …’ He was thinking, You’re both coming between me and the hamster with MY microspeck! But what he said was, ‘You’re b-both very brave. I really d … d-d-don’t need to go to hospital, but I’d like to t-t-t-take you up on your offer, L-Linda, if it’s no t-trouble.’
‘We’ll have a hot bath ready for you in five minutes,’ said Nan.
The lifeguards helped Tim across the dunes and into their van to drive him to Nan and Grandie’s house. They offered Sam a lift, too, and let him try on their life-jackets while he asked Tim what it was like to fall out of a canoe. Bethany hung back.
‘Aren’t you coming, Bethany?’ asked Nan.
‘I’ll be up in a minute,’ she said, adding truthfully, ‘I’ve left some shells on the beach.’ The real reason, of course, was that she had to go back for Hamilton, who had been alone for quite long enough. She didn’t know how long they’d been sitting there with the dripping-wet canoeist, but the other three children had now finished building their castle and were trailing back up through the sand dunes, saying something about ice creams.
Bethany ran down to the place where Hamilton had last left the pebble, rubbing her arms and realizing too late that she had forgotten her cardigan. The incoming tide was bringing a breeze with it, and the afternoon was turning cooler.
She was pretty certain of the right spot, but when she reached it, there was no sign at all of the pebble. Hamilton must have moved it. She walked carefully, her eyes on the sand, watching for any sign of the pebble – or of Hamilton.
The gleam of a pebble caught her eye – no, that wasn’t the one. There was something moving on the sand … but it was just a crab running sideways across the beach. Bethany began to be afraid. Among all the pebbles on the beach, there was not a trace of Hamilton’s marker stone. Perhaps the sand had covered it – Bethany curled her toes, but there was still no pebble. She was looking down so intently that she hardly noticed the sandcastle until she’d nearly stepped on it.
It wasn’t one of her castles – the other children must have made it. Stones, shells and seaweed formed a pattern over it, and there, in the middle of a swirl of shells and pebbles, was Hamilton’s stone. Bethany snatched it up in relief and plunged her hand into the sandcastle. Hamilton loved sandcastles, so he must have moved into this one!
‘Hello, Hamilton!’ she said. ‘Are you in there?’
There was no welcoming wriggle of warm fur against her hand, and no moving of the sand under her fingers. Perhaps he was fast asleep, but she bit her lip with anxiety.
‘Hamilton?’ she said, pushing her hands further into the sand. ‘Are you in there?’
The waves rippled further up the beach. Bethany felt hot, then cold, and panic made her hands shake. Where was he? And why had she found the pebble, and not Hamilton?
Then she understood. The children building the sandcastle must have found it and put it there, and she was cross with herself for not realizing that straight away. With each new wave, the sea crept further up the beach, and the need to find Hamilton grew more urgent. She stood up and turned slowly, scanning the beach. It was a small, enclosed bay, but it was still a vast wilderness for a small hamster, who could be anywhere.
Watching the sand for movement, she ran, but then it occurred to her that she might step on Hamilton or fall over him. After that, Bethany walked quickly instead and as lightly as she could. Nobody was about, so she called his name: ‘Hamilton? Can you hear me? I’m here, I’m trying to find you. If you can hear me, come to me! Stay away from the water!’
Step by step, Bethany worked her way up the beach, curling her fingers tightly as she called his name. She straightened up, rubbing her arms. It was cold now. Sooner or later somebody would come looking for her and call her in for tea, and she didn’t know what she’d say. She couldn’t leave without Hamilton. Bethany tiptoed further, sometimes sinking to her knees and crawling, feeling the sand with her fingers as she called Hamilton’s name and tried to guess where he might have gone. He was intelligent, and he knew that the tide was coming in. He’d probably get as high up the beach as he could, somewhere the tide would never reach … He’d have gone to the sand dunes!
Bethany broke into a run, forgetting to take care where she put her feet, until she nearly stepped on a blade of sharp, spiky grass and wobbled, with one foot still in mid-air. As she found her balance again, a tiny flash of colour caught her attention.
She knelt carefully to examine the sand, and this time she saw it clearly.
It was a tiny flag, made from a lolly stick. On the top, very tattered and crumpled by now, was a sweet wrapper with a picture of a golden hamster on its hind legs.
‘Hamilton!’ she cried. ‘You’re here!’
She plunged her hands into the sand. This time, the sand was warm, and with a happy flood of relief she felt the soft wriggling of Hamilton’s thick fur under her fingers. Two ears appeared out of the sand, then Hamilton’s bright face and happy eyes as he jumped on to her lap, and she laughed with joy and relief.
‘Are you cold?’ she asked, cuddling him gently. ‘Poor Hamilton! Were you frightened?’
Hamilton shook his head energetically and rubbed his face against her hand, but really he had been a bit scared, and was as glad to see Bethany as she was to find him. When the children had taken his pebble, he had tunnelled under the sand, wanting to put himself as near to the pebble as possible so that Bethany could easily find him. As he got closer to it, though, he had decided that it was a bad idea. He would be in great danger of being found by the other children, who would call him Fluffpot and Sweetie and might even take him home, and Bethany would never know what had happened to him. That thought was utterly terrifying. Faced with the double danger of the new children and the waves creeping up the beach, Hamilton had tunnelled furiously towards the dunes to get as far away from the sea as he could. Then he had stopped tunnelling when he remembered that Bethany would have no way of finding him. He had turned himself about, run to Bethany’s castle, collected his flag and carried it in his teeth to the safety of the dunes. Once there, he had planted it as
a marker, then curled up and hid, finally snoozing lightly underneath it. He was blissfully thankful to settle into the warmth of Bethany’s hands at last.
‘Time to go home and get warm,’ she said. ‘You need your warm cosy nest. Now, Hamilton, you need to know that we’ve got a visitor at home – that man from the canoe. His name’s Tim, and Nan and Grandie have brought him home to look after him. They don’t know that I brought you here with me, so I have to slip you back carefully.’
Hamilton nodded and put a claw to his lips. He’d be very good. He’d go straight into his cage, curl up and be no trouble at all. Excitement was tiring, and he’d had enough for one day.
Tim Taverner was perhaps the most brilliant scientist ever to work at the town’s university, but wrapped in Grandie’s dressing gown, he didn’t look or feel clever at all.
Nan and Grandie were taking such care of him that he’d hardly been let out of their sight. Nan had run him a hot bath, but she said that he was still in a state of shock and might faint while he was in there, so he mustn’t lock the bathroom door in case he collapsed and needed first aid. Grandie sat outside on the stairs, ready to run to Tim’s rescue if he heard anything alarming that might mean Tim had fallen over. Fortunately, nothing of the kind happened. Tim didn’t need rescuing, and he felt a lot better for that hot bath. Nan had washed his clothes and put them in the tumble dryer, and left him Grandie’s dressing gown and slippers.
Emerging from the bathroom, red in the face from the heat, Tim caught sight of a half-open door across the landing. Through it, he glimpsed books, a sketch book, pencils, a floppy cuddly dog and a mauve dressing gown over the back of the door. That had to be Bethany’s room, and the hamster must be in there! His heart beat faster with excitement. Was anybody watching? He glanced over his shoulder.
‘You look better for that!’ said Grandie, smiling broadly and striding towards him. ‘Kettle’s on. Come downstairs. The sitting room’s this way.’
