‘But Dad…..’ Lucy started plaintively, but she could tell that he was having none of it.
‘No! We’re spending this holiday together and that’s final’ he replied with a firm edge to his voice. ‘I’m sure you can just call and cancel. If he’s just some scrawny ten-year-old like you said, he’s hardly going to be good company for you anyway, is he?’
They walked on in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Lucy couldn’t help but think of her dream of the murky silhouette of the dolphin. Why was it so important for her to find out about that dolphin? She couldn’t say why, but her gut feeling was that even though she could not believe everything that he told her, Paul could help her find out something important about the dolphin in her dream. By now she’d learned that she should not ignore her dreams. What would Paul think tomorrow if she didn’t turn up? Would he ever talk to her again?
They came to the gate at the top edge of Long Field and Dad bet Lucy he could hurdle it. It was a tall farm gate made of galvanized steel. He said he’d been quite the hurdler when he did athletics as a young man. Lucy looked at Dad and then at the gate. She really wasn’t sure. Dad took a run at the gate and seemed ready to leap, but just at the last moment he broke off. He looked at her sheepishly.
‘Maybe it has been a few years since I last practiced’ he admitted as he opted to climb the gate instead.
The shadows were starting to lengthen across the fields as they approached the cottage again. But even despite the lateness of the afternoon, the air was still full of birdsong.
They walked up the short path to the cottage door, glad to be able to get their shoes off and have a rest. A small yellow note had been stuck to the door just by the lock. In neat handwriting it said ‘Would you like to join us for supper at seven o’clock tonight? Mary and Darren. PS. Bethany will join us too.’ Dad seemed pleased to be invited. He didn’t have any food in the cottage and didn’t relish the prospect of driving to the nearest shop to pick up provisions. It was nice of Mary and Darren to ask, thought Lucy.
They both went to get ready for dinner. Upstairs in her bedroom at the cottage a sudden insistent feeling came over Lucy that she had to reach out and contact Spirit, in the same way that she had when the little girl was trapped on the rocks. Lucy let her mind slip into the trance that she needed to find the secret door in her mind that led to the world of dolphins and of water. She slipped through and found the water thick with shadows in that last half hour before the long summer evening turned into night.
When Spirit asked her whether humans stole dolphins from the sea, Lucy felt a wave of guilt sweep over her as though it was she that was responsible for all the bad things that people did in the world. She thought of the Sea World adventure park they had visited when Lucy was much younger and the dolphins jumping through hoops in return for fish. It had upset her then, but the though upset her more now. She hardly knew what to say to Spirit at all.
‘But why would humans capture dolphins?’ asked Spirit. ‘I don’t understand’. Lucy thought of all the children and parents laughing and admiring the dolphins performing tricks at Sea World.
‘People think dolphins are beautiful’ she replied, trying to explain. ‘They want to see them closer.’
‘Dolphins are made for the sea though’ continued Spirit. ‘We can’t live in an over-sized swimming pool. We need to feel the currents, to hear the waves crashing above us, to hunt for fish and squid. We need to be free!’ Lucy nodded, her eyes downcast.
‘I know’ she replied quietly. Lucy thought about the dolphin in the briny lagoon that Paul had described to her and which had become such a recurring image in her nightly dreams. She longed to tell Spirit, but daren’t do so, not yet. When she knew more then maybe she would, but not now. She turned back to Spirit.
‘It is wrong for humans to keep dolphins in captivity’ she said firmly. ‘I will do whatever I can to set free any dolphin I find that we have taken from the wild. You have my word.’ Spirit gave a nod of his head.
‘Thank you Lucy. It’s just that I started to think that I knew humans, that I could trust them. I know I can trust you, but then I realised that other humans are strange and dangerous and I don’t know what to think anymore.’
Showered and rested, Lucy and Dad strolled down the lane the short distance to the farmhouse. Darren and Mary soon made them feel welcome. Bethany was already there and before long all five of them were chatting and laughing, relaxed and happy. Darren had cooked a dish that he’d found in an Italian-style cookbook and even though it had burned rather badly on the top, nothing could dampen the jollity of the evening. The grown-up’s sipped at Darren’s home-made Crab Apple wine, which Dad said had a kick like a mule. Lucy could see that Dad was starting to unwind, the cares of work and city life falling from his shoulders like a cloak. It made him look younger, she thought.
They ended the evening by playing charades and by the time Dad and Lucy left to go back to the cottage, it was almost half past eleven.
Back in her room in the cottage, Lucy opened her bedroom window, propped her chin on her hands and stared out at the night sky. There was not a cloud in sight and because there was no moon, the stars seemed particularly bright. Out in the country away from the towns, there was much less light pollution to spoil the view of the stars. They seemed to be scattered across the heavens as though the contents of a bottle of glitter had been spilled on water. Lucy thought that she could make out the Milky Way, but wasn’t quite sure. A pipistrelle bat flitted across the garden, hunting for moths. Lucy looked down the valley. It was a shame they didn’t have a view of the sea. She imagined Spirit’s pod, resting quietly on the surface of the water, their dorsal fins casting dark shadows. What must Spirit think of humans now?
If only she could cycle out with Paul tomorrow and find the dolphin trapped in the murky lagoon. Then she really would have something to tell Spirit. But it was impossible. Unless a miracle happened between now and tomorrow morning, Dad simply wasn’t going to let her go off with Paul for the day. She’d have to get a message to him one way or another. But how?
She sighed, as she pulled her curtains closed and climbed into bed. It was nice to be in a proper bed again, after the nights she’d recently spent on Bethany’s camp bed. Yet it did not feel the same. It felt so natural to live with Bethany at her studio. Sometimes she liked to imagine that all Bethany’s paintings would come alive as she lay there snuggled down under Bethany’s spare duvet. She would imagine that the animals and people would emerge from their squares of canvas and talk together quietly as Bethany and Lucy slept. Lucy closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep to dream of dolphins free to roam the wide oceans.
The next morning there was still no food in the cottage, so Lucy persuaded Dad to go over to the studio for breakfast. He said he didn’t like to impose, but Lucy could tell that after the previous night he was feeling a bit more positive about Bethany and that he was happy enough to go. Lucy still half hoped that he would relent and let her go for her cycle ride with Paul, but Dad announced resolutely over breakfast at the kitchen table in the studio that they would go into Merwater that morning to buy some groceries and then walk along the cliff tops in the afternoon.
‘You can show me the pirate coves and hidden treasure Luce’ he joked.
Lucy said that she would tidy away the breakfast things while Dad went back to the cottage to get ready. Once Dad had left, Lucy turned anxiously to Bethany.
‘I don’t know what to do’ she half whispered. I promised that boy Paul that I’d go for a cycle ride with him today. It’s just that he… Well, he says that he knows a lake or a lagoon or something where a dolphin is kept prisoner. He was going to show me today. There’s no way Dad will let me go, so I’ve got to get a message to Paul to say I can’t come.
‘Well you can’t blame your Dad for wanting to spend some time with you when he’s just arrived Kiddo’ replied Bethany sympathetically. I can sort of guess at how important it must be for you to go and f
ind this dolphin’ she continued, ‘if there really is one. Are you sure he’s telling the truth?’
‘If it wasn’t for these dreams that I’ve been having, I’m not sure if I’d trust him either’ said Lucy. ‘But ever since he told me, I’ve been having the same dream about a dolphin all alone in a murky lagoon. I can barely make out its shape and the dolphin always seems just out of reach. I…’ Lucy trailed off.
‘It could be just a dream’ speculated Bethany.
‘But my dreams about Spirit turned out to be real’ replied Lucy. I have this feeling that….’, but she didn’t finish her sentence because she didn’t want to put into words what was in the back of her mind. Bethany put the tea towel down on the table to come and give Lucy a hug for a few moments.
‘You could ask Thelma to get a message to this boy Paul’ she said. ‘Thelma knows his Mum so she probably knows where he lives too. Your Dad likes Thelma too. They had long involved conversations about something or other the last time your Dad was down here when you saved Spirit. I reckon that’s your best bet.’
‘That’s a good idea’ replied Lucy, but even as she said so, she wondered whether she really wanted Mrs Treddinick to know. ‘But I don’t know if I’ll see Thelma in time. Could you call her for me?’
‘Oh I expect so’ said Bethany, ‘but I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get a message to your friend Paul’. Bethany glanced at her wrist watch. ‘Off you go now’ said Bethany. ‘Your father will be waiting for you’. Lucy ran up the lane to where Dad was waiting for her in the car, the engine idling.
‘You ready?’ he asked brightly. ‘Then hop in.’
In Merwater Dad was in no hurry to get to the minimarket and suggested wandering down the main road first and around the small harbour to soak in the sights and smells. Lucy didn’t mind. She thought perhaps they’d bump into Thelma or Nate if they did.
It was still early in the day and so the town was still relatively quiet. The tourists would arrive later in the morning. Down at the harbour’s edge she looked for Nate’s boat the Lady Thelma, but it was not there. Nate and his first mate Bob must have been out tending to their lobster pots. Dad was obviously enjoying wandering around the small, picturesque town and they chatted inconsequentially about this and that as they walked. It was nice to be with Dad she realised. It felt a bit like old times.
They nosed around one or two of the shops full of nick-nacks and curios on sale to the tourists, before coming to the gallery where some of Bethany’s work was displayed. There in the window was a large oil-painting by Bethany of a stormy, buffeted sea and in it, a tiny figure of a girl swimming, swimming through the huge waves. Dad studied it silently for a long time. Lucy wondered if it affected him as it had affected her the first time she had seen it. Eventually Dad reached out and gave Lucy’s hand a short tight squeeze.
‘Come on’ he said eventually, ‘let’s go and get those groceries.’ They started walking back up the road and Dad wiped something from his eye. Was it a tear Lucy wondered? She couldn’t be quite sure.
In the mini market they both grabbed a hand-basket and wandered round the aisles. Dad said he didn’t want to buy more than the bare minimum, but before they knew it, both baskets were nearly full. They rounded the corner, looking for bread-rolls.
‘Why Lucy!’ exclaimed a voice. Lucy looked up from the shelf she was looking at.
‘Mrs Penhaligon! What are you doing here?’ It was Lucy’s English teacher from school. She’d barely thought about school since they broke up for the holidays and to her surprise here was one of her teachers in front of her in the mini market.
‘Well I’m from these parts originally and I’ve just come down to see my family and enjoy a bit of the sea air.’ She smiled at Dad.
‘Mr Parr, you have a very pleasant and hardworking daughter. If she keeps it up I’ve no doubt she’ll do very well.’ Lucy blushed for a moment, but then a more powerful and compelling thought overcame her.
‘Mrs Penhaligon, are you related to Susan Penhaligon?’ she asked with a serious tone to her voice. Dad glanced in his daughter’s direction, clearly wondering who Susan Penhaligon was. Mrs Penhaligon laughed lightly.
‘No Lucy. Penhaligon is a good Cornish name. Lots of people are called Penhaligon round here’.
‘But in class you told us the story of the girl on the island and the fisherman and how it is said that they both became dolphins. And it was Susan Penhaligon here in Merwater who persuaded the children to swim out to sea to become dolphins all those years ago.’ Her teacher smiled, but her answer was thoughtful and serious.
‘Yes you are right, but the name is nothing more than a coincidence. I am a Penhaligon by marriage only. There are stories of people and dolphins which stretch back hundreds of years. I know that you love dolphins, but I only gave that story in class as a piece of interesting folklore. I never imagined I’d be chatting to you in a minimarket in Merwater about local history!’
Dad shifted uneasily. He was obviously surprised by the turn the conversation had suddenly taken.
‘But…’ stuttered Lucy.
‘Luce do stop quizzing poor Mrs Penhaligon. She’s on holiday too after all’ he said with an apologetic glance towards her teacher. Mrs Penhaligon smiled again.
‘It’s been nice to see you Lucy. I do hope that you and your father have a lovely holiday here.’ She hesitated a moment and then said goodbye and walked off down the aisle.
After they went through the check-out, Dad asked Lucy to wait with two bags of shopping whilst he took the other two to the car. Lucy had felt strangely put out by having seen Mrs Penhaligon. In class she’d felt that her teacher knew more than she cared to say and that they’d had a sort of special connection. She felt that Mrs Penhaligon knew about dolphins. Here in Merwater her teacher’s comments had been bland and empty. Lucy adjusted the bags at her feet. It didn’t make sense.
‘Lucy while your Dad’s away for a moment I just wanted to say something.’ Mrs Penhaligon suddenly appeared at her side again and spoke in a low urgent tone. ‘I think that you have a special gift’ she said, looking at Lucy. ‘Yes, I can see it there in your eyes. I know more about Susan Penhaligon and local dolphin folklore than I cared to let on back there. I have an idea your father is not as receptive to such talk as you are. But you are not like Susan Penhaligon all those years ago. You can make your own destiny. You just need to believe in yourself’. She touched Lucy lightly on the arm.
‘I’m helping out most days at my sister’s gift shop just down the road’ she said pressing a business card into Lucy’s palm. Do drop in and see me if you can’ she said. With that she slipped away. Just then Dad came back for the last two shopping bags.
‘You ready Luce?’ he asked.
Chapter Twelve:
Paul lent his bike against the stone wall surrounding the grave yard of the church at the end of Bussey Lane. He was wearing his favourite tee-shirt shirt and a pair of baggy khaki shorts. The church was small and stumpy with a pitched slate roof and low tower. It squatted at the convergence of two roads, just on the edge of Merwater where the countryside started.
Lichen-covered grave stones stood drunkenly at regular intervals in the graveyard, their lettering so old that it had all but worn away. Flowers and nettles sprouted up in the corners where nature was always poised to take over if it was left unattended for more than a few weeks. This was a good place to search for insects and twice Paul had found a slow-worm, a short legless lizard that looked like a snake, sunning itself on a gravestone.
Paul glanced at his watch. It was a quarter past twelve. He thought Lucy would be here by now. A car droned by, as sleepily as a bumble bee. Paul rubbed his knee. It was cut and grazed. Mum had sent him to the corner shop for a pint of milk that morning. She’d wanted him to buy a pack of cigarettes for her as well, but the man in the shop said it wasn’t allowed. He’d cut across the recreation ground on the way back. Baz and Mike had come up behind him and stuck out a leg to trip him up. He’d fallen s
prawling on the tarmac path while the milk carton had hit the ground and started leaking milk onto the earth. Paul’s knee stung and started to bleed.
‘Ooh Paulie, you’re so careless’ jeered Mike.
‘Get off of me’ Paul yelled back, ‘or I’ll…’
‘Or you’ll what?’ sneered Baz as he kicked the milk carton into a shrub. Paul didn’t know how to finish his sentence, so he didn’t say anything. He wanted to say ‘You don’t know anything about me, I swum with a dolphin yesterday’ but something stopped him just in time. He got up and retrieved the milk carton, which by now was half empty and limped off home. Mum was annoyed both for the split carton and the fact that he’d come back without her cigarettes. At least his bike was working again and he’d be able to escape for the entire afternoon.
Paul looked at his watch again. It was almost half past twelve and there was still no sign of Lucy. She’d been so insistent that he take her to the dolphin lagoon and now she wasn’t here. He wondered what had happened to her. Maybe she hadn’t been able to find the church, or perhaps she’d just been winding him up. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone had played a trick on him like that.
He sighed. There was something in the graveyard he wanted to show her. It was the grave of Susan Penhaligon, tucked away in the undergrowth near the crumbling wall, marked by a lopsided headstone.. That’s why he’d suggested meeting here. ‘Well, it’s her loss’ he thought. He’d strapped his school lunch box onto the back of his bike. Now he took it off and got out his sandwiches wrapped in cling film. He munched at a cheese sandwich disconsolately.
He still couldn’t get over having swum in the sea with Spirit the day before. It had been more amazing than he had ever imagined. The dolphin had looked at him with such calm, understanding eyes that he felt like Spirit had been reading his soul. It made him feel as though he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He’d never felt such a connection with another living creature before, not even the dog they’d had before Dad had left home.
Dolphin Child Page 14
