‘Is there anything about dolphins in it?’ asked Megan hesitantly. She was acutely aware that Rachel was years older than her and talk of life at University sounded incredibly glamorous and grown up in comparison to her life at secondary school.
‘That’s the thing, yes there is’ replied Rachel thoughtfully. ‘Let’s see if we can find it.’ Rachel started turning the pages carefully, looking for the right passage.
‘Yes, here it is, look.’ Rachel showed her the page towards the end of the journal but Megan had trouble reading the copperplate handwriting so Rachel read it out loud for her.
‘Word has come to me of a young woman of the parish who is still a Dolphin-Child despite having attained the age of fifteen years. It is common in the district for a girl or boy to have what the locals call “the gift”, but I have never heard tell before of a Dolphin-Child that retained the peculiar ability to communicate with dolphins beyond the age of twelve or thirteen. I interviewed this young woman but was quite unable to extract from her how it was that she had managed to retain the gift. She was quite evasive in her answers and evidently did not wish to divulge these matters to me. I sought to coax the answers from her with kind words and then bold entreaties, but to no avail. She asked to be excused and near fled down the street away from me. I was mightily intrigued by this encounter and was determined to learn more from one source or another if I could.’
‘Does he say any more then?’ asked Megan expectantly when Rachel paused and looked up.
‘No, no he doesn’t’ Megan replied. ‘I’ve read the remainder of the journal but it ends a month or two later without any further reference to Dolphin-Children. But it’s clear he kept a journal over several years and he must have continued his records of local life in another volume. I’ve told Mum to keep her eyes peeled for any more of the journals of Jeremiah Smith but they haven’t turned up yet.’ Rachel could see that Megan looked crestfallen.
‘You’re twelve, going on thirteen aren’t you Megan’ Rachel asked, regarding her with a look of realisation in her eyes. ‘I’ve an idea that this is not just of academic interest to you.’
Megan quietly shook her head. She felt so disappointed. She thought that the answer would be written there in the journal in black and white, but it only tantalised her and didn’t answer anything. She looked up and glanced at the clock on the wall.
‘I’d better get going’ she said. ‘My Mum and Dad will be picking me up in the car from the harbour in about twenty minutes.’ Rachel looked concerned. Megan seemed so young and forlorn and she desperately wanted to learn more about Megan’s gift and to do something to help.
‘Look, let me go and do a bit of research. I’ll speak to my mother. She knows all the people who collect antiquarian books in the neighbourhood and she might know someone who can help. Who knows what we can turn up with a bit of sleuthing?’ Megan gave a small, sad smile.
‘I’d like that. I’ll see if I can get my parents to let me come back tomorrow or the day after.’ Megan said her goodbyes to the older girl, and then hurried back through the town to the harbour.
Chapter Five:
The following evening Lucy sat cross-legged on her bed. She was trying to focus and relax. She’d borrowed a book from the school library about meditation and thought that it might help her reach out to Spirit again.
‘What’s that you’re reading?’ Dad asked at dinner time. ‘You’re not going to turn into a Buddhist are you, and go round in an orange sheet with a shaved head?’ Lucy gave a guarded smile.
‘Oh no, I just thought it would be, you know, interesting’ she answered noncommittally, turning over the page as she spooned a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth.
‘You be careful’ warned Dad, ‘you’re going to get tomato sauce all over that book if you don’t watch out.’ Lucy put her fork down; she didn’t feel hungry anyway.
Up in her bedroom Lucy was desperate for the meditation methods in the book to work but the more she tried, the more difficult it seemed to get. Every time she tried to clear her head and relax, a whole slew of thoughts seemed to flood into her mind and distract her.
The book she had borrowed described a simple counting method for relaxing by counting down from nine to zero, then from eight to zero, and so on. The idea was that if you focused on the counting, you didn’t let any other thoughts into your head. It simply didn’t work for Lucy though. She just felt tense and nervous in the pit of her stomach.
Their form teacher Mr Baines had once asked the class what the first thing they thought of was if he said ‘Don’t think of an elephant.’ Of course everyone had immediately thought of an elephant, even though he’d just told them not to. The more Lucy thought about not getting tense or worried, the more her thoughts crowded into her mind and the harder it got to stretch out to Spirit at all.
The worst thing though, was thinking that it wasn’t just nerves preventing her from stretching out to Spirit, but something far worse than that. What if she really was just growing out of her gift as everyone seemed to think she was? She was determined to prove them wrong, but she simply didn’t know how to start. If it really was happening, it would be as if half of her had died, she thought sadly.
‘You look as if you’ve got the world on your shoulders’ Mr Baines told her as they left his religious education class earlier that day. ‘Whatever is the matter?’ Lucy looked up.
‘Oh nothing’ was all she was able to say in a dull lifeless voice.
‘Chin up!’ he replied. ‘No need to be so glum. No one’s died have they?’ Lucy shook her head slowly as she left the room, but it felt as if someone had.
At lunch time Lucy simply hadn’t felt able to spend time with Amy, even though they were normally inseparable. It felt like nothing could shift her dark mood. Lucy realised that the change in her made Amy feel uncomfortable and that her friend didn’t really understand what was going on in her head. It just seemed as though she simply couldn’t bring herself to make the effort to be more positive.
Sitting there cross-legged on the bed trying to meditate, a mood of quiet desperation settled over her. Try as she might, she still could not find the portal between her conscious mind and the world of water. It used to feel so natural, so easy. Now it seemed impossible. What was the point of anything if she couldn’t reach out to Spirit? Was this really what Dad wanted for her; a grey, empty, pointless life?
It had been difficult enough for her when Mum had died, but at least everyone knew what had happened and tried to be sympathetic. This time Lucy felt entirely alone and the sense of loss felt just as real.
Eventually Lucy gave up trying to focus her mind, and flung the meditation book onto the floor. She picked up her book ‘The Flora and Fauna of the Cornish Coast’ that had mysteriously come through the post the other day. She flicked through it idly. Someone had sent it to her as a clue, but Lucy had no idea how to decipher it. Lucy looked at some of the notes that Mum had made when she was still a young girl, about the same age as Lucy was now.
‘Jeremiah Smith’ Mum had written in the margins at one point in the book, ‘journal volume’ it went on. Whatever did it mean? Lucy was too tired to think about it now.
She leant over to switch of her bedside lamp and turned on her side to sleep. Maybe she’d dream of Spirit once she dozed off. Her brain was wide awake though and she found herself staring up at the dark ceiling of her bedroom. She tried to imagine Spirit floating there in front of her. Then she attempted to bring Mum’s face to mind. It worried Lucy that it was becoming harder and harder to remember Mum’s face and voice. If it hadn’t been for the video film and holiday photos that Dad had taken before Mum had died, perhaps she’d have forgotten entirely by now.
‘Maybe everything fades into nothing in the end’ Lucy thought despondently. Finally, Lucy’s eyes fluttered closed, and she fell asleep.
Lucy’s troubled mind seemed to wander from dream to restless dream. She dreamt of dolphins, but it wasn’t the happy dream that she normally had o
f swimming with the pod, so vivid, it was as though she were really there. This was a grey dream of fleeting silhouettes that disappeared into nothingness. She dreamt of a girl with her face obscured by a bonnet looking at her. She felt as though the girl was concerned about her, though she couldn’t say exactly why..
Her restless mind started dreaming about school, then the echoing swimming pool where she normally did her swimming practice. She dreamt that Ms Baldwin their sports teacher was shouting at her and that she was sinking through the pool as though it had no bottom and it just went down forever. It was like a big weight had been tied to her feet and was pulling her down into an endless chasm. In her dream she looked up through the water and saw faces peering down at her until she got so deep that they disappeared.
It was about three o’clock in the morning that she suddenly sat bolt-upright in bed, her heart racing. Her bed clothes were caught up in a tangle around her, damp with perspiration. Lucy looked around her in the dark, confused and disorientated, barely knowing where she was.
‘Whatever is the matter?’ cried Dad, bursting into her room in his pyjamas. ‘You cried out so loudly I thought you were being kidnapped!’ He switched on the light and came to the edge of her bed, anxiously looking into her face. Lucy crumpled into Dad’s arms and started weeping in deep heavy sobs.
‘Oh Dad, it was so horrible. I was dreaming about Mum. I…’
‘There there’ said Dad hugging her. ‘It’s all okay. You’re awake now. Everything’s alright.’ Lucy clung to him for comfort as he perched on the edge of her bed, still crying into his arms.
‘Come on’ Dad said eventually. ‘Let’s go downstairs and get a mug of cocoa. Then you can tell me all about it.’ He took Lucy’s hand as she climbed out of bed.
‘Here’s your dressing gown. We don’t want you to get cold now do we?’ Downstairs Lucy sat on the sofa in the darkened living room, wiping away her tears with a piece of kitchen roll while Dad made cocoa in the kitchen. A couple of minutes later he brought through two steaming mugs and handed one to Lucy. She cupped it in her hands and then took a sip of the hot milky drink.
‘What was this dream of yours all about then huh?’ Dad asked.
‘It was about Mum’ Lucy replied, sniffing. ‘First of all I was swimming with her in the sea on holiday, laughing and playing. Then she was all alone in a car. It was dark and cold and it was raining.’ Dad gave Lucy’s shoulders a squeeze with his arm.
‘I think I know where this is going’ he said quietly.
‘It rained so hard I couldn’t see her anymore. I was scared and I tried to grab her, even though I wasn’t there in my dream but looking in from the outside.’ Lucy blew her nose again.
‘Then the dream got darker and suddenly there was a huge bang’ she continued.
‘That must have been when you shouted out in your sleep’ commented Dad.
‘What did I say Dad?’ asked Lucy.
‘Oh you just shouted ‘No!’ really loudly. Then you shouted ‘Come back!’ Lucy nodded, though she couldn’t remember what she’d said.
‘After that everything went pitch black, and I felt like I was buried alive in a coffin. Then you came into the room and I realised I was awake.’
‘Oh Lucy’ Dad exclaimed sadly, giving her shoulders another squeeze. ‘That sounds like a terrible dream. I’m so sorry.’
‘Tell me again how Mum died’ asked Lucy. Dad glanced looked down at his mug for a long moment, before looking back at her again.’
‘You know the story Luce’ he said quietly. ‘You don’t need me to tell it to you again do you?’
‘Yes’ she said simply. Dad looked up at the ceiling, as if he were afraid to catch her eye.
‘Like I told you’ Dad replied. ‘Mum was away on business, miles from here, driving home in a hire car. Visibility was bad and the car on the other side swayed across and clipped Mum’s car. She crashed into a wall and was killed instantly.’ Dad’s arm around her shoulders went limp. Lucy had heard the story before and knew exactly what Dad was going to say, but somehow she wanted to hear him say it again.
‘What was she away for?’ Lucy asked. Dad continued to stare up at the ceiling. Lucy looked up at his face, but he would not return her gaze.
‘Oh you know, work stuff’ he replied awkwardly as if he wanted to change the subject. ‘I don’t know.’ He looked down rapidly at his mug again and then took another swig of cocoa. He put the mug down on the floor next to Lucy’s feet and gave her shoulders another squeeze, still avoiding eye contact with her.
‘I know it’s terrible’ he said. ‘There’s not a day that passes when I don’t think about Mum. I miss her so terribly, just like you do. I wish that she hadn’t been stolen away from us like she was. She was only thirty six you know. She was so young really.’ Dad stroked Lucy’s hair thoughtfully.
‘You know you remind me so much of Mum’ he continued. ‘You look so much like her and you’ve both got the same independent spirit. You’re all I’ve got now Luce. That’s why I want to look after you.’
Lucy nestled into Dad’s arm, but there was something about what he said, or the way that he said it, that did not feel right. She just couldn’t say what made her think that though.
‘Why were there so few people at the funeral?’ Lucy asked. ‘Mum knew lots of people.’
‘Oh I know Luce, Mum was very well-liked, but I just wanted to keep it an intimate affair, just family you see?’ Lucy nodded.
‘Do they report car crashes on the news?’ she asked.
‘Oh sometimes they do, but there are so many car accidents that mostly they don’t bother. It might have been on the local news I suppose, but like I said, it was miles away where the accident happened.
They continued to sip their cocoa quietly in the dark for a few minutes, until Lucy’s mug was empty.
‘Come on then’ said Dad eventually. ‘Let’s get you back to bed.’ They went upstairs and Dad straightened out her duvet and sheets for her before Lucy got back into bed. Dad bent over to give her a soft kiss on the forehead.
‘Sleep tight then Lucy’ he said softly. He plugged in the night light that Lucy used to have on when she was younger and pulled the door quietly closed behind him.
Lucy stared up at the ceiling, an uneasy feeling nagging at her mind. Then she realised. Just now Dad had said that Mum had been driving home from a business trip. Last time he’d told her that Mum had been going to a business meeting.
Lucy felt tired the next morning after her broken nights’ sleep. Her nightmare about Mum had disturbed her and she felt almost guilty that she harboured doubts about what Dad had told her about how Mum had died. Why would he lie to her about something so important? No, she must be mistaken, she thought. Yet despite that, something still didn’t feel right. At some point in the night she dreamt about a girl in a bonnet and old fashioned dress whose face was just out of view. Try as she might she could not seem to see her properly.
‘Are you feeling better this morning Lucy?’ Dad asked sympathetically over a hurried bowl of cereals. He shot her a shy, almost vulnerable smile. She’d have liked to tell him that everything felt fine now, but in fact she felt desolate and empty inside. Lucy just nodded and glanced back down at her cornflakes.
‘You’ll be alright Luce’ said Dad, patting her arm companionably, ‘you’ll see. Mum would be proud of you if she could see you now.’
Did Dad know that she hadn’t been able to stretch out to Spirit for over a week now? Lucy certainly hadn’t told him but maybe he’d guessed. Maybe Thelma had told him that this was the age at which the gift left Dolphin-Children. Maybe he knew that her life was just about to change for the worse. Maybe…maybe. Lucy frowned to herself as she walked up the road to school.
‘What’s up Lucy?’ asked Amy, appearing by her side.
‘Oh hi Amy’ she replied, ‘I didn’t see you there’.
‘My dad would say you were in a world of your own’ Amy replied. ‘You seem so sad. I wish there was somethi
ng I could do to help.’ Lucy tried to smile.
‘I think I’ve lost Spirit’ replied Lucy simply. ‘And the others.’
‘Oh no that’s terrible’ replied Amy, sounding shocked.
‘So what are you going to do then?’ Amy asked her. Lucy shrugged.
‘I don’t know. I don’t know what I can do’ Lucy replied. ‘The only thing is…, well you know that book, the ‘Flora and Fauna of the Cornish Coast’ that someone sent me in the post. I just can’t help thinking that it’s a clue somehow, and if only I could figure it out, it’d help me with Spirit.’
‘Well you’ve got to tell Mrs Penhaligon’ said Amy firmly. ‘She’s from Cornwall, and she knows that you’re a Dolphin-Child doesn’t she?’ Lucy nodded. ‘If anyone can help you figure out the clues, she can.’
‘I’ve got the book in my bag’ said Lucy. ‘I’ll try and speak to her after English at the first break.’
When Lucy and Amy had both started Secondary School, it had seemed so massive and unwelcoming with hordes of children streaming about in all directions. Now that Lucy knew where everything was and who all the teachers were, it didn’t seem so bad. In September she’d had to help the new kids wandering around who looked so lost. It was funny to think that she’d been just like that the year before. Now the school looked much smaller. Lucy thought about what Spirit had said recently. Lucy had been able to project into his mind what school looked like. He had been horrified by the smallness of it all.
‘There’s barely enough space to turn!’ he exclaimed. ‘One flick of my tail flukes and I’d hit my beak on the wall’ he continued. ‘I don’t know how humans manage to live in such miniscule boxes. I’d go mad if I was stuck in such a tiny space.’ Lucy thought about Star-Gazer being trapped in the muddy lagoon by Mr and Mrs Penrose. They thought that they were protecting her while she was getting better. Instead Star-Gazer had become desperately lonely and unwell. Lucy liked to view her life as a school girl through the eyes of a dolphin and imagine her classroom filling up with sea water and a dolphin swimming in through the window.
Midnight Dolphin Page 5
