by Ruth Thomas
Roy added his feeble cries to Nicky’s piercing ones, but the answer was only a chill, uncaring silence.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ said Nicky. ‘You can shout louder than that!’
‘It’s cold,’ Roy whimpered.
‘You got your coat,’ said Nicky. ‘What more do you want?’
‘The water’s cold.’
‘Of course it’s cold,’ said Nicky, impatiently. ‘It’s meant to be cold. What do you expect – bath water?’
‘I’m s-scared!’ said Roy.
‘No use being scared,’ said Nicky. ‘That’s not going to help.’ She strained her eyes in the almost-dark. ‘I think we could climb a bit over there,’ she said. ‘To make us higher.’
There was a jutting-out piece of rock, rather less than a metre high, and quite easy to climb on to. They sat not uncomfortably, their legs dangling over the side. ‘It’s nearly to my feet now, Nicky,’ Roy whispered.
‘Perhaps there’s a better ledge farther on,’ said Nicky. ‘A higher one. . . . Did you notice before, if there’s a better ledge? Shall we go and look? We can still paddle, the water’s not really deep.’
‘It might be very deep further along, though. And it’s all dark. We might drown while we’re looking!’
Nicky stood, and peered upwards. He might be right, and anyway it might be easier to persuade him to climb from where they were. Better, too! Get them higher – farther above this nuisance sea!
She felt around with her hands, then began to climb.
‘Don’t!’ said Roy, in alarm.
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t climb, you’ll fall!’
‘It’s all right, I’m a good climber. There’s another good ledge up here, I can feel it. You could climb it as well.’
‘I can’t, I can’t!’
‘Yes you can. Watch me!’
Her fingers gripped the perch, while her toes scrabbled at the rocky cliff face, seeking a foothold. She dug in her toes, and pulled on her arms. It was painful, but not all that hard. She straightened her elbows and leaned over the perch. ‘Easy peasy!’ she shouted to Roy, as she manoeuvred one knee on to the new ledge. The jagged rock scraped the inside of her leg, as she wriggled it further in. ‘I made it!’ she called. ‘Come on, now you!’
Roy stood on the ledge below, his face against the rock. ‘I can’t!’
‘Yes you can! Try!’
‘I can’t, I can’t!’ He was panicking. Nicky lay full length on her higher perch, and stretched her hand downwards. ‘Catch hold my hand. I’ll pull you!’
He looked up. He was terrified by the gap between them, and he couldn’t reach her hand, however hard they both stretched. ‘I can’t,’ he whimpered.
Nicky sat on her safe perch and considered. There was no getting away from it, this was a very tricky situation. It was Mr Hunt’s fault. Everyone asked him to explain why the sea was dangerous, and he couldn’t be bothered. Just because it was playtime, and he wanted his cup of tea! He never said about the tide could come in high, and cover all the beach. And it was coming up now all the time – look at it! And how was anyone supposed to know how much farther it would come?
It wasn’t up to Roy’s ledge yet, but it soon might be! For all she knew it could come higher, and higher, and higher. It could cover Roy all over, and he was too panicky to climb, and if he tried he could fall, and hurt himself.
‘All right, Roy,’ she called, to calm him. ‘Don’t you worry. Don’t you worry, Roy! I know another way.’
‘What?’
‘I’ll climb to the top. Get someone to help.’
‘You can’t!’
‘I can, Roy, it’s not too hard for me!’ Well, she had to say that, since there didn’t seem to be any choice.
‘There’s nobody up there.’
‘I can run till I find someone.’
‘Don’t climb! You’ll fall!’
‘I won’t! When did you ever see me fall? Well, then!’
‘You can’t climb the top bit, anyway. It’s straight up at the top, I can see!’
‘You’re a liar. It’s too dark to see as far as that.’
‘I saw before. . . . Nicky, don’t leave me!’
She had started already, though. She stood on the ledge, her hands moving upward. This was more difficult. Instead of rising straight, the cliff face now bulged outwards. Nicky felt, gripped, pulled herself, clung, and was frightened. Out, farther out, and now her head overhung the ledge altogether. Slowly, painfully, centimetre by centimetre Nicky hauled herself round the bulge. Her hands found one crack after another, her feet and knees took as much of her weight as she could manage. She hoped there would not be many more bulges like this one, because really this climb was the most frightening thing she had ever done in her life.
She had made it! She was round the bulge, now what next? Her hands moved farther up, to grip a piece of rock. One toe found a new foothold, the other would be next to move. She hauled on her hands, while the free leg swung, jabbing at the rock. And the piece of rock she was holding broke clean away!
She fell. She fell feet first, overshooting the safe ledge, grabbing at it with hands that slipped over rough rock and were torn. Her knees struck one jagged spur of rock, throwing her sideways, so that her head crashed against another. She half slithered, half fell, all the way to the bottom, just missing the ledge where Roy sat. And Roy screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
He screamed for help, and there was nobody to hear. He screamed for Nicky to get up, because she was slumped against the cliff, he could see that much, and he didn’t think her face was in the water, but it might be! Fearfully, he climbed off his shelf, and found her head; and it wasn’t in the water yet, because the rock was propping it up. He lifted it, and saw in the bit of light reflected off the water, how her eyes were closed, and her mouth drooped open.
The little waves coming in broke against the cliff, receded, then rolled in again. At the highest point of the last wave, the water was nearly up to Roy’s waist. He dragged Nicky by the head, and heaved her body partly on to the shelf. The moving water took her weight, and he left her lying there, legs still trailing in the sea, while he climbed, sobbing, back on to the shelf himself. He lifted Nicky’s head again, and it was quite, quite limp.
She was dead! Roy was quite, quite sure that Nicky was dead. And he wanted to run, and run, from this horrifying thing that had happened, but there was nowhere to run to, so he just retreated as far along the downward-sloping shelf as he could. He turned his back on Nicky, and he turned his back on the oncoming sea, and buried his face against the rock. While the water came higher, and higher, and higher.
He didn’t care about the water. If Nicky was going to be dead, then he might as well be dead too, because he couldn’t manage without her. Who would look after him, if she wasn’t there? Who would punch people’s heads in for him, if she wasn’t there? No, if Nicky wasn’t there, he might as well be dead!
And then he felt the water, cold over his feet, and he didn’t want to die after all. He didn’t want to drown, he wanted to be alive, even if he was going to be by himself for ever. He pounded at the cliff with his fist, and cried, because he wanted to stay alive really, and anyway he was terrified of the dark cold water, that was going to come up, and come over his head, and come in his eyes and his nose and his mouth, so he couldn’t breathe.
And the water was over Nicky’s face now, probably, but it didn’t matter if she couldn’t breathe, because she couldn’t breathe anyway, because she was dead. And then there was another thought, pushing through the numb terror that held him. Perhaps Nicky wasn’t dead after all! Perhaps she was just unconscious! People could be unconscious as well as dead, he forgot that! And she was drowning, she was drowning because he had left her face lying in the water! Sick with horror, Roy wanted to run again, and run and run and run, because he had let Nicky drown, and she was drowning now, perhaps, and he was too terrified to go back and see.
Only he must
go back, he must, because it might not be too late. Sobbing, and gulping, and clinging to the cliff face, Roy stumbled up the slopy ledge, back to the place where Nicky lay. The first wave of the rising tide washed over Nicky’s face as Roy grabbed her head to lift it up.
She moaned, and muttered, and Roy’s heart came right up into his throat. ‘Nicky! Nicky!’ She didn’t answer him, because she had lapsed into unconsciousness again – but she was alive! She was alive!
She was heavy though, he couldn’t hold her like this much longer. Whimpering with loneliness and fear, Roy struggled into a sitting position, with the sharp rock sticking into him; his back against the cliff, and Nicky lolling against his chest. He held her head very carefully, from behind, and begged the water not to come any higher. Well anyway, not much higher. Because like this he could keep Nicky from drowning, but if he had to stand up he didn’t see how he would be able to lift her – she was too heavy.
It was very dark now. Only a few pale stars glimmered in the cloudy sky.
Inspector Kendall, Detective Constable Shaw and Mr Nelson were combing the streets of Southbourne; and the uniformed police were looking too. No one had seen the children at the caravan park though, and that was bad news. Had they come here after all? Had the police worked it out wrong? Or had the children come to some harm on the way?
‘We warn them and warn them about taking lifts from strangers,’ said Inspector Kendall to Mr Nelson. ‘We warn them, and you people warn them as well, I know. And they don’t take it in! They just don’t take it in!’
‘Actually, I don’t think Nicky would hitch a lift,’ said Mr Nelson. ‘I’d say it’s not in her character. She’s a daredevil, but she’s wary of people in some ways. Both the kids are; the mother encourages it.’
‘Good!’ said Inspector Kendall. ‘We still have to cover the possibility, of course, but I’m inclined to think you’re right. . . . Look, Sir, you obviously know this girl pretty well. Can’t you get into her thinking? Come up with something we’ve missed?’
‘Nicky’s thinking isn’t like anyone else’s,’ said Mr Nelson.
‘Then concentrate on what’s special about it. Try!’
Mr Nelson closed his eyes. ‘She asked about the beach!’ he said, suddenly. ‘Dotty questions about walking round the country on the beach.’
‘Did she!’ said Inspector Kendall.
‘You think they might have attempted it?’ said Mr Nelson. ‘To walk from Easthaven to Southbourne, along the beach?’
‘Do you think so?’
Mr Nelson pounded his forehead with his fist. ‘Yes, yes, yes! I’m an idiot! It should have been obvious!’
‘I don’t think you can,’ said Detective Shaw, trying to remember all the details of the coastline. ‘Walk all the way along the beach, I mean. Anyway, it’s ten miles!’
‘The kids might not realize how far it is,’ said the Inspector.
‘They wouldn’t realize how far it is!’ said Mr Nelson. ‘Unless someone told them. If they were going by a map they’d have no idea of the real distance. . . .We did look for them on the beach, though. This afternoon. We went a fair way.’
‘Perhaps not far enough,’ said Inspector Kendall.
‘They surely wouldn’t have got far over those pebbles,’ put in Detective Shaw.
‘That’s what I thought this afternoon,’ said Mr Nelson. ‘But that was before I knew there was a purpose. They would have got just as far as Nicky set her mind to going, I promise you!’
‘Not too far, I hope.’ Detective Shaw’s voice was troubled.
‘Let’s go!’ said Inspector Kendall.
‘Good God, yes!’ said Mr Nelson. ‘Poor little devils, it must be pitch dark out there!’
‘That’s not what’s worrying me,’ said Detective Shaw.
‘Something I haven’t thought of?’ said Inspector Kendall.
‘Something dangerous?’ said Mr Nelson, anxiously.
‘What about Gull Point?’
‘Good God, yes!’ There was a new urgency in the Inspector’s voice. ‘What time’s high tide?’
‘Just about now, I think,’ said Detective Shaw, glancing at the clock on the dashboard.
‘Something dangerous?’ said Mr Nelson, again.
‘There is a notice,’ said Detective Shaw. ‘Of sorts.’
‘Something dangerous?’ said Mr Nelson.
‘Not too dangerous,’ said Detective Shaw, soothingly. ‘Not really dangerous. Unless you were crippled or something. I mean, you can get caught by the tide, but you wouldn’t drown. Even in a very high tide there are places you can climb, and stand.’
‘If you can see what you’re doing,’ said Inspector Kendall. ‘It’s a long shot they’re there, of course, but we won’t take any chances!’
And he reached for the car radio.
Roy was terribly cold. He thought he had never been so cold in his life. Where he sat, the water lapped at his tummy, but when a high wave came it was up to his chest. The waves pulled at him, but not very much. He hoisted Nicky’s body higher, and for the third or fourth time she came to, and struggled. ‘Keep still! Keep still – the water!’ She gabbled something that made no sense, then went limp once more. He was frightened that she really had died this time, and then he was more frightened because he felt the water against his chin. He stretched his back as high as it would go. He crooked his arm round Nicky’s neck, pushing up from the shoulder, so he could keep her head clear if the water came any higher. His arm ached, and ached, and ached.
If he was standing on the beach now, he reckoned, the water would be over both their heads.
He would have to stand on the ledge, he would surely have to stand! Nicky’s weight was across his legs. He struggled to move her, and she wasn’t as heavy as she had been because the water was helping to lift her. He heaved, and pushed her to the side, and the arm that was still round her neck nearly broke off, or so it felt. He hunched up his knees, and pushed with his feet against the rock. But as he heaved her up by the neck, her weight dragged intolerably on his arm and his back and his knees; and he sank back, dropping them both lower into the water.
He was going to drown! They were both going to drown! If he pushed Nicky right away he could stand himself, and then he’d be all right. But Nicky would drown. And it would be a horrible thing if Nicky drowned, because he needed her. And anyway, anyway, it would be a horrible thing if she drowned because she liked being alive so much! He shouted at her to wake up properly, so she could help herself, and she moaned again, and coughed, and said, ‘What is it?’
‘Come on!’ shouted Roy. ‘You got to stand up! The water!’
‘What water?’ said Nicky, indistinctly – and drifted off again.
Frantically, Roy tried to think of another way. If he let her go for a minute, and stood up without her weight against him, and then bent down for her – he might be able to lift her, like that!
Now! Just for a minute while he stood! . . . But he dared not let her go, even for a minute, because if she was unconscious she wouldn’t know how to hold her breath. If he let her go, even for a minute, she might die after all. He began to twist until he was kneeling, facing the rock now, still holding Nicky under the chin. It was hard, and it hurt, and he cried. He had to change arms in the middle of it, and he kept slipping, and it took him ten minutes to do it, but he was kneeling upright at last, and holding Nicky quite a bit higher out of the water.
At that point, Nicky came back to full consciousness. And strength. And panic.
She felt the water, and she felt Roy’s grip round her neck, and she thought she was choking. She fought him, threshing at him with arms and legs. ‘No!’ Roy screamed. ‘No! I’m helping you! I’m helping you!’
But Nicky was too confused to understand. She struggled, and threw her arms about, and kicked. And dragged them both off the ledge.
*
‘Can’t this car go faster?’ said Mr Nelson, again.
‘Don’t worry too much, Sir,’ said Detect
ive Shaw.
‘They’ll be all right, even if they’re there. You’ll see!’
‘They’re able-bodied kids,’ said Inspector Kendall. ‘They aren’t just going to sit down on the beach and let the water come over their heads, are they?’
‘They’ll be scared to death!’ said Mr Nelson. ‘I’m not too concerned about Nicky – she’s a survivor. But Roy’s a weak sort of boy. Not physically, but, you know, nervous. He’ll have nightmares for the rest of his life, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘Well – he’s got a tough sister to look after him, hasn’t he?’
‘Where’s the sea?’ said Mr Nelson. ‘We seem to have lost the sea.’ He hadn’t noticed, the first time, how the road turned inland.
‘There’s no coast road for three or four miles just here,’ said Inspector Kendall. ‘There are cliffs over there, and a beach, but a bit lonely. Not many places to get down. People mostly go to Southbourne or Easthaven. Much better beaches there.’
‘Tide’s turned!’ said Detective Shaw, cheerfully. ‘Several minutes ago, by my calculations.’
‘And here’s the turning for the cliff,’ said Inspector Kendall. ‘This is where we foot it – the danger stretch is that-a-way.’
They all piled out of the car, and Mr Nelson lurched dot-and-carry-one over the dark turf. If the children were there, he wanted to be there too. He wanted to shout down to them not to be frightened. To hold on, and not be frightened, because the water wasn’t going to come any higher, and they weren’t going to drown, and they were going to see their mum soon, and everything was going to be all right.
‘Take it easy now,’ said Inspector Kendall.
‘Don’t fall and break something, whatever you do,’ said Detective Shaw. ‘Otherwise we’ll have to get the ambulance for you . . .’
‘There it is!’ said Inspector Kendall, looking up.
There was a droning, and a whirring, and a light in the sky.
Roy dragged himself up, coughing and spluttering. What happened? His feet were on shingle, and his head was above the waves. Where was Nicky? Where was Nicky? He felt her against him, floundering about under the water. Frantically, he groped for her armpits, and heaved. She came up in terror, but she knew where she was, and she wasn’t fighting him any more.
