Dominic's Discovery

by Dominic's Discovery

  ‘Very well, then, Dominic,’ the teacher replied, ‘and I pray to God that you are right. Come along, let's see this ledge of yours.’

  The children watched as Dominic, followed by Miss Pruitt, headed for the cave.

  ‘Miss, what's happening?’ moaned Nathan as they passed him.

  ‘Yeah, what's happening, miss?’ asked Darren.

  ‘We're trying to find a way out,’ Miss Pruitt told them.

  ‘We never will,’ Nathan groaned. ‘We're all going to drown.’

  Miss Pruitt stopped suddenly in her tracks. ‘If you start that again, Nathan Thomas,’ she exclaimed, ‘I'll give you something to moan and groan about. Listen, children,’ she said to the shivering group, huddling round the mouth of the cave, staring at her with wide, frightened eyes, ‘we think we might have found a way out. Just be a little more patient and, hopefully, we will be soon off the beach and on our way back to the youth hostel.’

  Miss Pruitt and Dominic entered the cave and peered around them.

  ‘I can't see how you can be so certain in this light, Dominic –’ the teacher began.

  ‘There it is, miss,’ said Dominic, pointing up. ‘It's up there, look! You can just see the edge of it. Can you see it?’

  ‘I can't see any ledge,’ she said, straining her eyes, ‘only a bare wall of rock.’

  ‘It's really hard to see from down here,’ said Dominic, ‘but it's there all right. I know it is.’ He shone his torch upwards. ‘Can you see it now, miss?’

  Miss Pruitt screwed up her eyes as if she were wearing particularly small shoes which pinched her toes. ‘No, Dominic, I can't see any ledge. I think you've imagined it.’

  ‘No, no, I haven't, miss,’ he cried. ‘You can't see it because you don't know where to look. When the customs men were looking for contraband, they couldn't see the ledge either. It's really well hidden. That's how the smugglers managed to get away with all the –’

  ‘Stop it, Dominic!’ cried Miss Pruitt. ‘This is not the time for one of your far-fetched tales. Your mind is full of smugglers and pirates and I don't know what. There is no ledge, there never was one and I am very angry with you for wasting my time and building up false hopes.’ With that she strode out of the cave.

  ‘But, miss,’ Dominic called after her, ‘there is a ledge.’

  Sixteen

  Dominic Goes Forth

  Dominic ran after Miss Pruitt and gripped her arm. ‘Miss,’ he pleaded, ‘give me a chance.’

  ‘What?’ asked the teacher.

  ‘Just give me a chance. I have to show you.’

  ‘Dominic –’

  ‘Please.’

  Miss Pruitt thought for a moment and sighed. ‘Very well, but it's a waste of time. There's no ledge.’

  Miss Pruitt watched Dominic begin to climb the steep cave side, placing each foot, one after the other, into small cracks and indentations in the rock.

  ‘Be careful,’ warned the teacher. ‘We don't want another accident.’

  ‘What's he doing, miss?’ asked Nathan.

  ‘Do be careful, Dominic,’ said Miss Pruitt again.

  ‘Miss, what's he doing?’ Nathan persisted.

  ‘He's riding a bicycle,’ said Sean sarcastically. ‘What does it look like he's doing? He's climbing up the side of the cave.’

  ‘Why is he climbing up the wall?’ asked Nathan.

  ‘He's finding us a way out, I hope,’ said Miss Pruitt, not taking her eyes off the climbing boy.

  ‘What about Mr Risley-Newsome?’ asked Velma.

  ‘He can wait for the moment,’ replied Miss Pruitt bluntly. ‘My main priority is getting you children off the beach.’

  Dominic, by this time, had reached the ledge and, pulling himself on to it, disappeared from sight.

  ‘Where's he gone?’ asked Nathan.

  A moment later Dominic looked down on the teacher and children, a great smile of triumph appearing on his face.

  ‘Good gracious!’ exclaimed Miss Pruitt. ‘There was a ledge after all.’

  Dominic stood with that sort of pioneering triumph which Christopher Columbus, Captain Cook and Scott of the Antarctic must have felt on arriving at their destinations after their difficult journeys. He had found the way out all right and stood there feeling on top of the world.

  ‘This is it!’ he cried. ‘I knew it was here. I just knew it.’ He disappeared and a moment later was back, shouting, ‘There are the steps! I can see them!’

  Miss Pruitt looked heavenwards. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed.

  ‘Shall I climb up to the top, miss, and get help?’ asked Dominic.

  Miss Pruitt glanced back at the sea, now well up the beach. ‘Dominic, does the sea reach up there to the ledge when it comes in? Look on the floor. Is there any dried seaweed or shells or anything like that to show that the tide reaches that high?’

  ‘No, miss, it doesn't. It's just a layer of dry sand and bare rock.’

  ‘Well,’ said Miss Pruitt, looking a whole lot happier, ‘I think, if there is room for us all, Dominic, the first thing is to get everyone up to where you are and you can then lead us up the steps.’

  ‘There's plenty of room here,’ Dominic told her. ‘It sort of opens out into a really big space.’

  ‘Splendid!’ exclaimed Miss Pruitt.

  ‘Miss, I can't get up there,’ moaned Nathan. ‘What about my foot?’

  ‘If I have to carry you on my back, Nathan Thomas,’ replied Miss Pruitt, ‘you will get up there. Now, children, I know you are cold and wet but we will soon be warm and dry and out of all danger. Take off your scarves and anything we can tie together to make a sort of rope which will help us to climb that rock face and on to the ledge where Dominic is. It's not that high.’

  ‘Well, I'm not going up,’ mumbled Nathan.

  The pupils pulled off their scarves, their excited chatter filling the cave.

  Dominic sat on the ledge, letting his legs dangle over. He was feeling pretty pleased with himself.

  ‘What's happening?’ came a distant voice from the cliff face.

  Miss Pruitt hurried out of the cave and up to the base of the cliff. A figure caked in thick mud was clinging to the branch of a dead tree. ‘Mr Risley-Newsome!’ she yelled. ‘We have found a way off the beach through the cave and I am taking the children back.’

  ‘What?’ he shouted.

  ‘I said we have found a way off the beach through the cave and I am taking the children back.’

  ‘What about me?’ came a pathetic voice.

  ‘Do you think you could make it down on to the beach?’ asked Miss Pruitt.

  ‘No, I can't. I'm stuck in the mud. When I move, I sink deeper.’

  ‘Don't move, then!’ she shouted up. ‘You stay where you are. I'll get help when we're at the youth hostel.’

  ‘Please hurry, Miss Pruitt. I don't know how much longer I can hold on.’

  Back in the cave, Miss Pruitt lined up the children below the ledge. ‘Now, I want you to listen carefully,’ she said. ‘We are having to leave Mr Risley-Newsome here. He's stuck in the mud, but he will be all right.’

  ‘If he doesn't move,’ Gerald whispered gloomily to no one in particular. ‘If he does move, he'll sink. It can suck you under, can mud. He could disappear without a trace.’

  ‘Gerald,’ said Miss Pruitt, ‘don't be so gruesome.’

  Dominic and his friends could not contain a chuckle at the mention of the word ‘gruesome’.

  ‘That will do,’ said Miss Pruitt. ‘There is nothing funny about Mr Risley-Newsome getting stuck in the mud. Now, we are going to tie all the scarves together to make a rope, climb very carefully on to the ledge where Dominic is and go up through a passage to the top.’

  ‘What passage?’ asked Nathan.

  ‘Dominic has found a passage,’ explained Miss Pruitt.

  ‘How did he know there's a passage?’ asked Nathan.

  ‘Never mind how,’ said the teacher. ‘We haven't all day. Now, come along, everybody, let's get t
hese scarves tied.’

  ‘This is really exciting, miss, isn't it?’ Dominic yelled down.

  ‘Only you could say something like that, Dominic,’ she said, shaking her head and allowing herself a small smile. ‘We are trapped in a cave, with the tide coming in. We are all wet, cold and tired out and you call it exciting.’

  Miss Pruitt, turning to the quiet and shivering pupils, told Velma to tie the rope of scarves round her waist and climb up to Dominic. ‘Don't rely on it to pull you up,’ she told her. ‘It's there as a precaution, in case you lose your footing.’ Velma slowly climbed up the cave side and clambered up on to the ledge.

  ‘Easy-peasy!’ she shouted down.

  ‘Throw one end of the scarf back down,’ Miss Pruitt told Velma, ‘and you and Dominic hold on to your end very tightly. Michael, you are next. Tie the scarves round your waist and take your time climbing. Off you go.’

  One by one the pupils ascended the rock face until there was only Miss Pruitt, Gerald and Nathan left below.

  ‘Come along, Nathan, let's get you up there with the others.’

  ‘I can't, miss. I can't go up there. I know I can't.’

  ‘Come on, Nathan,’ said Dominic, ‘you can do it.’

  ‘No, no,’ he moaned petulantly, ‘I can't. I'm frightened, miss. I might fall and break my neck.’

  ‘We are all frightened, Nathan,’ said Miss Pruitt, ‘but it will soon be over. On your feet. Give me a hand will you please, Gerald.’

  ‘I can't,’ said Nathan, beginning to cry.

  ‘Come on, Nathan,’ said Gerald. ‘Everyone's done it.’

  ‘Well, I can't!’ he sobbed.

  ‘Get up!’ shouted Velma suddenly, her voice echoing around the cave. ‘It's because of your spraining an ankle that we're in this mess. Get off your backside and get moving!’

  ‘Velma!’ said Miss Pruitt sharply. ‘We can do without that, thank you very much. There's only one teacher here. Come along, Nathan,’ she said gently. ‘On your feet.’

  Gerald and the teacher helped up the whimpering boy and tied the rope of scarves round his waist. He was heaved and hoisted, pushed and pulled until he was with all the other children on the ledge, where he sat quivering and snivelling. Moments later Miss Pruitt and Gerald, accompanied by rousing cheers and whistles which echoed loudly, were there too.

  ‘Just in time, miss,’ said Dominic, pointing down.

  The sea had now reached the cave entrance and was nibbling at the sand like some great grey creature. Very soon it would swirl into the entrance, crash against the walls, froth and foam and fill the cave's interior.

  ‘Right, children,’ said Miss Pruitt, banishing thoughts of what might have happened from her mind, ‘let's get out of here.’

  Dominic, shining his torch ahead of him, led a line of excited chattering children, like the Pied Piper, all the way up the flight of steps. Miss Pruitt brought up the rear, supporting a groaning and white-faced Nathan.

  ‘It's amazing what a bit of determination can do, isn't it, Nathan?’ said the teacher cheerily.

  ‘Yes, miss,’ replied Nathan quietly. ‘I was really scared.’

  ‘We all were,’ she reassured him.

  With a little effort and some help, Dominic managed to slide the slab of stone aside sufficiently for him to scramble out. He pushed with all his might until the whole square entrance was exposed, flooding the tunnel with daylight. The rain had now stopped and a cold wind rustled the bushes. He emerged from the darkness, took a deep breath and his face suffused with a great smile of relief. ‘We've done it!’ he cried. ‘We're home!’

  Soon they were all out of the tunnel, cheering wildly.

  ‘Let's just calm down, shall we?’ said Miss Pruitt. ‘We have had a real experience today, an ordeal that we are not likely to forget for some time. You have all been absolutely wonderful, brave and well behaved and I am very proud of you.’ There was more than one listener who gave Nathan a sideways glance at these words. ‘Now, let's make our way, sensibly, to the youth hostel. I want you all to get out of your wet things, put on some dry clothes and meet me in the library in fifteen minutes. I will arrange for a hot drink and something to eat. Best behaviour, please. I need to see to Nathan's foot.’

  Wet, dishevelled and weary, but still chattering excitedly, the pupils made their way across the grass at the rear of the youth hostel.

  On the way Miss Pruitt, with Nathan limping beside her, caught up with Dominic. ‘You were brilliant, Dominic,’ she said, and she squeezed his shoulder and smiled. Velma nudged Sean and they smiled too. ‘I could give you a great big hug, I really could.’

  ‘Please don't, miss!’ Dominic exclaimed, looking decidedly uneasy. ‘That would be taking things a bit too far.’

  Once inside the youth hostel, Miss Pruitt, having deposited Nathan on a chair in the warm kitchen, with Dominic, Velma and Darren to keep him company, went in search of Miss Brewster.

  ‘I thought I'd never get off that beach,’ wailed Nathan. His body began to shake uncontrollably and great tears streamed down his grubby cheeks. ‘I really thought we'd drown. I… I… was –’ He couldn't finish the sentence but sat there crying and trembling.

  What a picture he presented, thought Dominic. The bragging, cruel-tongued tormentor was now a blubbering, pathetic, trembling figure hunched in the chair like an old man. His teasing days were over. He would never wish to be reminded of his behaviour on the beach.

  ‘Well, it's over now, Nathan,’ said Dominic gently. He rested his hand on the boy's shoulder, recalling one of his gran's expressions: ‘Never kick a man when he's down’.

  ‘Yes, it's over now,’ echoed Darren, who had recently taken to repeating Dominic. ‘All over now.’

  ‘We're all safe,’ said Dominic. ‘That's the main thing.’

  ‘All safe,’ said Darren.

  ‘Thanks to Dominic,’ added Velma. She did not feel quite as charitable towards Nathan.

  ‘Yeah, thanks to Dominic,’ repeated Darren.

  Miss Brewster, followed by Miss Pruitt, bustled into the kitchen.

  ‘I was beginning to get worried,’ Miss Brewster was telling the teacher. ‘You were overdue. I was about to give the police a call. I know how cold and wet it can get out there at this time of year. Now, where's the invalid?’ She examined the ankle. ‘Oh, not too bad, just a nasty sprain, I think. Better get you to the hospital just to be on the safe side, though. I'll run him in if you like, Miss Pruitt. Perhaps you'd like to come. I'm sure Mr Risley-Newsome will be able to manage on his own.’

  ‘Mr Risley-Newsome!’ gasped Miss Pruitt. ‘I forgot all about him. He's still stuck in the mud!’

  Epilogue

  Later that day Mr Risley-Newsome, bent and mud-caked, looking like the ‘Creature from the Black Lagoon’, shuffled across the grass at the rear of the youth hostel between his two rescuers. The air-sea rescue team had been called out and he had been winched off the cliff face by helicopter and delivered back to the youth hostel in this sad and sorry state.

  The police had been none too pleased with him and he had received a good telling-off in the library, with all the children listening in at the door.

  ‘It beggars belief,’ the policeman had told him sternly, ‘that supposedly responsible teachers should even consider taking children on such a dangerous stretch of coast, particularly at this time of year and in weather like this. Thundercliff Wyke is notorious. It's extremely rocky, very secluded, there are falling rocks, shifting sands, mountains of sinking mud and fast-rising tides. It's a recipe for disaster. There are signs right along that coast. All the guide books mention how dangerous it can be. Even on a fine day, conditions can rapidly change, and you take children across a deserted beach in November! It only takes a freak wave or the tide to come in quickly for people to get into trouble, to be swept away, fall off crumbling cliffs, be cut off or end up stuck in the mud. Did you not think of checking all this before you set off?’

  Dominic could visualize Miss Pruitt sittin
g there in silence, with an expression which said ‘I told you so’.

  ‘And if you will climb mountains and walk in deserted areas,’ the policeman continued, ‘you would be well advised to wear something bright. We would have found you a whole lot sooner if you had been dressed like the other teacher.’

  That evening, after dinner, Mr Risley-Newsome stood at the library window, looking across the endless sea, now calm and silver in the moonlight. The two great headlands at the ends of the crescent of sand rose hump-backed like great marine creatures emerging from the still water. Silhouetted against the empty sky, they looked black and foreboding.

  ‘May I come in, sir?’ It was Dominic.

  ‘What is it, Dowson?’

  ‘I just want to return this book.’

  ‘Return it, then.’

  The teacher stared out again at the ocean. He shuddered. In his mind's eye he saw the most terrifying picture. The cold grey ocean sweeping relentlessly up the beach, its icy arms enfolding the children, tugging them down, down, down to the watery depths.

  ‘Are you all right, sir?’ asked Dominic.

  ‘Of course I'm all right,’ he snapped. ‘Get about your business.’

  Of course, he was far from all right. He had been made to look a fool; he felt humiliated. Mr Risley-Newsome knew he would never be quite the same again.

  Just before the children got ready for bed, Miss Pruitt stood at the window in the games' room. What a week it had been. What a memorable week. Talk about excitement, thrills, action and humour. She smacked her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. Poor Mr Risley-Newsome. She thought of the sight of him, covered from head to toe in mud, completely brown save for the whites of his eyes, arriving at the door of the youth hostel like some ponderous creature which had crawled out of a swamp. Then, later, he had stood there before the policeman like a naughty schoolboy in front of the headteacher. She knew it was not charitable to laugh at another's misfortunes (she had told the children that often enough), but she couldn't restrain herself.

  ‘Ha ha ha,’ she chortled.

  ‘Are you all right, miss?’ asked Dominic, looking up from his game of chess with Velma.