Storm Surge

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Storm Surge Page 9

by Melissa Gunn


  Tammy stomped off to the bathroom. Freya put Mr Fluffbum’s cat cage on the floor in the corner of the kitchen.

  “You won’t be in there too much longer, I promise. We need to get everything clean first, then you can explore inside.”

  The cat meowed piteously for a while, before giving up and curling up to sleep.

  Fifteen minutes after they’d started cleaning a tremendous gurgling sound began from the bathroom. Danae, who’d been battling the mould in the bedrooms upstairs, called out.

  “Tammy? Is that you? Freya, go check on her, please,” called Danae.

  There was no answer from Tammy, but the gurgling transitioned to splashing, then a dull thumping came from the bathroom door. Freya dumped her ragged cleaning cloth on the kitchen bench - the Formica must be decades old; it wouldn’t suffer further from having a dirty rag on it - and went to investigate. She took the nearly full spray bottle of sugar soap she’d found under the sink. Maybe that would speed up Tammy’s cleaning, assuming that was what was causing the noises.

  “Tammy, are you in there?” There was no answer, but more thumps sounded on the door. Freya tried the door. It seemed to be locked. “Tammy, what are you doing? Look, I’m coming in. Can you unlock the door?” Still no answer. Freya considered her options. There was an outside window to the bathroom, but it was small. Too small for someone her size to get in and out of. That wasn’t going to do much good. She looked at the sugar soap in her hand. Useful, yes, but maybe not what she needed right now. She went back to the kitchen, where a box of food sat, yet to be unpacked. A nearly full packet of salt was wedged between cereal and a paper bag of dried herbs.

  Yes, that might help. I’m sure Mum said salt was good for removing negative energy, and it sure sounds like that’s what there is in there.

  Freya pulled at the packet, which stuck. It came unstuck all at once, pulling the herb bag out with it, and ripping it open. Both she and the kitchen floor were showered with salt crystals and green flecks.

  “I only just cleaned that floor!” Freya glared at the speckled floor, before scraping together the remaining salt that had hit the bench rather than the floor. It was speckled, too. “Oh well, I guess a few bits of fennel in the salt won’t hurt.”

  She marched back towards the bathroom. There was water spurting through the keyhole and out from under the door, now. The long, dusty carpets in the hall were history, judging by the squelching as she walked on them.

  No great loss, I guess, thought Freya, observing the ugly pattern on them.

  “Hold tight, Tammy. I’m trying to help.” There were more muffled gurgling sounds. “What are you doing in there?”

  “’M fine,” came Tammy’s muffled voice.

  She doesn’t sound fine. I’d better do something.

  Freya unscrewed the spray-cap of the soap bottle, poured the remaining salt from her palm into the bottle, and replaced the cap. She shook the mixture up, gave an experimental squirt towards the floor - it needed a good clean, too - and raised the bottle towards the bathroom door’s keyhole.

  “Stand back, Tammy.”

  Pushing the soap bottle against the keyhole, she gave three quick squirts. The water stopped trickling. She gave another squirt. The water started to slow its progress from under the door.

  Maybe I need to put some spray down there, too.

  She bent lower, and gave a few squirts of salty, soapy, herby solution to the crack below the door. The water stopped flowing altogether, and the gurgling sound resumed. “Tammy, are you OK in there?” The gurgling stopped at last, and Tammy’s voice, rather fainter than usual, replied.

  “Er. Yeah. Fine. Give me a moment.” There was a silence punctuated by muffled thuds.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  The door opened a crack, and a bedraggled Tammy looked out. She was wet from head to toe, and her usual artfully enhanced face had makeup smudged across it.

  “Bathroom’s clean,” she announced in bright tones. Freya opened her mouth, then closed it without saying anything. She didn’t want to be a nag, not when her sister was pretty much the only near-aged company she had. But it was quite clear to her that Tammy had ignored their mother’s injunction against using water nymphs as cleaning aides.

  “Good,” she said. After all, what more was there to say?

  Later, they hung up all the soggy carpets outside, hoping that the uncertain spring sunshine would dry everything out by sunset.

  Mum shouldn’t have been surprised that Tammy didn’t listen. After all, she doesn’t usually.

  Their mother did seem surprised though. Her admonitory lecture had begun when she came downstairs to find out what the thumping had been about, and hadn’t finished yet. From behind the longest rug, part of Tammy’s face appeared. She saw Freya on the other side of it, and winked.

  No, I don’t think Tammy’s listening now, either.

  As it turned out, Freya loved many things about their new town. It was further inland, for a start, and the hills were novel after so long in the fens and broads. But she couldn’t tell kids at school about nymphs in the bathroom, or making her first feathered cloak from collected feathers, or identifying demis by the subtle clues in their behaviour or dress. That meant that once again, she had no friends at school. And it was too far to get to a beach to meet Lio.

  “Honestly, Tammy, how does Mum expect me to make friends when I can’t tell them anything about who I really am? How I spend my time after school? It’s not like I can invite anyone home for a quick lesson in deity-recognition. Even if I wanted to, Mum never agrees.”

  Tammy shrugged.

  “I don’t try. Friends come; friends go. It works out. They don’t need to know my innermost secrets, or even my outermost ones. Just be yourself, your mostly-human self, I mean.”

  There was a sudden glint in Tammy’s eye.

  “Of course, that could be the problem. Maybe you’re just too ‘I’m more deified than thou’.” She didn’t finish the sentence as Freya leapt at her, mock pouncing like a cat.

  “OK, OK, calm down. I’m teasing you. I know it’s tough coming to a new town. Think of me, I haven’t got to see Dan in weeks. I have to break in a whole new crowd.”

  “But that’s just it. How do you always manage to get a crowd?”

  It was Tammy’s turn to shrug.

  “It takes more time in some places. I mean, look at me, I’m having to clean bathrooms in order to get company here.”

  “That didn’t work out so well for the rest of us.” Freya had not enjoyed lugging wet carpets around.

  “Maybe you don’t remember, but we had some history in the town on the cliff, people knew us a bit. We were there for a couple of years, after all. Tell you what, stick with me for a bit, this weekend. You’ll fit in sooner or later, but there’s some things I could do with your help with, when we get some time off.”

  “I’m guessing that if it’s something you want to do, I won’t enjoy it. No thanks.”

  “Just help me out this weekend, and I’ll show you what I mean. No need to be lonely when you’re descended from Freya and Dionysus.”

  Freya hunched her shoulders.

  “Maybe I like being lonely. Anyway, I’ve got Mr Fluffbum.”

  “A cat is not an excuse to have no friends, Freya.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SUMMER

  The weather warmed up enough to dry out the inside of the house as well as the outside. Their mother had picked up a few extra hours work in a nearby horticultural centre, leaving Tammy and Freya on their own a lot. She was going in for a morning’s work this Saturday, which would mean money for groceries. Tammy was officially in charge of Freya. Freya was still slowly eating breakfast, trying and failing to convince herself that a bowl of porridge was delicious without milk and sugar.

  “And no leaving Freya alone, this time,” cautioned their mother as she stowed a wrinkled apple in her bag for lunch. Freya glanced up at her in surprise. Had her Mu
m noticed Freya being left alone when her sister went out? Mum usually seemed oblivious to that sort of thing.

  “You’d know where I was if I had a phone,” Freya suggested.

  “Maybe so, but who’s going to pay for one?” said Danae.

  Money is always the problem.

  “I’d have more friends if I had a phone, too.”

  “If they are only not your friends because you don’t have a phone, they’re not worth having as friends.”

  That was depressingly true, but it didn’t help Freya feel any better.

  Phones are pretty much essential for life, why doesn’t Mum realise that?

  “Enough about phones, Freya. Stay with your sister, and I’ll be back in time for dinner. The shift shouldn’t go on any longer than that. Look after each other, girls. I’ve got to go now, or I’ll be late.”

  Freya watched her mother’s retreating back for a moment, feeling her tension release as the front door closed. This was the first time in a while they’d had a whole day to themselves to explore the surrounding area without being pressed into finding food as well, or having to sit through extra lessons. The sky was blue, and the hills were inviting. It was too good an opportunity to miss. She took the last bite of porridge and stood up, shoving back the rickety chair that you had to sit on just so, or it wobbled unbearably.

  “Come on Freya, hurry up!” Tammy was waiting by the door.

  Freya shoved a couple of precious flapjacks into her rucksack, double checked that she had a water bottle, and added a light coat.

  “I am hurrying, I’m just packing a few things so we don’t have to survive off the land today.”

  “Oh, alright. I’m not in the mood for whatever’s growing at this time of year anyway.” Tammy returned to her phone.

  Mr Fluffbum sauntered over to investigate Freya’s rucksack, and rubbed against her legs.

  “Sorry Mr Fluffbum, you can’t come with us this time. You look after the house.” Last time Freya had let Mr Fluffbum wander, he’d disappeared for hours, then when she returned home from a fruitless search for him, she’d found him gnawing on the remains of a brownie. Now, Freya didn’t trust Mr Fluffbum at home unless he was shut in. One mangled brownie was one too many as far as Freya was concerned.

  “We’re going out for a walk, not on a camping trip, Freya.” Tammy was obviously impatient to go, waiting by the front door and flicking irritably through some app on her phone, glancing up at Freya from time to time as though she was an irritating intrusion. Tammy’s phone was so frequently in her hand that it was practically an extension of her sister. “Come on, slow poke,” Tammy said when Freya finally joined her. “I found something interesting to check out, but we won’t get to see it if you don’t get a move on.”

  Freya looked at Tammy in surprise.

  “I’m not convinced it’s something I want to see, if you’re so keen. Can’t we just see if there are lambs on the hills, that sort of thing?”

  “Boring. Come on, you’re always wanting me to do things with you. This is your chance.”

  “I guess.”

  Freya hastily slid her feet into dishevelled trainers, wondering what Tammy was so animated about. Usually, she protested at having to look after Freya. She certainly didn’t want to show her things.

  “I’m ready.”

  I hope this is going to be worthwhile. Maybe I’ll see some lambs anyway.

  Tammy led her away from the town - their cottage was on the edge of town, but not far enough out to be considered a country house. They passed the town’s allotments, verdant with spring growth. Freya spotted young onions, crawling tendrils of peas, and lush potato tops. She craned her neck, trying to see their plot from the road. Had the lettuce sprouted yet? She’d spent the past week helping her mother do the weeding after school. She hadn’t been thrilled about being pressed into helping to destroy plants, but she was glad that her mum was enjoying herself, humming as she worked – such a change from the bitter lines Danae’s face had often assumed in recent months. The allotment gave Freya something to do after school apart from worrying about whether she’d make any friends. It was also a less tension-filled pursuit than demi-hunting expeditions, the only other thing her Mum seemed inclined to do with her these days. She wished her Dad was around still, to take her out for chips and feed the gulls. That had been a much more relaxing way to spend an hour or two.

  Tammy hustled her past the allotments, seeming anxious not to be spotted.

  “Come on, Freya,” she repeated. “We’re not stopping to garden; we’ve got better things to do.”

  She led the way up the hill, pressing on faster than Freya’s still-shorter legs could manage, then waited at the top of the slope. There, she pointed to a stile leading into the fields. A walkway went through the valley and disappeared into some woods near a stream in the distance.

  “That way. Quickly though, there were cows in here last week and I don’t want to be bothered by them. There might be a bull.”

  Freya hastily climbed over and half-walked, half-ran in the direction Tammy pointed. She didn’t want to be bothered by a bull, either. They reached the next field without incident, and without glimpsing either cows or bulls, to Freya’s relief. She didn’t mind them, exactly, but they were so big and curious. There were sheep, and lambs, too.

  “Oh, look, Tammy! Lambs! They’re so cute the way they bounce over the grass.”

  “I guess. They don’t do much for me.”

  Freya was disappointed when Tammy hustled her past the lambs.

  Over the next stile, and they were closing on the woods. The sky was mostly blue on this spring morning, a welcome change after a week of rain and grey skies. The sound of the swollen stream rushing through its bed reached their ears.

  “Nearly there,” Tammy encouraged Freya. Tammy left the path right at the edge of the woods, leading the way behind some bushes which hid them from the road. She seemed to be taking care not to be seen by anyone.

  “We are allowed to be here, aren’t we?” Freya asked nervously. She didn’t want to be shouted at by some irate landowner.

  “‘Course we are, it’s a public footpath. I just don’t want anyone joining us.”

  Freya wondered who might join them in such a lonely spot. Sure, there were always ramblers, but not many bothered to come near this village. It wasn’t renowned for anything in particular. Tammy set down her own bag by the stream edge, and told Freya to do the same. There was a bare patch of ground there, too trodden down by cows to grow things. A small weir slowed the stream just after the bare patch, and the sound of water rushing over it was loud in Freya’s ears. Beyond that, the stream disappeared into the trees, dark and uninviting. Freya shivered, although it wasn’t cold.

  “Alright, now has Mum taught you anything about Norse magic or summoning yet?” Tammy asked. Freya shook her head.

  “Just demi-spotting and folklore. You’ve been in the room half the time, surely you know that.”

  “Me being in the room is not the same as me paying attention,” said Tammy.

  Freya rolled her eyes.

  “I keep hoping Mum’s going to tell me more than myths and how to identify other demis. But she’s always too busy or too tired, these days,” she said.

  “Well, then you’d better listen up. This is probably the most fun thing you can do with a summoning, but Mum won’t tell you about it. It works best with more than one of us, which is why I need you. And don’t tell her I told you, or else!”

  Tammy was fierce, her gaze holding Freya’s eyes until she nodded.

  “Right. The first thing you should know is that you definitely do need to follow the rules. Do everything I say, and nothing else, got it?”

  Freya nodded again, an unexpected thrill coursing through her. What was Tammy going to show her? Would she finally learn something of her own powers? Perhaps the Tammy would know a trigger that Lio hadn’t been able to think of. She felt a pang of loneliness, knowing that she was too far from the sea to see L
io.

  Tammy selected a long stick of fennel from the weedy area at the edge of the field, pulled a pinecone out of her jacket pocket and lashed it onto the fennel with some lengths of ivy from the edge of the woods, then returned to the stream’s edge.

  “This part I learnt from Dad when he was celebrating a big wine sale one time. It’s Dionysian, sort of. I’m pretty sure Mum never, ever does this. This is top-notch fusion, not traditional Norse stuff. Although it’s got a bit of that, too. And I don’t want you blabbing to her, OK?”

  Freya was more concerned with Tammy having learnt something from their Dad that he hadn’t shared with her. How come she hadn’t been included?

  “When did Dad teach you? He never taught me anything about his demi heritage.”

  “He probably thought you were too young. It was a couple of years ago, at least. And you were probably out with Mum.”

  “And he didn’t argue with you? Wow.”

  “Well, I guess he showed me because I was arguing that he never taught me anything, but that’s not the point.”

  Tammy found a section of bank where the young grass was still thin, and drew a circle in the dirt around herself and Freya.

  “Stay inside the circle. Don’t even poke your finger out, or I’ll be going home alone to tell Mum you were eaten.”

  Freya’s thrill turned to dread; a cold hand clenched in her stomach.

  “Should we be doing this then? If it’s so dangerous?” She hated the quiver in her voice, but couldn’t quite control it. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to let your sister get eaten while you’re in charge.”

  “Don’t be such a wimp. We’ll be fine if you follow the rules. But I think you should know about this, and Mum won’t ever tell you. And like I said, it’s fun. So, as your big sister, it’s my job to educate you about the possibilities. Just stay in the circle.” Tammy was dismissive, despite the danger she’d just highlighted.

  “I don’t want to be eaten.”

 

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