Song of the Dolphin Boy

by Elizabeth Laird

  Finn was already heading off along the high street. Professor Jamieson stepped back outside and called after the running children, ‘Stick together! Don’t be too long, and be careful!’

  The high street of Rothiemuir was slowly coming to life. Quite a few people were waiting at the bus station. Jas was about to stick a poster on the window of the ticket office when the glare of an inspector standing nearby sent her scurrying away.

  A trickle of people were coming out of the church on the corner, and the minister, his white robes billowing around him in the morning breeze, was shaking them all by the hand.

  Kyla went up to him. She was used to church. Her mother took her and Dougie to Sunday School sometimes at the chapel on the far side of Rothiemuir.

  ‘Please can I stick this poster up on your noticeboard?’ she asked the minister.

  ‘What, my dear? What’s it about?’ said the minister, dropping the hand of the old lady who was telling him about her bad back.

  ‘It’s about the balloon release by the supermarket tomorrow afternoon,’ said Kyla shyly.

  The minister frowned.

  ‘No thank you. We don’t allow advertising on our noticeboard.’

  ‘It’s not advertising,’ said Finn, running up. ‘It’s about saving the dolphins. The balloons are going to kill them. It’s so awful. We’ve got to stop it!’

  He was feeling too much to get the words out properly.

  The minister took the poster and read it.

  ‘Who made these posters?’

  ‘I did,’ said Kyla. ‘At least, I drew the picture.’

  ‘It’s excellent!’ said the minister, smiling at her. ‘Can you spare a few more? I’ll show them to the congregation at our other services today and see if anyone will stick them up in their windows. Good for you. A fine community effort. Now why don’t you come along to our youth service? Lots of fun, stories, singing – all that kind of thing.’

  ‘Sorry, no time!’ said Finn, thrusting a few posters into the minister’s hands.

  The others had raced off and were already round the corner and halfway down the road that led to the train station. Finn was chasing them when he became aware of heavy feet running after him.

  ‘You, boy! Stop!’ a man was shouting.

  Finn looked over his shoulder. A couple of men were on his heels, and they didn’t look friendly. Finn put on a burst of speed, but he’d only just rounded the corner when a heavy hand grabbed his shoulder. The man spun him round and pinned him roughly against the wall. Finn’s heart pounded with fright. Both men had bullet-like shaven heads and were dressed in black bomber jackets. They looked tough.

  ‘This is what we think of you and your muck,’ one of them snarled, grabbing the posters that Finn was carrying. Slowly and deliberately he began to tear them up, dropping the pieces into the gutter.

  ‘Stop it! Stop!’ yelled Finn. ‘You can’t do that! We’ve got to save the dolphins, and the birds, and the – the seals!’

  ‘Says who, yer wee criminal?’ said the first man. ‘Someone put you up to this. Animal rights, eh? Animal terrorists, more like. Sabotage against a legitimate business, that’s what this is. There’s laws against it. We’ll get you done. Youth custody, that’s where you’re heading.’

  In the distance, Finn heard Charlie shout, ‘Hey, Finn’s in trouble! Come on!’ Then there was the sound of racing footsteps as the five other children came running up.

  ‘That’s handy,’ one of the men said with a laugh. ‘All of them together. Get the posters off them, Nige.’

  There was a brief scrum as the two men tore the remaining posters out of the hands of the others. Then, as the children watched helplessly, they ripped them all to shreds. Soon, only a mound of torn paper lay on the pavement.

  ‘And don’t think we’ve missed any around town,’ Nigel jeered. ‘We’ve been following you. We’ve taken down every one. You think you’re going to stop the new supermarket, you’ve got another think coming. We’ve got jobs lined up there. Good pay, too. We’re in charge of security. Know what that means? It means we’ve been trained to deal with troublemakers. We know what to do with kiddie criminals, don’t we, Barry?’

  ‘Aye, so we do,’ said the other. ‘Damned anarchists, that’s what you are. Out of order. Come on, Nige.’

  Laughing, they sauntered off.

  Finn’s face was red with rage. He wanted to run after them and pummel their retreating backs with his fists, but before he could move, Charlie and Amir had each grabbed one of his arms to stop him.

  ‘Give it up, Finn,’ said Amir. ‘They’re just too strong.’

  ‘They’re . . . they’re disgusting,’ said Kyla. Her eyes were brimming over with tears. ‘My lovely posters!’

  Dougie had retreated and was hiding in a doorway. Jas saw him peeping out.

  ‘I want to go home, Jas,’ he whispered.

  ‘It’s all right. They’ve gone,’ said Jas. ‘Come on. We’d better go back to the cafe and tell my dad and Mr McFee. I’m so sorry, Finn. We tried.’

  ‘And we’re not giving up!’ Finn said savagely. ‘We’ve got to think of something else, that’s all.’

  All the way along the high street, the posters they had so carefully put up had been ripped down and were lying trampled and torn on the pavement. But as they crossed the road, with the cafe straight in front of them, Kyla let out a cry.

  ‘Look! In the window!’

  The supermarket’s poster had gone from inside the cafe window, and Kyla’s was now in its place.

  The children hurried inside. Professor Jamieson and Mr McFee were sitting at a table with empty cups and plates in front of them, and the cafe owner was leaning against the counter, smiling.

  ‘Here they come!’ he said, watching as they all trooped in. ‘Eco-warriors! Good for you, kids. I’ve heard all about it from these gentlemen, and it’s a right shame, so it is.’

  ‘Dad!’ burst out Jas. ‘Two men were following us and they ripped all the posters down and nearly beat up Finn!’

  ‘Ha,’ said the cafe owner. ‘I know those two. Couple of bullies. Always causing trouble round town. I heard they’d been hired by the new place. They tried to take your poster down from my window, but I sent them packing.’

  ‘What’s that?’ said Mr McFee, starting up from his seat. ‘Where are they? Bullying the kids? I’ll . . .’

  He subsided again as Professor Jamieson put a hand on his sleeve.

  ‘Is everyone OK?’ said the professor, throwing a searching look round the group of children. ‘Did they hurt any of you?’

  ‘No, honestly, Dad,’ said Jas. ‘We’re fine.’

  Her father got to his feet.

  ‘It’s time we got going, anyway,’ he said, shaking the cafe owner’s hand. ‘Thank you. An excellent breakfast.’

  ‘Come on, come on,’ Finn was saying impatiently, leading the way to the car park. ‘We’ve got to get back to Stromhead and make another plan. We must!’

  The others ran after him – all except Jas, who had dropped the sticky tape and had stopped to pick it up. She overheard her father say, ‘Well, Mr McFee, have you ever thought of working in property maintenance? Having been at sea, I guess you’re a practical man. There are some rather urgent matters that need seeing to around the lighthouse.’

  Jas put on a spurt and caught up with Finn.

  ‘I think my dad’s just offered your dad a job,’ she said breathlessly.

  Finn’s jaw dropped, but then he shook his head.

  ‘He can’t have. Nobody ever would.’

  The thought of his father going off to work was too weird to take in. He put it out of his mind, and his brows creased again as he racked his brains, trying to think of another way to stop the balloon release.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Back in Stromhead, the children tumbled out of Professor Jamieson’s tidy little car and Mr McFee’s ramshackle van and went to perch on the harbour wall. Finn couldn’t bear to sit alongside the others. He stood in
front of them, hopping from one foot to the other, too upset to keep still.

  ‘It’s no good,’ Jas said bitterly. ‘They’ve won.’

  ‘They can’t win! They mustn’t!’ burst out Finn.

  ‘I told you what they were like, didn’t I?’ said Kyla.

  Charlie was sitting awkwardly with his arms crossed over his chest.

  ‘What’s that poking up out of your T-shirt?’ Amir asked him.

  Charlie blushed.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘It’s not nothing. It’s paper. Rolled up. Go on. What is it?’

  He leaned over and tried to prise Charlie’s arms off his chest.

  ‘Leave me alone!’ panted Charlie. ‘I told you. It’s nothing.’

  But Jas had recognized a corner of the paper that Charlie was trying to hide.

  ‘It’s the supermarket poster, isn’t it?’ she said accusingly. ‘Of Tom Henderson and the balloons.’

  Charlie gave up trying to hide it. Reluctantly he pulled it from under his T-shirt and let it unroll.

  ‘So what, anyway?’ he blustered. ‘It’s a great picture of him. I’m going to cut round the bit with him in it, and get rid of all the balloons, and stick it up in my bedroom.’

  ‘Traitor,’ muttered Amir, but he was looking enviously at the poster.

  Everyone glanced nervously at Finn, expecting him to explode in anger, but he was staring at the poster of Tom Henderson, frowning with concentration.

  ‘What’s he like?’ he asked Charlie.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Tom Henderson.’

  ‘He’s the best!’ Charlie looked relieved. ‘That goal, against Rangers last season . . .’

  ‘And the one in the Scottish FA cup semi-final two years ago was—’ began Amir.

  ‘Shut up about goals and stuff,’ said Finn. ‘What’s he like?’

  ‘He’s . . . he’s just great,’ said Charlie.

  Finn bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet.

  ‘I think I can see what Finn’s getting at,’ said Jas. ‘If he’s a nice person, I mean, if he—’

  ‘If he cares about anything at all, except for stupid football,’ said Finn.

  ‘Stupid? You think football’s stupid?’ said Charlie hotly.

  Finn ignored him.

  ‘Like I said – if he cares about anything important, he might refuse to do it. Release the balloons, I mean. If we could just get hold of him somehow! Persuade him!’

  ‘We could never do that.’ Amir was shaking his head. ‘Top footballers like him, they have guards and minders and stuff.’

  ‘How’s he getting to Rothiemuir, anyway?’ Finn said urgently.

  ‘He’ll have a smashing car, you bet,’ said Charlie. ‘A stretch limo with all white leather seats and a TV.’

  ‘You think we might be able to stop his car when he’s on the way here, is that it, Finn?’ asked Jas.

  Finn nodded unhappily.

  ‘I was thinking that, but it’s crazy, I know. I’ve got no idea how we’d do it, but it could be our only chance.’

  ‘We don’t even know what his car looks like,’ objected Kyla.

  Amir had been fiddling with his phone. He gave a triumphant ‘Yes!’ and held it out for the others to see.

  ‘Ferrari!’ he said. ‘He’s got three cars, but it says here that this one’s his favourite. The picture even shows the number plate: TH1.’

  ‘I don’t see how it helps,’ said Kyla. ‘How are we going to stop him while he’s driving along a main road? There’ll be loads of other traffic, and he’ll be going really fast in a car like that. It’d be much too dangerous to try and stop him.’

  ‘Hey! I don’t believe it!’ said Amir, who was still staring at his phone.

  ‘What?’ Finn was dancing with impatience. ‘Is it good? What does it say?’

  ‘Wait till you hear this,’ Amir said triumphantly.

  ‘Tell us!’ pleaded Finn.

  ‘He won’t be coming by the main road,’ said Amir. ‘This website’s got all sorts of stuff about him. You won’t believe this, but his granny lives in Tamsy Bay!’

  ‘Tamsy Bay? That’s where my Uncle Jimmy lives!’ said Charlie. ‘He’s got a flat right down near the beach.’

  Finn was thinking furiously.

  ‘The road from Tamsy Bay to Rothiemuir’s really small and winding and it runs right past my house. There’s never any cars on it. I bet he’ll be staying with his granny tonight.’

  ‘You can’t be sure though,’ said Dougie, concerned. ‘He mightn’t like his granny. I don’t like mine much. She’s always trying to kiss me.’

  Everyone ignored him.

  ‘Of course he’ll be staying with her,’ said Finn, slapping his forehead. ‘Think about it. Why would he come all this way to open a stupid supermarket in a little town like Rothiemuir? It can only be to please his granny. The ceremony’s at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. To get here from anywhere else, by plane or something, he’d have to leave really early in the morning.’

  ‘I wouldn’t open that supermarket even for my granny,’ said Kyla. ‘I’d just throw a pot of paint at it if they asked me.’

  ‘Yeah, but no one’s going to ask you, silly,’ said Charlie.

  ‘Finn’s right,’ said Jas. ‘It’s the only thing that makes sense. The question is—’

  ‘How do we get to him and persuade him not to release the balloons?’ interrupted Finn.

  ‘I bet his granny’s got a cat,’ said Dougie, flailing his padlock around on its chain as if he wanted to hit something. ‘Mine’s got three. We could kidnap her cat and say we won’t give it back unless he promises not to release the balloons.’

  Jas rolled her eyes.

  ‘Firstly,’ she said, ticking the points off her fingers, ‘we don’t even know where his granny lives, never mind if she actually has a cat. Secondly, even if she did have one, she’d be really, really upset if it got kidnapped. Thirdly, cruelty to animals—’

  ‘I was just saying,’ said Dougie, offended.

  Finn was still thinking hard.

  ‘You’re right, Jas. We don’t know where Tom Henderson’s granny lives, and even if we did, it’s eight miles to Tamsy Bay. We haven’t got time to get there. Anyway, his minders would never let us near him. So that means . . .’

  ‘It means we’ll have to stop his car on the road somehow,’ Jas finished for him.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Finn. ‘But how?’

  Everyone thought.

  ‘We could scatter nails on the road and he’d get punctures and have to stop to fix them,’ said Charlie.

  ‘That’s criminal damage or something, isn’t it?’ said Amir. ‘And anyway, punctures can take ages. He might be miles further down the road before he even notices.’

  ‘I would lie down in the middle of the road if that’s what it would take to stop him,’ said Finn passionately.

  ‘But he’d run over you,’ said Kyla. ‘Oh please don’t, Finn. That’s so dangerous!’

  ‘I wouldn’t care.’

  ‘It wouldn’t help the dolphins if you were dead,’ Amir said reasonably.

  ‘I could make another poster,’ said Kyla, ‘and hold it up.’

  ‘He’ll be in a Ferrari.’ Charlie’s voice was withering. ‘He’d be past us in flash. A poster would just be a blur.’

  ‘No, but it’s a good idea,’ said Finn eagerly. ‘Only we’d need not just one poster, but lots, spread out, so that he’ll have time to take them in. There’s loads of bends on the road up to my house. He’ll have to slow down.’

  ‘We could paint something on the road,’ said Amir, catching his enthusiasm. ‘Something like “Tom Henderson – please stop and save the dolphins”.’

  ‘That won’t make any sense to him,’ said Jas. ‘We’ve got to make him want to stop. Make him curious.’

  ‘Like “Please stop because we’ve got something to tell you”,’ suggested Dougie.

  ‘He’ll think we’re just fans wanting autographs,’ sai
d Charlie. ‘Mind you, I wouldn’t mind asking for one, if we do get to meet him.’

  ‘We can have a series of messages, one on each bend,’ said Finn. ‘The first one goes, “Tom Henderson, we have something very important to tell you.” The second one, on the next bend, says, “Please stop. This won’t take a minute.” The third one goes, “Lives are at stake.” The fourth one says, “We’re not just football fans wanting your autograph.”’

  ‘That’s no good,’ said Amir. ‘He’ll be insulted if we say we don’t want his autograph.’

  ‘All right – leave that one out,’ said Finn.

  Kyla was looking worried.

  ‘I haven’t got time to draw all those posters,’ she said.

  ‘You won’t have to,’ said Jas. ‘We don’t need pictures, just words, in very big letters. Hey, Dougie, here comes your mum. She’s looking a bit upset. It’s past one already! We’d better go, but come to the lantern room, as soon as you can this afternoon!’

  Kyla, Amir, Charlie and Dougie jumped off the harbour wall and ran off home, leaving only Jas and Finn, who was standing by himself, looking out to sea. Jas went up to him. Finn heard her coming, but didn’t turn round.

  ‘It’s the best we can do, Finn,’ said Jas. ‘It might work.’

  ‘I keep thinking about them out there,’ Finn said hoarsely. ‘All tangled up and eating rubbish, and getting sick, and starving. If those balloons go up, Jas, I’m going to go back out to sea and gather up as many of them as I can myself.’

  ‘Five thousand balloons?’ said Jas. ‘You can’t, Finn! They’ll be all spread out over miles and miles!’

  ‘I know, I know. I just feel so sad for them. And sort of responsible in a way. Those dolphins! I’ve only met them a couple of times, but they’re my friends.’

  ‘You’ve got other friends now, in case you hadn’t noticed,’ said Jas in a small voice.

  He turned to look at her, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

  ‘Can you remember your mum, Jas?’ Finn said eventually.

  She looked at him, startled.

  ‘You lost your mum too,’ she said. ‘I never – I didn’t think . . .’

  ‘Yes, but do you remember her?’ She shook her head.