by Pam Harvey
To Bronte, Eliza and Jo.
MP
To Mum, because she has always believed in me.
PH
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Down she goes: Famous Shipwrecks
Boo! Famous Ghosts
Acknowledgments
About The Author
By Michael Panckridge
Copyright
About The Publisher
Chapter 1
22 December, 1974
Thomas looked at his determined sister and drew the oar back further. The swirling water around him, so dark and deep, horrified him. The thought of plunging into its cold depths, of having the water close in over his head, nearly made him scream. I have to keep going, he thought desperately. If I keep rowing, the boat will stay afloat and we won’t fall in.
‘Row harder, you two,’ Ronald Jamison bellowed, his harsh voice barely audible above the noise of the storm crashing around them.
Thomas raised his oar above the swell of the water. His arms were aching. The wind and rain tossed the small wooden boat. They had never made the journey so late and they had always returned empty-handed. He glanced at the four small gold bricks lying on rough sacks at the bottom of the boat. Not this time.
Thomas dragged the oar back again, barely finding the strength to lift it above the waves. Suddenly a wall of water loomed up from the sea like a giant’s mouth. The wave crashed onto the deck of the boat, ripping the oar from his hands and casting it into the sea. The tiny craft lurched violently, taking on more water. Opposite Thomas, Sebastian cowered and shook on his seat.
‘Bail!’ Ronald screamed, hurling three small buckets at the children. Thomas and his sister started scooping water, which was now up to their knees, and throwing it overboard.
‘Come on, Sebastian,’ Beth cried. ‘You’ve got to help!’
Sebastian stared at her, frozen to the seat, too frightened to speak. The wind howled over their heads and the sea roared in fury, tossing the little boat mercilessly like a cork.
‘What’s wrong with Sebastian?’ Beth shouted at her brother. ‘Why doesn’t he help?’ She glanced back at Ronald Jamison. Even he had left his seat and was busily bailing water out at the other end of the boat.
Thomas knew how Sebastian was feeling—fear was threatening to overcome him as well. He leaned forward and shook the small boy hard. ‘Come on, Sebastian,’ Thomas yelled. ‘Help us bail!’
‘Look out!’ Beth shrieked as another wave crashed onto the boat. Beth and Thomas were buffeted to the deck. Gasping for air and spitting out freezing sea water, she struggled to her knees. ‘It’s going to sink,’ she screamed at the man. ‘We’re going down and it’s all your fault!’
Ronald Jamison didn’t look at her, but he knew—it was his fault. He was the one who had dragged the children out to the island each day to search for the gold that was buried there. For six months he had promised them riches beyond their imagining, and now the day had come.
Thomas looked at the gold again, inches from his face, as the freezing water in the bottom of the boat splashed over his head. He suddenly remembered Sebastian’s words as they left the island. ‘That gold is cursed,’ the little boy had whispered, his face stricken with fear. ‘It brings bad luck.’
Thomas struggled to his feet. ‘The gold is weighing the boat down,’ he yelled at Ronald, picking up one of the four heavy ingots.
‘Put that down, Thomas!’ roared Ronald, his thin hair plastered across his face. He stood as well and the boat leered again dangerously. ‘The gold is not making the boat sink.’
‘Where’s Sebastian?’ screamed Beth. Thomas turned and stared at the empty seat where the little boy had been sitting.
‘Sit down and shut up, both of you!’ cried Ronald, stumbling forward to grab the gold from Thomas’ hand. He reached an arm out towards Thomas just as the boy hurled the golden brick into the sea.
‘The gold!’ Ronald yelled, his face twisted in anger. He flung himself at the boy, but as his hands reached for Thomas’s neck, the boat lurched yet again, sending the man crashing into Beth.
As if in a dream, Thomas stared in horror as his sister teetered near the edge of the boat then slowly fell backwards into the water. Their eyes met momentarily and then she was gone.
Without thinking, Thomas put his head down and charged like a bull at Ronald. The air burst from the man’s lungs as he stumbled backwards across the boat. Suddenly he was clutching at air. With his arms whirling, Ronald Jamison splashed into the sea.
‘Beth!’ Thomas screamed, leaning out over the edge of the boat, his arms reaching into the sea. The ocean yawned and surged, but Thomas could see nothing through the driving rain. He leaned further towards the water, keeping his body pressed closely to the side of the boat. I should go in after her, he thought. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He knew for certain that if he jumped in after her he would drown.
Hidden in the dark water, Ronald flailed about, clawing for the side of the boat. Beside him, he felt the body of one of the children. Was it Sebastian or the girl? He felt himself pulled down by an enormous swell that was dragging and sucking thousands of megalitres of water from underneath him. He gulped a frantic breath, taking in more sea water as the drag pulled him below the surface. A hand latched onto his shirt but he wrenched it off and pushed it away. The gold! Ronald thought. I have to get back to the boat.
Thunder crashed and the sea roared. Over the top of it all, Thomas heard his name being called by a faint voice somewhere to the left of the boat.
‘Beth!’ he cried, staring into the surging grey water. Driving rain and sea spray swirled around the little boat making it almost impossible for him to see further than his own arms.
That gold is cursed.
Thomas turned to look at the rest of the golden bricks. With trembling hands, he grabbed one of the gold pieces and heaved it out into the water.
‘Beth!’ he cried again, desperately scanning the raging sea. He leaned over the edge of the boat, moving his arms through the icy water. Suddenly a hand locked onto his. Then the hand was gone as if it had been pulled away from him. He groped frantically, both arms in the water, and found the hand again. With as much strength as he could, he hauled upwards until someone rose out of the sea and gripped the side of the boat.
Another wave crashed on top of them and Thomas was flung against the boat’s side, his head smacking into the woodwork. But he had held on long enough.
Long minutes passed as each lay there; Thomas, unconscious and bleeding, unaware of the other person sprawled across the seat at the rear of the boat. Slowly, the enormous swell of the sea abated. The boat drifted aimlessly as the biting rain eased to a drizzle and then to a fine spray of mist. The howling wind gently subsided.
Thomas moaned and slowly opened his eyes. Suddenly remembering what had happened, he sat up.
‘Beth?’ he called, turning around.
But it wasn’t Beth who lay sprawled at the foot of the boat. It was Ronald Jamison. He stared at Thomas, his arms wrapped protectively over the remaining gold bricks.
‘Where’s Beth?’ Thomas cried, trying to stand up. His head ached as he gazed out at the water. For a moment he thought he must have had a nightmare.
But for a few white caps, the sea was calm and almost flat. There was no sign of any life in the darkness.
‘We found the gold, Thomas,’ Ronald whispered, sitting up and gazing at the boy. A few stars had come out in the clearing sky and Thomas could see the mad look in his guardian’s eyes.
‘But we lost Beth and Sebastian!’ Thomas cried. ‘That gold is cursed!’ He knelt over the edge of the boat and swung his arms through the water again, desperate to find the hand he knew had been his sister’s—the first hand he’d felt. I had her, thought Thomas, and I let her go. I let her go!
The water yielded nothing.
Thomas slumped to the floor of the boat, and lay in the icy water, sobbing. Hugging the gold bricks to his chest, Ronald Jamison watched the shivering boy.
Suddenly, a shaft of bright yellow light lit up the boat.
‘We’re on our way!’ a voice boomed through a loud speaker. In the distance the faint rumble of an outboard motor could be heard.
Thomas sat up. ‘They might be able to find the others,’ he shouted at the man. ‘They might find Beth!’ He waved his arms at the approaching boat. ‘My sister! She’s in the water!’ He turned to the man. ‘You tell them!’
Ronald Jamison sat still, his arms wrapped around the sack concealing the gold, and said nothing.
‘Tell them!’ yelled Thomas, coming over to Ronald. ‘Before it’s too late.’ The man just stared.
Thomas leapt towards him, knocking Ronald so that the gold bricks fell to the deck. Thomas seized one, and started to haul it overboard.
‘No!’ yelled Ronald, hitting Thomas and starting his head bleeding again.
‘It’s cursed!’ screamed the boy. He punched the man in the stomach, grabbed the remaining brick and sent it over the side.
The boy and the man stared at each other until the Intrepid Point Surf Patrol boat’s yellow light swept over them. The rescue boat drew alongside and cut its engines. ‘We only found two of them,’ Thomas heard someone say. ‘Tony’s going in now, but bring out more divers. And hurry!’
Thomas rested his head gently on his arms and closed his eyes; empty, hurting and totally alone.
A nine-year-old girl rocked herself slowly on an old chair in the basement room of Spray Cottage. ‘They’ll be back soon,’ she whispered to herself. ‘They’ll be back soon.’
She stared out of the rain-spattered window into the blackness beyond, nervously twisting her black, curly hair. Beth. Thomas. Sebastian. She wrote the three names in her diary.
‘They’ll be back.’
Chapter 2
Friday, 17 December, late evening
‘Check it out,’ said E.D., giving a low whistle and pushing his sunglasses up onto his head.
Against the dark, storm-ridden sky, the guesthouse looked large and gloomy.
‘This is it, then?’ said Gabby as the car stopped and Ling’s parents got out.
‘Yes, this is the place.’ Ling looked at her cousin. ‘Spray Cottage, Intrepid Point. Mum’s booked us into two rooms.’
Gabby looked a bit disappointed. ‘So we’re sharing?’
‘Yeah,’ said E.D., grinning. ‘I’m sharing with you.’
Gabby breathed in quickly and was about to say something when Angus spoke. ‘Cut it out, E.D. We might all be friends but it’s boys in one room, girls in the other. Right, Ling?’
‘Of course.’ Ling smiled at him. ‘Two boys in one room, three girls in the other!’
‘It doesn’t look like a cottage to me,’ Hannah said, giving E.D. a shove and climbing out of the car. ‘It’s enormous.’
The others came to stand beside her, staring up at the house in front of them. The foyer gave out a warm glow, and lights showed in the windows of a couple of rooms on the second floor, but the rest of the place was in darkness. Hannah shuddered involuntarily. I know it’s nearly midnight, she thought, but I didn’t think it would look so…big and dark.
‘The original section was a cottage, but when the gold rush was on and the town’s port was busy, someone bought the cottage and built onto it. Now it’s got eighteen rooms.’ Ling turned to the car and opened the back, taking out bags and passing them to her friends.
‘And when we get inside you’re going to tell us what we’re here for.’ Angus took a couple of bags and looked hard at Ling.
‘Apart from swimming and catching the waves and lying around and eating and forgetting about school and stuff.’ E.D. pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes.
‘E.D.,’ said Hannah, ‘what’s with the glasses? It’s pitch dark out here.’
‘We’re at the beach, Han. You need sunnies at the beach.’
Ling dropped the last two bags at E.D.’s feet. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when we’ve got our rooms organised.’
They carried their bags into the foyer. E.D. tripped over his before he noticed them and then walked into the closed door as it swung shut behind the others. Angus took the sunglasses off his friend’s head and shoved them in his pocket.
‘Hey,’ said E.D., ‘who turned the lights on?’
When they were inside, Mr and Mrs Hunter, Ling’s parents, handed Ling the keys. ‘Now, your rooms are at one end of the second floor and we’re at the other,’ said Ling’s mum. ‘So we’re close enough to know what’s going on with you bunch of thirteen year olds but far enough away to not be breathing down your necks.’
‘Until tomorrow?’ Ling said. ‘Yes, until tomorrow. And then we’ll be going back home. I’m sorry about having to go back to work but I have an urgent case to attend to.’ Mrs Hunter smiled ruefully. ‘That’s the trouble with being a lawyer. But we’re just a phone call away. Your Aunt Susie is being very generous offering to let you guys stay here for a couple of days without us. You be good, because she has the whole guesthouse to run.’
Ling laughed. ‘Don’t you worry about us, Mum. We’ll be fine. I reckon we’ll be on the beach most of the time.’
‘I hope the weather improves,’ said Mrs Hunter. ‘It looks very stormy.’
As she spoke, the wind outside increased, rattling the front door and causing the bushes near the windows to scrape the glass.
‘It’s summer,’ said Gabby. ‘Of course the weather will improve.’
‘It had better do it quickly,’ muttered Hannah to Angus as they followed Ling’s parents to the second floor. ‘So much for a beach holiday.’
‘Go to bed, now,’ said Mrs Hunter as she turned to go to her room. ‘It’s been a long drive and it’s very late. Don’t make too much noise; there may be other guests in the house.’
As Ling said goodnight to her parents, E.D. walked along the corridor to the nearest door and put his ear to it.
‘E.D.!’ hissed Gabby. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Listening,’ said E.D., innocently.
‘You don’t need to be that close,’ said Angus, pulling E.D. away. ‘Whoever’s in there is noisy enough.’
Music filtered out under the door, and inside the room someone laughed loudly.
‘Our rooms are further down here,’ said Ling, walking away. ‘I specifically asked for this one.’ She stopped in front of the end room. ‘Number 8.’ Instead of opening the door, she turned to the others. ‘This is the room we had last time I was here.’
Gabby looked at her expectantly. ‘This room has something to do with why you’ve got us all here, hasn’t it?’
Ling didn’t answer. She stared at her friends in front of her and was suddenly lost for words.
‘Well,’ said Hannah, stepping forward to take the key from Ling. ‘How about we get rid of our bags, get some midnight snacks and meet back in Room 8 in ten minutes? Then Ling can stop keeping us in suspense and tell us the whole story.’ She fiddled with the lock and swung the door open. ‘See you back here, you two.’
‘Come on, E.D.,’ said Angus. ‘Our room’s over here. You’ve got the chips in your bag.’
E.D. followed Angus and watched as he opened the door to their room. ‘I had the chips in my bag
.’
‘No, you’ve got the chips in your bag. Your mum put them there before we left.’
‘That was five hours ago, mate.’ E.D. stepped into the room and flung his bag on the bed nearest the window. ‘I ate them at the two-hour mark.’
Minus the chips, the boys knocked on the door of Room 8 ten minutes later. Hannah opened it, looking disappointedly at their empty hands. Angus shrugged and pointed to E.D.’s stomach. Hannah rolled her eyes.
The others couldn’t understand how E.D. could eat so much! He was always hungry and that was very annoying for those who wanted midnight snacks.
Hannah shut the door firmly behind them and sat on her bed.
Number 8 was larger than the boys’ room. Angus sat on a comfortable armchair and looked around. There was space for three beds, a couch, two chairs and a small table. The room was a corner one, and there were large windows above the beds. You could fit more beds in here, thought Angus. It’s as large as a hospital ward.
Ling sat on her bed, holding back the curtain and looking out the window. ‘It’s a great view from here,’ she said. ‘When it’s light you can see the beach and the heads. There’s an old lighthouse at the point.’
‘A lighthouse?’ said Hannah. ‘I thought they didn’t use them any more.’
‘Lighthouses are fully automated these days,’ said E.D. ‘They don’t use lighthouse keepers any more.’ He settled back on Gabby’s bed. ‘So, here we are. Now we need to know why we’re here.’ He turned to look at Ling.
Ling let the curtain drop. Everyone was looking at her. She could hear faint music from the room up the corridor but suddenly it stopped. Room 8 became so quiet that she could hear the whooshing of waves breaking on the beach.
‘I came here last summer with Mum and Dad,’ she said quietly. Then she stopped.
‘I knew that,’ said Gabby, nodding. ‘You sent me a postcard of that island in the cove.’
‘The Isle of Many.’ Ling looked at her cousin. ‘Where they buried the dead from shipwrecks.’
Hannah sat up straight. ‘Keep going.’