by Pam Harvey
Gabby felt much better after a cup of hot chocolate and a slice of jam and bread. It had taken her a good ten minutes to finally calm down Mrs Dalrymple and convince her that it was all just a part of her training. She was making a second cup when Hannah walked in, closely followed by Angus.
‘Well done, Gab,’ Angus said. ‘That was actually a long way.’ He stopped suddenly. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ He disappeared through the dining room door.
Gabby told Hannah about the nightmare she’d just gone through, happily repeating the story for E.D. and Ling five minutes later.
‘Oh, I just remembered,’ Hannah said, pulling a piece of paper from her sock. Before she had time to speak, Angus appeared again at the door to the verandah.
‘I know where those guys climbed out the window,’ he called, beckoning the others over. ‘There’s a basement room down past the back steps, but the window in the door’s been boarded up. It’s like no one wants us to know about it.’
‘First things first, Angus,’ Ling said. ‘What’s this piece of paper you’ve got, Han?’
Hannah unfolded the paper and spread it out on the table in front of them. ‘Kristy had it but she dropped it in the cemetery.’
‘It’s an old newspaper cutting,’ Ling said.
‘Very old,’ E.D. added.
Hannah skimmed the article. ‘The paper’s torn at the bottom and the writing is sort of blurred but it’s about a shipwreck and gold buried on the Isle of Many.’
‘No wonder those kids were out there looking,’ E.D. said, stretching back in his chair. ‘We were on Treasure Island.’
Chapter 7
Sunday, 19 December, afternoon
Hannah looked over at Ling, who sat staring out the window at the dark sea, and nudged Gabby. Gabby looked at her cousin, noticing how pale she was.
‘Let’s go up to our room and read for a while,’ Hannah said.
‘Read?’ Gabby said. ‘Read what?’
‘A book? A magazine? Come on, Gabby.’ Hannah lowered her voice. ‘Ling needs to rest.’
‘Oh.’ Gabby stood up. ‘Yeah. We’ll go and do some reading.’
‘We’re coming, too.’ E.D. stood up.
‘We need to think about what we do next.’ Angus pushed back his chair.
‘But—’ Hannah looked hard at Angus.
‘He’s right, Hannah.’ Ling turned back to the group, reaching out to her friend and taking the newspaper article from her. ‘We need to have a think about this.’
They trailed up the stairs to the girls’ room, Ling reading the article all the way.
‘I don’t know,’ Ling said, sitting on her bed and holding out the bit of newspaper. ‘It’s hard to read. If we had the whole article we might understand a bit more. Look at the last bit.
‘“Four golden ingots and four other pieces of an unknown nature retrieved at great but disastrous cost from the charred coach were hidden, it is said, by bushrangers of a most undesirable constitution. The gold, carrying its terrible secret, lies undisturbed since the fate of the despicable rogues…” And then the paper’s torn.’
E.D. looked at the article. ‘What does all that mean? They sure wrote funny in these old newspapers.’
‘I like it,’ said Hannah.
‘You would,’ said E.D.
‘Hey, check this bit out. “The Collaratta Curse though will bring misfortune and hardship to anyone seeking the gold. Bad luck will follow them until…”’
‘Until what?’
‘That’s it, that’s where it’s torn; like the first paragraph.’
‘There’s a date at the top,’ interrupted Ling. ‘22 December 1853. And the name of the newspaper: The Intrepid Times.’
‘If we had access to the internet,’ Hannah said, ‘we could look it up. Wait on, I’ll go and check.’ She darted out the door and was back almost immediately. ‘Mrs Dalrymple says that the cottage only has dial up but there’s some problem with it. In other words, it’s hopeless to try from here. She doesn’t know anyone else who has internet access.’
‘There must be someone!’ Gabby said in surprise. ‘Everyone has a computer these days.’
‘Not in Intrepid Point,’ said Angus.
‘I know a quicker way.’ Hannah rummaged in her bed and pulled out her phone. ‘I’ll ring my brother Sean. He can do the research and then let us know.’
‘How?’ Gabby looked at Hannah who was busy dialling.
‘Well, he can’t email us. I guess he can fax it through.’ Hannah paused, listening. ‘Hello?’
‘Don’t get him to fax it here,’ said Angus. ‘The other guys might get hold of it.’
‘Fax it to this number.’ E.D. dug in his pocket and pulled out the magnet he’d got from the fish and chip shop. ‘Numero del facsimile.’ He gave the magnet to Hannah.
‘…and then send it to this number, right?’ Hannah read from the magnet, went ‘yes’ and ‘uh ha’ and then finished the call. ‘He’s onto it.’
‘Well,’ E.D. said, jumping up, ‘let’s go and do some more exploring. It’s stopped raining. I haven’t even seen the lighthouse yet.’
‘Good idea, E.D.’ Hannah got up too.
There was a knock on the door and then it opened.
‘Hello, everyone,’ Mrs Dalrymple beamed, striding in. ‘Ling, your mother rang earlier and sends her love to everyone. I told her you were all very busy, even with the cold weather.’ She paused, frowning at Gabby. ‘I didn’t mention that you’d been training, Gabby.’
‘Thanks, Mrs D,’ Gabby said, smiling.
‘Now, I’ve got some super games downstairs—’
‘Thanks, Aunt Susie. We’re just going to head out for a walk again.’
‘Oh, really? Are you sure? Well, make sure you’ve all got coats on. It’s looking rather chilly out there at the moment.’
Outside, the sky was blue again but the wind was cool. Angus flipped up the hood of his windcheater. ‘Some holiday weather,’ he grumbled.
‘Funny, isn’t it,’ said Ling, softly. ‘It’s like the sea doesn’t want it to be sunny.’
The ocean was dark and marked with white caps. To Hannah it looked as if it was constantly churning, something that wouldn’t be still. She tore her eyes away and pointed towards the cliffs. ‘To the lighthouse!’
It wasn’t far to the path that wound up the side of the cliff but the wind was so ferocious it seemed to be pushing them back. E.D. took the lead, using his bigger body to block the wind for the others. They followed him with their heads down, sprinkled by the fine cold spray of whipped waves. The further they climbed, the smaller the beach became and the quieter the sounds of the crashing waves.
‘Made it,’ said E.D. finally. He stopped in the middle of the path and the others stood next to him.
The lighthouse reared up in front of them. Its worn sides, which had once been a gleaming white, were now patchy with age and weather. They could just see the windowed area of the light glinting in the sun. At the base, a closed wooden door faced them, solid and uninviting. Small open windows dotted the tower, spiralling up towards the top.
‘I don’t know about this,’ Gabby said suddenly. ‘It doesn’t feel right.’
‘How’s it meant to feel?’ asked E.D., curiously.
‘I don’t know,’ said Gabby crossly. ‘Just not like this.’
‘Gabby’s right,’ said Ling. ‘It feels strange up here.’
‘That’s just because we’re so far up the cliff face,’ said Hannah practically. ‘You haven’t been up here before. Do you think someone will be inside?’
‘No.’ E.D. went to the door and tried the handle. ‘Locked. Told you.’
‘Try knocking,’ Gabby suggested.
‘You reckon someone’s going to hear us knock?’ E.D. looked at her.
‘Well, try the door bell.’
‘Gab,’ said Hannah, ‘lighthouses don’t have door bells.’
‘Listen!’ said Ling, suddenly. ‘What’s that?’
Ove
r the soft noises of the faraway sea and the faint cries of circling seagulls, another sound could be heard. It was a soft barking, a bit like a dog, but higher.
‘What is it?’ Gabby whispered.
‘Down there.’ Angus pointed.
Below them, in the choppy water, something was swimming. It was a dark shape, darker than the sea, moving back and forth near the jetty. Gabby gasped. ‘It’s a shark! The boat man was wrong; there are sharks in the bay!’
‘I don’t think it’s a shark,’ said E.D., ‘but there’s only one way to find out.’ He shouldered his way past the others and started running down the path.
The others followed, running wildly down the slippery track. Hannah dropped back, unsure of her footing. Gabby caught up with E.D. ‘Why don’t you think it’s a shark?’ she yelled at him as they ran.
‘I thought I could see flippers.’
‘Flippers? It’s a man, then?’
‘Not rubber flippers.’ E.D. was beginning to pant. He snuck a look at Gabby, noticing that she wasn’t anywhere near panting. ‘Flipper flippers.’
Gabby ran without speaking for a few seconds. ‘Flipper flippers?’
‘Just look.’
They’d reached the end of the path. The sand on the beach slowed them down but it was much easier now to see what the shape was. A large round head with two big eyes appeared above the water and ducked under again.
‘A seal!’ Gabby said. She ran easily across the sand, leaving E.D. behind.
Now that she was level with it, it was easy to see that the seal was distressed and swimming haphazardly around the jetty. Gabby stepped onto the wood, and walked past the boat moorings, keeping an eye on the animal. She reached the end of the jetty and knelt down. Only then could she see what was worrying the seal.
Caught in a dirty piece of fishing net, a young seal pup lay tangled against the jetty post. It was barking—the noise they had heard from the cliff—and when it saw Gabby, the barking became higher pitched and the little seal struggled harder.
‘Don’t move,’ said Gabby softly to it. ‘You’ll only hurt yourself.’ She looked back along the wooden planks for the hire boat man but his tin shed was locked. E.D. ran up to her, making loud clunking noises on the wooden slats.
‘Shhh,’ said Gabby. She leaned back over towards the seal.
Within minutes, the others had caught up. Hannah arrived last, puffing and red in the face. ‘Oh,’ she said, when she could breathe again. ‘The poor thing.’
‘Can we free it?’ Ling looked as if she was going to be sick. The run had taken a lot out of her and the sight of the trapped seal was making her feel ill.
Before anyone could answer, E.D. started taking off his clothes. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled something out, placing it between his teeth before wrenching his jeans off. Hannah turned even redder. E.D. gave her an odd grin, not letting go of whatever it was in his mouth, and lowered himself off the end of the ramp into the sea.
Angus and Ling knelt beside Gabby and watched as E.D. swam to the seal. At the sight of him, the little animal tried to twist free but the net was holding fast. E.D. took the object out of his mouth.
‘A pocket knife. Good on ya, E.D.’ Angus spoke softly but E.D. heard. He raised a finger in acknowledgement and went to work on the netting.
It took a long time—a long time to spend crouched on the hard wooden planks; an even longer time in the cold water. E.D. cut carefully, easing the net away from the warm skin of the seal before cutting upwards to avoid nicking the animal. The water was beginning to freeze his fingers, and he was finding it difficult to keep his body balanced, but he didn’t stop. Next to him, swimming less frantically now, the mother seal watched, with her large head sticking out of the sea. The little pup stopped its barking. It was as if it knew that E.D. was trying to help.
Finally, the ropes gave way, and the baby seal was free. E.D. moved away from it slowly, pulling the net with him. He stayed treading water as the seal gave a flip of its tail. It sank just below the surface, moving slowly, until it sighted its mother. Then it gave a small splash and was gone. The mother seal stayed a moment longer. E.D. saw her looking at him.
‘No worries,’ he said. ‘Any time.’
There was a large splash and both seals disappeared into deeper water.
Chapter 8
Sunday, 19 December, evening
They went back to Spray Cottage without speaking. Angus walked next to E.D., rubbing his shoulders. Despite putting his clothes back on the moment he’d got out of the water, E.D. was shivering. Gabby walked on his other side, taking small peeks at him. She couldn’t stop thinking of how patiently he’d worked on the netting until the seal was free, and how strong he was to tread water all that time.
As they walked into the foyer, Mrs Dalrymple called to them. ‘Hello. A message for you from Angelo at the fish and chip shop. He says there’s a fax for you.’ She eyed E.D.’s wet hair. ‘Bit cold for a swim, dear?’
‘It was only cold after I got out,’ E.D. said through chattering teeth.
‘Oh.’ Mrs Dalrymple looked at him, puzzled. ‘Are you training too?’ E.D. nodded.
‘Go and have a shower, E.D.,’ Angus said. ‘Then we’ll go down to the fish and chip shop.’
‘Do you mind if I don’t come with you?’ Ling stood with her arms folded, as if she was hugging herself. ‘I think I’ll just go and rest until dinner. I sort of don’t feel well.’
‘Ling, you haven’t been well since we got here.’ Gabby put her arm around her cousin. ‘I think we’d better tell Mrs Dalrymple.’
‘No.’ Ling shook her head vigorously. ‘I’m not sick. I mean, I’m not sick in my body. It’s just…’ She looked at Angus.
‘It’s something else, isn’t it?’
Ling nodded.
‘Well, okay, then.’ Gabby steered Ling towards the stairs. ‘We’ll go up to our room and I’ll look after you.’
‘I’ll only be a minute and I’ll be back down,’ E.D. said to Angus. He sprinted up the stairs ahead of the girls.
Angus and Hannah waited on the front steps. The wind was still ferocious but they were sheltered where they sat. Hannah looked up at the lighthouse. Against the fading light, it looked like a tall rock, dark and forbidding. ‘We didn’t get much of a go at the lighthouse,’ she said.
‘We’ll go back there another time,’ Angus said. ‘Maybe we can get in to have a proper look.’
‘Ready.’ E.D. suddenly appeared behind them. His face was bright red, as if he had run a mini-marathon. He saw them staring. ‘Hot shower. I mean, really hot. Now I know what a lobster feels like.’
‘Come on, then, before we miss out on dinner.’ Angus stood up and started the short walk into town.
The fish and chip shop was lit with an array of coloured lighting. A small Christmas tree was in the window, decorated with tiny flashing bulbs. When E.D. pushed the door open, a bell tinkled merrily. Mira stood behind the counter, swiftly wrapping up some steaming chips for a customer. She glanced at E.D., frowned and dumped the parcel into the waiting man’s hand. Then she walked angrily through the door into the kitchen.
‘Hello, kids.’ Angelo turned from the cookers, his forehead beaded with perspiration.
‘Ciao,’ said E.D.
‘Oh,’ said Angelo, wiping his hands on his striped apron. ‘You had a fax today.’ He nodded towards the fax machine on the far corner of the counter. ‘It was addressed to Hannah Williams at Sprung Cottage but I knew what it meant.’
‘It’s from my brother,’ Hannah explained. She put her hand behind her back and crossed her fingers. ‘He wanted me to help him write his letter to Santa. I didn’t get time to help him before we left.’
‘Well, that’s nice, helping the bambino. You are a good sister. He is a lucky brother.’ Angelo gave Hannah a broad smile that made her turn red. ‘I will go and get the paper. Mira has taken it.’ He disappeared through the door.
‘Letter to Santa?’ E.D. laughed at Hannah
. ‘Couldn’t you think of anything better than that?’
‘Well, I could hardly say homework, could I? It’s the holidays!’
‘It’s okay, Han,’ said Angus. ‘Shut up, E.D.’
‘I’m only thinking of the bambino and what a nice sister he has.’ E.D. ducked as Hannah took a swipe at him.
They stood waiting for what seemed like an age. The cookers sizzled and the Christmas lights winked on and off but still Angelo didn’t appear. Hannah heard loud talking in the kitchen—talking that quickly turned into shouting. She looked at Angus and E.D. Angus shrugged but E.D. walked to the counter and started listening intently. The heated conversation seemed to be in Italian.
Suddenly, Mira burst into the café, Angelo following her closely. ‘You kids,’ she said loudly, shaking her finger at them. ‘You all need to keep away from the island, eh? Too sad. It’s bad out there, a bad place. It is cursed!’
‘Mira,’ said Angelo gently, ‘they’re only children. They aren’t doing anything wrong.’
Mira turned to him, but instead of the torrent of words Hannah was expecting, she started coughing. Angelo rubbed her back, murmuring comforting words to his wife. He looked up at E.D. and shook his head. ‘Mira is not well,’ he said. ‘She has never been well. Not since…’ A renewed burst of coughing interrupted his speech. Angelo kept rubbing until Mira had the cough under control and could straighten up again.
She stared at them. Hannah looked hard at the woman’s red face and streaming eyes and had the sudden thought that Mira wasn’t much older than her mum. Her hair was still black and curly, but Mira’s sad face with its hollow eyes made her seem a lot older. ‘Are you alright?’ Hannah asked.
Mira nodded. ‘Yes.’ She stepped away from Angelo. ‘I am okay, now. Angelo, you need to go and deliver Mrs Chapman’s order. She lives two doors up,’ she explained to the others, ‘but she is old and frail. Angelo delivers her fish and chips every Sunday.’
‘If you are sure, my love.’ Angelo paused but Mira waved her hand at him. ‘I will be straight back.’ He picked up a parcel of chips and went to the door. ‘Straight back.’ The bell tinkled as he went outside.