Dolphin Dreams

by Jules Jones

Patrick shook his head. “No. We know it’s worth going on, and we know we’re not going to get it done tonight. Martin’s right; this is a good time to stop for the night.” He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Besides, we’re not the only ones getting tired. The big torches will need fresh batteries tomorrow, and the rechargeables are still charging up.”

  Too true. He’d bought some of the LED torches that would go for hundreds of hours on a single battery set, but they weren’t bright enough to use as work lamps. The big lanterns weren’t long life, and they were starting to dim slightly. They’d go for a few hours yet, but why keep working when everyone was starting to get tired? He climbed down from the scaffolding. “Right. I suppose I’d better be going back now, before Simon starts worrying. Is there anything you two want me to bring tomorrow?”

  Patrick hesitated, then said, “It would be useful if you could bring enough food for us tomorrow that we didn’t have to go out and hunt for dinner.”

  “He’s not being greedy,” George added. “It’ll save us a lot of time if we don’t have to find a decent shoal of fish before we eat, and if you might have to go back to work soon ...”

  “... the more time you can spend in here the better.” It made a lot of sense. If they could get a decent gap cleared tomorrow, he’d be able to get through and check the passage beyond the fall for any obvious hazards before he had to leave them to work on their own for a few days. “You know that you’re welcome to come back for dinner. A hot meal would do you good after today.” They’d worked hard, and although there was some food left from lunch, it probably wasn’t going to make a full meal for two big men who’d done a lot of heavy labour that afternoon.

  They looked at each other, then shook their heads. “No, thanks,” George said.

  “Though we appreciate the offer,” Patrick added.

  “Well, you know where the house is if you change your minds.” Though he doubted they would. Going into shops as anonymous tourists was one thing. Meeting someone who had an interest in them personally was quite another. “I’d better go back. You keep what’s left of the food; I’ll take any rubbish with me tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.”

  They walked him back to the boat and helped him load up the few things he was taking back. But Patrick kept the book, saying, “We can read this tonight if we don’t have to worry too much about replacing batteries.”

  “Go ahead. I’ve read it before.” It occurred to him that he didn’t even know if they slept in the cave at night, or if they slept in human or dolphin form. But he fancied that tonight they’d be sleeping in the cave; they’d be too tired to want to go somewhere else.

  * * * * *

  Simon wasn’t surprised to see him alone in the house. “I suppose they’re still too shy to meet me?”

  “And tired, I think. They worked hard today.”

  “How did your excavations go?”

  “There isn’t light at the end of the tunnel yet, but there is a tunnel.” He gave Simon a quick summary of the day’s discoveries.

  Simon nodded, but said, “Just be careful. And if the three of you really must go poking about in old quarry caves, for the love of god leave a map for me just in case I have to call out search and rescue. In a sealed envelope if it will make your friends less nervous.”

  He had to admit that it was a sensible idea, and he trusted Simon to respect a sealed envelope. It wouldn’t be opened unless he didn’t come back one night. “I did some checking on the Ordinance Survey maps and the satellite pictures. I’ll run off some copies with the location marked.”

  “Trying to see if the top end of the cave is known?”

  “Yes.” Martin decided to risk something. “It isn’t on the map, but we went and had a look around yesterday. We didn’t find the cave --” He hoped that Simon wouldn’t pick up on the lie. “-- but we did find an old building while we were walking along the path to get there. It’s derelict and boarded up, but it looked salvageable. Any chance of you finding out who it belongs to?”

  Simon stared at him. “When I suggested you find something to buy here, I didn’t expect you to run out and do something about it right away.”

  He hadn’t really been thinking along those lines at all. He’d been worrying about whether the owner was likely to suddenly take an interest in it again. But now that Simon had put the idea in his head ... “It wasn’t deliberate. I just saw it by chance and wondered what it was -- it looked like an old folly or summerhouse from a grand estate, or something like that. But it’s completely derelict, and if nobody does anything about it, it’ll fall apart beyond repair.”

  “You must be mad to even think about taking on something like that. But I suppose if you want a hobby ...” Simon paused, then said, “And if your two lads know anything about building, it would give them something to do and somewhere to park themselves over winter. The paperwork on a renovation job isn’t going to be their problem.”

  “I’ll have to think about it.” And that was no lie. He’d only just met them, and it was stupid to invest all his hopes and dreams quite so solidly at this point. But Simon’s suggestion was a good one. And if the house could be bought, or rented, they’d want to do as much of the work themselves as possible.

  Get a builder in to survey the place and do any work that needed skill, and George and Patrick could probably do a lot of the rest. And if he had control of the property, they’d be a lot safer than if they just hoped the owner had lost all interest in it.

  “You really are seriously thinking about this, aren’t you?” Simon said. “I hope it’s not just because you’re besotted with those two.”

  “No. I wouldn’t have found the place if I hadn’t met them, but you’re right about investing in property -- and this place is certainly ideal as somewhere for me to have as a retreat in between contracts.” He thought about it from that angle. Never mind George and Patrick, he’d like to have somewhere down here on the Dorset coast. Lots of lovely geology to play with, beautiful scenery, and still not that far from civilisation. He knew he was always welcome at Simon’s, but a place of his own would be nice.

  “All right,” Simon said, “see if you can find this place on a map, and I’ll do some digging. Though I’ll warn you that a lot of the Purbeck area is National Trust property. It might not be for sale at any price.”

  “Don’t they sometimes rent places out in order to keep them going as a working property, though?”

  “True. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”

  Of course, he’d already got lucky this week. Very lucky indeed.

  * * * * *

  The next morning there was an unexpected email from Doug saying that he was needed again and an appearance before Monday would be appreciated, even if it meant paying him weekend overtime rates. Doug went on to say that there would be nothing he could usefully do before Friday lunchtime, so no need to arrive any earlier than that, but it would be nice to know if he could be there for the weekend, and sorry to disrupt his plans.

  The other email was from the client he had expected to email, to say that the possible contract was going to be put off for a couple of weeks but was definitely going ahead.

  It was nice to be wanted, but he could see it being difficult to get down here for a while. He told Simon, then went shopping. Bottled water, tinned food and a tin opener, dried goods, some fruit and vegetables that would keep well in a cool cave -- and a small camping stove along with some fuel. He noticed a beginner’s cookbook in the supermarket and added that as well.

  George and Patrick realised something was up as soon as they saw the things in the boat.

  “You’ve got the contract.” George looked unhappy.

  “Different contract to the one I expected. Here.” He started handing up bags and boxes. “The one I was expecting is going to be in a couple of weeks, but there’s another one this weekend.”

  “When do you have to leave?” Patrick asked as he took a box of tinned food.

  “Tonight if I wa
nt to check my flat overnight. Tomorrow at a pinch, but I’ll have to leave very early.”

  “So this is your last day,” George said.

  “Sorry. If the thing this weekend turns out to be a false alarm, I’ll be back in a few days, but otherwise it could be a month or so.” He’d try to get back, but it simply might not be possible, and he didn’t want them hoping and being disappointed. “We can try to get as much done as possible today, but don’t take risks just to get things done faster. I will come back. I promise.”

  They both looked relieved. As he bent to pick up another bag, he just glimpsed Patrick laying a comforting hand on George’s shoulder.

  It had been nearly two months between his first encounter with them and his return to this cave, and all that while they’d not known whether he would come back. Or whether they’d see him again even if he did. They’d gone up to the boat every time they’d seen Simon out in it, and been disappointed each time. Their only consolation would have been Simon talking to them and telling them that Martin would be back soon. At least this time they could be certain he intended to come back to them.

  They finished unpacking the boat and then started moving the food to one of the rooms George and Patrick used for storage. They used sonar; he used a torch. “You’ve set up the second set of batteries to charge?”

  “Just before you arrived,” Patrick said. “That solar-powered charger seems to work fairly well if we have it in the brightest area we can find, although it’s a lot slower than the packaging claims we’d get if we could just leave it in direct sunlight all day.”

  “If we can get the tunnel clear and get a land exit, things like that will be easier.” George picked up the camping stove and examined it. “You’d better show us how to use this safely.”

  “Don’t be extravagant with the fuel,” Martin warned. “There’s enough there for at least a couple of weeks, but you’ll waste some learning how to use it. I’ll use it at lunchtime, so you can watch what I do then.”

  “Where can we buy more?” Patrick asked.

  “Any hardware shop, some supermarkets, pharmacies, petrol stations.” He’d deliberately gone for a stove that used methylated spirit so that it would be easy for them to buy more if they had to. “And camping shops, of course. It’s cheap and safe, but don’t drink it. Meths may be alcohol, but it’s poisonous. And the flame is invisible, so be careful.”

  “There’s a lot to learn,” George said.

  Patrick slapped George on the back. “It’ll be worth it. Hot food after a hard day’s work sounds good.”

  Martin wasn’t convinced that hot food was the only attraction. He’d seen Patrick’s face light up in that “Oooh, shiny!” expression he associated with gadget freaks spotting a new toy. Apparently the shapechanger was just as bad as some humans he’d known. Maybe he should have added a first-aid kit and manual.

  George looked at Martin and smiled. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get too carried away.”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “You did look a bit ‘oh, no, what have I done’ for a second or two. He can have that effect on people when they show him a new toy.” George set the stove down on the jetty. “Might as well leave it here for now. This is probably the best place to use it anyway.”

  Plenty of light to see what they were doing, good ventilation, and a flat solid surface with lots of room. Seemed ideal. “Just don’t kick it into the water. It’ll dry out, but it probably won’t like the sand very much and you’ll have to clean it out.”

  Patrick grinned at him. “Do you know this from experience?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Now, let’s go and look at the rockfall.”

  * * * * *

  They worked steadily, stopping only for a morning cup of tea, and by lunchtime the gap was big enough to crawl through comfortably. George called a halt. “We should eat and rest. We can go through after lunch.”

  Back they went to the main cave, picking up some food from the storage cave on the way. Martin had decided on bacon and eggs for the demonstration. It was easy to cook and was the sort of thing that would make a simple but hearty meal for men who’d been working hard.

  They watched him set the stove up and start cooking, as utterly focused on the task as when they’d been clearing rock. He was reminded of the day he’d first met them, when he’d thought them dolphins but had lectured them on fossils anyway, because they had been interested. New information, new skills -- these were things they valued. It reminded him that there was something they might not know. “Always use this somewhere well ventilated. You could get carbon monoxide poisoning if you use it in an enclosed space.”

  “Like with faulty gas fires,” Patrick said. “So in here’s fine, but don’t take it into one of the back rooms.”

  At least they knew about the hazard; all he’d had to do was link it with something they’d read about in a newspaper. “You might get away with it even in there as long as you didn’t have it on all day, but better safe than sorry.”

  They watched with interest as he fried the bacon. He remembered that they were not just inexperienced cooks, they were inexperienced at being human, and there were things they might not think of. “Bacon spits hot fat if you fry it at a high temperature. Don’t stand right over the stove unless you’ve got clothes on, because it could hurt.”

  They winced, and he knew he’d been right to show them how to use the stove. When the bacon was done, he piled it on the side of the pan to keep warm.

  “How long do eggs keep?” Patrick asked as Martin cracked three eggs into the frying pan.

  As simple a thing as that. They knew that food went off, but didn’t have the detailed knowledge. “Fresh eggs, kept cold ... several weeks. The fresher they are the better, but if you get them straight into that storage cave they should last at least three or four weeks with no problems, and probably longer. It’s fairly cool in there.”

  “What do we need to eat on the same day?” George asked.

  “Meat and fish. Chicken definitely the same day, although red meat should be perfectly safe for a night or two in there. Bacon will last a few days. You’d almost certainly get away with longer, but it’s not worth the risk of food poisoning.”

  Patrick grinned. “We probably won’t bother with fish.”

  He could understand that point of view, but, “If you’ve got any way to bring spare fish back, it means you don’t have to go out to hunt again so quickly.”

  “We’ve done that before,” George said thoughtfully, “but it was just for emergencies. We never had an easy way to cook it before, or a particular reason to want hot food in here.”

  He’d changed them, changed them irrevocably. They’d been more or less content with their life, if a bit lonely, and he’d shown them that they could have some of the things they’d read about. That there were practical reasons to want them. Having human food on hand and the cooking facilities to use it meant that they didn’t have to go out hunting when they had more useful things to be doing with their time.

  Too late to worry about it now, and no point in feeling guilty. They could have had the things he’d given them whenever they’d finally found a reason to trouble themselves to get them, and all he’d done was make it easier for them to do so. “I think this is almost ready.”

  Patrick carved slices of bread from the loaf with a frightening-looking knife that must be one of their beachcombing finds, while George poured out the tea.

  Martin served up the bacon and eggs, and they ate in companionable silence. He suspected that George and Patrick were too hungry to want to talk. They were certainly eating fast enough, although they were taking the time to enjoy the flavour of the food.

  “Another chapter while we let the food go down?” George suggested when they’d finished.

  “Fine.” It might be a while before he had a chance to read to them again.

  * * * * *

  They read, and then they made love. This time there was no dominance play. George kiss
ed him. Patrick took the book out of his hands before it could get crushed, then hugged him and kissed his shoulders and back. They ended up lying on the blanket, him in the middle and them either side of him. George was still kissing him, and Patrick was squeezed up against his back, cock pressed tightly against his arse.

  “Have we got condoms?” Patrick asked. “Don’t want to get up and find them.”

  George let go of Martin for a moment and groped in the pocket of his jeans. “Here. Picked them up when we were getting the food for lunch.”

  “Good. I suppose we should be quick.” Patrick pulled away from him a little, and he heard the sound of a condom packet being torn open.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” George said. He stroked Martin’s face. “Wouldn’t mind taking all afternoon over this, but if you’re going to have to go away for a few weeks, we need to know what we’re doing with the work.”

  He wouldn’t mind taking all day over it, either. Big warm bodies pressing close to him, sex and affection offered without anything but the same asked for in return. But George was right. They wouldn’t be able to resist that passage to the surface above, and he’d be happier knowing that they weren’t going to get themselves killed trying to work under unstable rock. “A quickie it had better be.”

  George kissed him again and undid his jeans. It was an awkward position, but George managed it readily enough, reaching inside to hold his cock. Just holding it for the moment, not trying to wank him, but it still felt very good. Then he felt Patrick take hold of his waistband and tug.

  “Lift up a minute,” Patrick said.

  He had to roll over a little, and George had to let go of his cock, but Patrick managed to get his jeans far enough down for easy access. George got his own jeans partway down, and then they rolled together again, all three of them pressed together flesh to flesh now.

  “’S all right; he had the lube as well,” Patrick mumbled as his cock pushed for entrance.

  Not much foreplay, but it didn’t matter. He pushed back, enjoying the feel of Patrick’s big cock slowly filling him. Patrick was trying to be careful, considerate, but his cock must have got the better of him because he surged forward on the last couple of inches. Martin yelped, mostly in shock, then pushed back to show he was all right.