Shellshock

by Anthony Masters

  ‘Miguel?’ she asked. ‘Did he make it?’

  ‘Him? No chance. A kid probably chucked it away.’

  As they reached the mainland Jan looked back. The sun had sunk below the island, leaving it in darkness. Suddenly she was afraid. She also felt guilty. Jan knew she hadn’t minded Miguel watching. It had been a shock at first, but she didn’t really mind. And she knew why.

  When they had beached the boat, Jan returned to her hotel. Their parting was slightly muted, but they were both very tired. David trekked up the mountain towards his father’s villa. When he got in, there was no sign of Miguel.

  ‘Where is he?’ asked David.

  ‘Grandparents, I think.’ His father seemed distracted. His shorts and tee shirt were covered in fine white dust from his day’s labours.

  ‘He seems to spend more and more time up there,’ said David with some relief.

  But his father did not seem to be listening. ‘What’s that bruise on your face?’ he said sharply.

  David came clean immediately. ‘We had a fight.’

  ‘Oh God!’

  ‘He was spying on me and Jan.’

  ‘Jan? That girl from Faversham. What the hell’s she doing here?’

  David explained and his father grunted non-committally. Then he said vaguely:

  ‘What were you doing?’

  ‘Er – we were just exploring the island.’

  ‘So you fought.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t.’

  ‘Sorry, Dad.’

  ‘At least you have two parents even if they are separated.’

  ‘Sorry, Dad.’

  ‘Don’t keep saying that. Try.’

  ‘Yes, Dad.’

  His father paused and then said, ‘Something unfortunate’s come up.’ Tod cleared his throat and looked away.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s rather macabre. When the taxi was dislodged from the ledge it sank to the bottom. The water in that cove was very deep and up till now it’s been impossible to recover the bodies.’ He paused again uncertainly. ‘Now this bloody salvage company have offered to pull it up. They’ve got a crane and – her parents have given the go-ahead.’

  ‘Will the bodies still be inside?’ asked David baldly.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Miguel –’

  ‘Yes. It’ll be dreadful for him. They’ll nave to be buried, of course. There’s already been a memorial service. Now a burial. We’ve got to support him.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘We’ve got to succeed. All of us. I’m really afraid Miguel’s going to crack.’

  David knew now – but surely he had known before – that his father cared for Miguel very much indeed.

  Jan took the shells back to show her father.

  ‘What’s all this?’

  ‘A necklace of shells we found on the island.’

  He was sitting on the balcony, overlooking the Medas, staring out at the dark sea. ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘David and I.’

  ‘Yes –’ He paused. ‘I wanted to talk to you about that.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I want you to have a friend, and I’m glad you’ve found one. But no monkey business. Understand?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Yes, you do.’

  ‘I’m still a virgin, Dad.’ She felt safe in the lie, knowing that because she had been so direct he would believe her.

  ‘Sorry, love.’ He did.

  ‘Dad, I was wondering, will you get lonely if I’m off with David all the time?’ She was being genuine now.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes. I want to be on my own anyway.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m thinking about the future. Just because your mother walked out all those years ago doesn’t mean to say I’m some old has-been.’

  ‘Is there someone?’ Jan immediately felt tense, but she didn’t really know why.

  ‘Not yet. But there could be.’ He turned and grinned at her.

  ‘You two have got to be friends,’ pronounced Tod at breakfast. Miguel had come wandering in about nine, looking hungry. ‘And by the way, Miguel, you have to tell me when you’re going to spend a night with your grandparents. I worry if you don’t turn up.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Miguel hung his head, but still managed to gnaw at a fresh croissant. Bet this is his second breakfast, thought David.

  ‘Now. What was this fight about?’

  There was a very dead silence.

  ‘OK. If you won’t tell me – I understand. But you have to try and get on. For my sake.’

  Again silence.

  ‘Miguel?’

  ‘I shall try,’ he said woefully, somehow making it all sound David’s fault.

  ‘David?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll try.’

  ‘Good. Let’s all make a fresh start.’

  They both nodded apathetically.

  ‘Now, I have some other things to say. First, Miguel, I haven’t told you this before because I thought it would upset you to think about it in advance. But the Tomos salvage company – the boat with the crane – think they can get the taxi up. Your mother’s – and your uncle’s – bodies might be in it. Then again, they might not.’ He finished the sentence in a rush and then stared at Miguel. But he gave very little away.

  ‘If they are there, they can be buried. Yes?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  There was a long silence during which Miguel sat down and began to spread butter and jam on another croissant. He looked even browner and leaner in his shorts and singlet – almost like a demon David had seen in a book of fairy stories. A wiry little demon with hard diamond eyes and a cruel mouth. David tried to remind himself again about Miguel’s mother. He had lost so much. What would happen if he’d lost his own mother? No wonder Miguel was so weird. It was just that he made it impossible for David to be sorry for him.

  ‘There’s something else,’ said Tod. ‘Something that you, Miguel, might help me with.’

  ‘What is that?’ he said, wolfing down his croissant.

  ‘I came here to be near the legend. The Rock People. The Shell Man. My sculptures. Well, you know all about them. I’ve seen a lot of the effigies but I think you might know the whereabouts of some more.’

  ‘What has he told you?’ Miguel rapped out and David cursed his father for his greed. He wondered if he was using Miguel and to what extent. This was the wrong moment. Absolutely the wrong moment. But then when his father wanted something he was ruthless.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Then why ask me?’

  ‘You don’t have to be rude.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It just so happens that David told me nothing. Nothing at all.’

  ‘That is good.’

  ‘But there is a local rumour that there were Rock People somewhere on the island where the walling-up took place.’

  ‘One of the Medas?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘There are none.’ He glanced at David and away again very quickly, but not before David had seen the threat in his eyes.

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  David almost blurted it all out. How he had told his father and they both knew. He wasn’t afraid of Miguel. Not at all. And yet… He still hesitated.

  Then Miguel said: ‘But I could search. We could search.’

  ‘We?’ asked Tod.

  ‘David and I. We could look for you.’

  ‘That’s good of you.’

  ‘We could make up an expedition. Hunting the Rock People.’ Miguel laughed. ‘It would be good fun. And besides –’

  ‘Yes?’ Tod seemed to be hanging on to his every word.

  ‘I need something else to think about. Don’t I? Especially if they are bringing up my mother’s body.’

  ‘There’s no guarantee –’

  ‘But they might,’ said Miguel flatly. ‘They
might, mightn’t they?’ He turned to David. ‘Shall we make our expedition soon?’

  ‘Well, I was going with Jan to –’

  ‘Like this afternoon?’

  Miguel’s diamond eyes were on him and David felt trapped. But his father was smiling. How can he be so naive, thought David. But of course, only the sculpture mattered. Miguel was up to something. He was too plausible. Again David tried to make allowances for his loss. Again he failed.

  PART FOUR

  Man of Shells

  David met Jan at ten and they decided to go for a walk along the path that led round the little coves. She was carrying the shell necklace.

  ‘It suits you,’ he said. ‘Matches your eyes.’

  But Jan didn’t laugh. Putting it into her pocket she said: ‘Where’s Miguel?’

  ‘He came in at breakfast. Dad gave us a lecture about being friends. Then Dad tried to work on him about the Rock People. He wouldn’t admit anything.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘Not in front of him. Anyway Miguel wants to go to the island with me this afternoon.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Maybe he’ll show me a way down to the cavern.’

  ‘You won’t go by water?’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Can I come?’

  David hesitated. Then he said, ‘Sure.’

  ‘But what about Miguel? Would he object?’ There was a strange urgency to her voice and David searched her face.

  ‘Don’t give him the chance. Just show up.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘He might be difficult. Refuse to let me come.’

  ‘I bet he wouldn’t.’

  ‘All right. Anyway there’s something else I want to do this morning.’ There was that urgency again in her voice, a sharpness that David had not heard before.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘See if they’ve brought that taxi up.’

  ‘That’s a bit macabre, isn’t it?’

  ‘Is it? I’m just curious.’ She brought out the necklace of shells and fingered it. ‘Nothing wrong with healthy curiosity, is there?’

  ‘Are you going to wear that thing?’ asked David rather impatiently.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’ Jan put the necklace back in her pocket.

  ‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ said David weakly. But she was gone.

  ‘Which cove is it?’

  ‘Next one, I think.’

  ‘Come on then.’

  ‘Jan –’

  ‘What’s up now?’

  ‘There might be bodies.’

  ‘We’re only looking from a distance,’ she said with sudden scorn.

  ‘But it’s so –’

  ‘Or are you chicken?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Scared. Like you want me to come with you to the island because you’re scared of Miguel.’ Her voice was uncharacteristically sharp and David stared at her, hurt.

  ‘I’m not scared of him.’

  Jan looked surprised, as if she didn’t understand the reply, as if she had forgotten what she had said. ‘What are you on about?’

  ‘You tired or something?’ David had to account for her strange mood. He’d never known her like this.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Never mind. Are you sure you really want to look at that taxi?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said loudly. ‘Yes, I really want to.’

  They walked on silently, leaving the beach path and walking on to a broken promenade that led round a ruined house that had once been an unsuccessful club. The next bay had long fingers of rocks pointing out to sea. The coast road rose steeply behind them.

  ‘I think it’s the next bay.’

  ‘We’d better hurry.’

  ‘Hurry?’

  Jan did not reply and David wondered why they were communicating so badly. Suddenly he thought of his gran, grumbling and moaning back at St Swithin’s. She seemed a life-time away but he could have done with a chat with her now. He could just imagine her saying, ‘Mark my words, that girl’s a funny one. You only have to look at her and she’ll say the opposite. Just like –’ But David knew that Jan was not behaving normally.

  They were still walking on the broken concrete of the promenade as they rounded the next corner. It was an intensely hot morning and although there were a lot of people on the beach, they seemed to be very distant; even their voices sounded oddly muted.

  The next cove only had a strip of beach and a ring of surrounding rocks. The water was deep and, looking up, David shuddered. The cliff was sheer and he understood how the taxi would have plunged, tumbling over and over, into the dark water. He could imagine it, turning and twisting silently until it hit the water. It was a miracle that Dad had been thrown out alive. Then he saw something by the furthest rocks. It was a black shape, crouched in their lee.

  ‘That’s it,’ she said.

  No one seemed to be around and there was no sign of the salvage ship in the cove. All was totally silent; even the tiny wavelets struck the beach without noise.

  The taxi was not black after all. It was just in shadow. It was a green Seat, battered, with the roof dented and the body covered with weed. Jan was already at the driver’s window which, like the other windows, was shut tight and covered in salt and condensation. She was staring in at the window, one hand trying to rub at it, the other clutching the top of the roof. For a moment her body arched and David had the fleeting, weird feeling that she was trying to open the door – to get in. The impression vanished as she began to scream. Then David saw that she had the necklace in her hand and was beating at the window with it.

  The screaming stopped as he put his arm round her. Dimly, through condensation and salt stain, he saw a figure sitting at the wheel. It was covered in weed, bolt upright and shapeless. But it seemed huge, swollen. In the back seat there was another weed-covered form, bulbous and unidentifiable. Next to it was a man of shells – or what looked like one. It was weird, bizarre, impossible, thought David. At first he had no doubt about the human shape of the shells, yet the more he looked, the more alien they became. But when he closed his eyes and opened them again, the humanity was there. The only sound was the steady dripping of water from somewhere inside the car. There were loose shells everywhere – on the floor, on the seats, in the fronds.

  ‘Come away.’ David dragged at Jan but she was pressed up hard against the dented side of the car. There was a crunching sound and he saw that she was grinding her necklace against the rusting coachwork. ‘You’ll break it.’ He dragged at her again. ‘Come away.’ But she was stuck, limpet-like to the side of the car, staring and straining. David turned to the interior again. He stared at the Shell Man; was he the unearthly groom to the bride? Still exacting revenge? And the bride was Miguel’s mother. Had she struggled? wondered David. Had she fought against her watery death? Or had she passively accepted her fate?

  Then he nearly passed out; it was as if a hand had just come inside his body and twisted his heart. David felt breathless, terrified, unable to move. Behind them there was a rustling and scrabbling of loose rock and for a moment he thought the Shell Man had come alive. The footsteps came round the side of the car and a familiar voice said:

  ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘What are you doing here, Miguel?’ asked Jan, turning round.

  ‘They left me with her. I asked them and they left me with her.’ His voice was slow and without expression.

  ‘You were hiding,’ said David. ‘You’re always hiding.’

  ‘From you. I saw you coming.’

  ‘We’re sorry,’ David replied. ‘We didn’t mean to intrude.’ But privately he was thinking what were the salvage men doing? Leaving a boy alone with his dead mother and uncle, drowned horribly, dragged out of the depths. Were they mad? Where was his father? If he cared so much for Miguel why wasn’t he with him?

  ‘You
were looking,’ said Miguel. ‘You tell me I look. But you were looking.’

  ‘There’s nothing to see,’ replied David quickly. He was shivering in the basking sun. ‘There’s only seaweed and rocks and things.’

  Then, Jan walked quickly across to Miguel who took the shell necklace from her, placing it around her neck. For a moment David felt dizzy. The cove seemed to shudder in the hard morning light. Stunted trees grew by the shore, but they were more like weeds. He saw their reflection in the water, but they were no longer substantial only shadowy animals. Pterodactyls, brontosauruses, mammoths, greenly reflected in topaz wavelets, patiently waiting by a primaeval sea. The rocks seemed to move, become plastic, sensuous, entangled, until the whole landscape was melting. From the heights Rock Giants walked and then reclined on the sand, staring eternally into the timeless sea. He closed his eyes and opened them again. Miguel had drawn Jan towards him. She had both hands on his shoulders.

  ‘Stop it,’ said David.

  They broke away. ‘I’m only trying to comfort him,’ Jan said. She sounded almost mocking.

  ‘Señor –’ The man’s voice broke into David’s mental tumult. He seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

  ‘Yes?’

  He was small, swarthy, with a cap.

  ‘You must go.’

  ‘Miguel –’

  ‘I left him. For a little time. To be with her.’ His English was poor and there were laboured spaces between the words.

  David looked up and, on the cliff-top, saw a solemn procession. A horse and black carriage slowly trotted along the uneven surface. Riding front and back were two black-suited undertakers.

  ‘You must go,’ said the man.

  ‘Miguel?’

  ‘He stay. I look after.’

  ‘I shall see you this afternoon.’ Strangely Miguel’s voice was almost friendly.

  ‘Can I come to the island?’ asked Jan.

  Miguel nodded.

  They hurried back the way they had come and then climbed up the rocks in the next cove and sat down.

  ‘I felt funny back there,’ said David.

  She smiled up at him. It was the old Jan. ‘There was nothing in there,’ she said comfortingly. ‘Just weed and rocks. Like you said.’

  ‘But they were there, weren’t they? Underneath all that.’