Cross Tides

by Lorraine Orman

  I can almost see her there. Lizzie, kneeling beside Matthew’s mutilated body, her face grey in the dawn light seeping into the cave. Lizzie fumbling to untie the cords and pull back the flax mat wrapped round him. Lizzie kissing his cold lips and slipping the prayer book into his stiff fingers.

  ‘I wonder who it is?’ Daniel says in a low voice. ‘It’s terribly old.’

  ‘It’s Matthew,’ I say matter-of-factly.

  Daniel says something to me in a surprised voice but I can’t hear any words, just a pounding noise in my ears that gets louder and louder. The cave begins spinning round me like a huge, black merry-go-round — then I’m aware of nothing more.

  CHAPTER 15

  I open my eyes and the first thing I see is Daniel’s face, very close, frowning down at me. The torchlight is angled upwards and his features look a bit like a horror mask. ‘Hey,’ he says, the frown disappearing. ‘Welcome back.’

  ‘Uh … what happened?’

  ‘You fainted. I guess.’

  I’m lying with my head on his lap and his jacket covering the top half of my body. Apart from freezing feet and the hard bulk of the life vest round my chest I’m remarkably comfortable. The torch is on the ground nearby, its beam pointing towards us. There’s a kind of rushing moaning noise not too far away, and I realise it’s the wind. The storm is still raging outside the cave. ‘Sorry,’ I croak. ‘I’m not usually into fainting.’

  ‘I’ll forgive you this time. How d’you feel?’

  ‘Okay. Just terribly tired.’

  ‘D’you reckon you can sit up a bit and lean against me? That way we can both get under the jacket and keep each other warm.’

  It sounds like a good idea. I struggle out of the life vest and instantly feel better. Once we’re settled in a sitting position, leaning against a rock, and Daniel’s arm is round my shoulder and the jacket is spread over both of us, I feel even better. I snuggle into him, drawing warmth and strength from his body.

  ‘Comfortable?’ he says after a minute.

  ‘Great.’

  ‘Bel …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The skeleton.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Umm … I don’t want to sound morbid, but don’t you find it a bit weird to be sitting here all cosy and comfortable with a skeleton only a couple of metres away?’

  ‘Yeah. I suppose so.’ Something occurs to me. ‘Hey, you don’t think I fainted because I was frightened of the skeleton, do you?’

  He shakes his head. ‘No way.’

  ‘It was the shock, that’s all. As well as being half dead with exhaustion and cold.’

  ‘It’s okay. I believe you, honestly.’ There’s laughter in his voice. ‘Hey, Bel, before you fainted you gave the skeleton a name. D’you remember that?’

  I open my mouth to speak the name but instead I hear myself say, ‘No, sorry. I can’t remember a thing. I must have been away with the fairies.’

  I don’t think he believes me but he shrugs and says, ‘Okay. No problem.’

  Why don’t I tell him? Should I? If I tell him who the skeleton is then I’ll have to tell him about Lizzie and the whole crazy scene. He’ll think I’m a lunatic. Psychotic or schizo or whatever they call people who see and hear things that don’t exist. Maybe I can tell him some of it? An edited version?

  ‘We should stay here till daylight,’ Daniel says. ‘I heard the dog barking about ten minutes ago, back along the creek. Besides, it’s still blowing a gale out there.’

  ‘Okay. Suits me.’ I’m trying to sound ultra-cool but inside I’m leaping up and down and cheering.

  ‘D’you want to try and get some sleep?’

  My body aches with tiredness but my mind is buzzing madly. ‘No. Not yet. I want to talk.’

  ‘Right. What about? Do you want to hear my life history? That would put you to sleep in five minutes.’

  I suddenly make up my mind. ‘Can I tell you a story instead?’

  ‘A bedtime story? Why not?’ He laughs. ‘Will it take my mind off the other resident of the cave?’

  I laugh too. ‘Maybe not. But it’s an excellent story.’

  ‘Shoot,’ he says with a grin.

  We turn the torch off to save the batteries. In the humming darkness, Daniel holds me tightly and I tell him the story of Lizzie and Matthew. I begin the story with Lizzie’s description of that hellish trip to New Zealand and finish when she’s creeping out of Marama’s hut with cracked ribs and a broken heart. Then I stop talking, and for a few seconds we both listen to the howl of the wind in the trees.

  ‘Hey, that’s some story,’ he says eventually. ‘Is it true?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So how did you hear about it? Are they your ancestors or something?’

  I’d already figured out an answer to the first question. As for the second, well, the timing is wrong. I just don’t want to go into all that stuff about George and Marama Martin right now. ‘I read about it in a history of the Marlborough Sounds,’ I tell him. ‘Glynn lent it to me the other day.’ It sounds so truthful I almost believe it myself.

  His arm tightens round my shoulder. ‘Hey, Bel?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Just before you fainted … when we saw the skeleton … you did say a name. Very clearly. You said “Matthew”.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘So do you reckon this is Matthew’s skeleton? The Maori preacher in your story?’

  I shrug. Best to play it cool. ‘I guess it could be. What do you think?’

  ‘Yeah. It could be. It sort of fits, somehow.’

  ‘Pretty amazing if it is him.’

  ‘Uh huh.’ He thought for a few seconds. ‘But what happened to the girl? Lizzie? After she went out to look for Matthew’s body?’

  I shrug again. ‘I don’t know. The book didn’t say. The chapter finished there.’ I’m not really lying to him. Just sort of moving along a parallel path that’s almost the truth. ‘I suppose she could have followed the tohunga and his gang and watched them put the body in this cave. But I’m only guessing.’

  ‘So we’ll never know for sure. What a bummer.’

  ‘I could try asking Glynn when I get back,’ I say. ‘Maybe he’s got something more in his papers and stuff.’

  The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that asking Glynn is the right thing to do. If Glynn can show me some written information about Lizzie’s life then I can have a kind of alibi for knowing so much about her. I won’t ever have to worry about saying something wrong and having people think I’m crazy. Maybe in 20 years’ time when I’m all grown-up and boring I will have convinced myself that I really did read about her in a book…

  But there’s still one major problem. Why did Lizzie tell me her story? And why did she bring me to this cave? Obviously she was saving us from Lenny but I’m sure she meant me to find Matthew’s bones. Another piece of the puzzle has fallen into place but I’m still one or two short. I haven’t figured it out yet. What a useless helper I am. Sorry, Lizzie.

  Daniel turns the torch on again. ‘Sleepy yet?’

  ‘No. Turn it off. I like the darkness.’

  He chuckles and turns the torch off again. ‘You’re amazing. Any other girl would have freaked out completely at the idea of spending hours in the dark rubbing elbows with a skeleton.’

  ‘Sorry.’ I giggle. ‘Hey, do you want me to be a bit more frightened? Then you could comfort me? How about this?’ I wriggle closer to him. To heck with Matthew’s bones. I don’t want to think about him any more. Daniel is warm flesh and blood and he feels so good.

  ‘Watch it. You know what they say.’

  ‘No, what?’

  I feel him nuzzle his face into my hair. ‘A brush with death makes people want to … um … celebrate life more.’

  ‘You mean it turns people on?’ I can hardly believe I said that, but I did.

  ‘Something like that.’ I can feel his chest jerking as he laughs. ‘You sure believe in telling it like i
t is, don’t you?’

  ‘Always.’ I turn my face towards him in the dark and with pinpoint accuracy he finds my mouth with his. The kiss is slow and gentle to begin with but we’re both breathing hard by the time we pull apart. ‘Wow,’ he murmurs.

  ‘Do you believe in love?’ I ask him.

  I feel his body relax slightly as he chuckles. ‘What a strange question. Yeah, I do. Doesn’t everyone?’

  ‘So tell me what it is. What is love? I really want to know.’

  ‘Umm … I suppose there must be different kinds. What sort are you talking about?’

  ‘Stop stalling! I mean when two people fall in love.’

  He strokes my cheek with a finger. ‘When two people fall in love suddenly the other person becomes the most important thing in the world. That person is all you can think about every minute of every day. You just want to be with the person for the rest of your life.’

  ‘You mean it’s more than just sex?’

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s a pretty important part of it. But it’s a lot more than just sex.’

  Like Lizzie with Matthew. Like my mother with Reuben. All you can think about every minute of every day. ‘Have you ever been in love like that?’ I ask him.

  ‘You bet. When I was ten I was in love with my teacher. She had long blonde hair. I used to hang around in the classroom after school till she threw me out. Every day for two whole weeks.’

  I dig him in the ribs. ‘Cheat! That doesn’t count. What about really in love — with someone like me?’ I hold my breath.

  For a long time he doesn’t say anything. I listen to him breathing. ‘I could be,’ he says finally. ‘I could fall in love with someone like you, Bel. Very easily. Someone special. Mysterious. Someone who’s always surprising me.’ He turns my face up to his and kisses me again. I feel as though I’m drowning in the smell and feel of him.

  We don’t talk for a while after that. Just kisses and touches and tastings. It’s not hard to figure out what he’d like to do. And a part of me wants it too. Badly. I feel all warm and melting inside and I just want to be as close to him as I can. With nothing between us, not even clothes.

  Suddenly I have the strangest feeling we’re being watched. I roll over on my back and look round but the cave is as dark as the night outside. A thought comes charging into my mind, almost like it’s been sent there — no, this is wrong. Wrong for me, maybe even wrong for Daniel too. I’m just not ready for my first time right now. I’m too young, too confused, whatever. I don’t want to be desperately in love like Lizzie and Matthew. Or like my mother and Reuben. Not yet. Later, I guess, but not yet.

  Is Lizzie sending me these thoughts? I don’t know. But I do know I’ve got to do something fast. I pull myself away from Daniel and scrabble for the torch. When I switch it on we both blink uncomfortably in the light. ‘What’s the matter?’ he says, reaching for me again. ‘Turn it off. It’s better in the dark.’

  ‘I can’t go any farther,’ I say baldly. ‘I’m sorry.’

  He rolls on his back and stares up at the rocks above us. ‘Christ, Bel. I thought …’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say again. ‘I really wanted to. But it would be wrong. For both of us.’

  He heaves a sigh, more like a groan. Then much to my relief he looks back at me and smiles ruefully. ‘Okay. You’re probably right. It would have messed things up big time. Neither of us are the type for one-night stands. Blame it all on the skeleton.’

  ‘Friends still?’ I hold out a hand, palm up.

  He hits it gently with his palm. ‘You bet. Friends for now — and who knows what’ll happen in the future?’

  We turn off the torch and lie in companionable silence for a few minutes. I feel peaceful now, and even a bit drowsy. Then I notice something. ‘Dan?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Is the storm going away?’

  He listens. ‘Maybe. The wind doesn’t sound so strong now. I can actually hear the booming of the breakers on the beach.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Do? We’re going to try and get a few hours’ sleep before morning, then we’re going to go back to the beach and hope we don’t find that dickhead still waiting for us. Then we’re going to get you safely back home.’

  ‘What about Matthew?’ I fumble for the torch and switch it on.

  He glances towards the pile of bones. ‘Maybe we should just leave him here. Why disturb him after all this time?’

  I sit up abruptly. ‘No! Not that.’

  ‘No? Okay, what do you want to do? Your call, Bel.’

  ‘Well … what do people do with old bones?’

  Daniel thinks. ‘If the bones are Christian then we should bury them properly, I guess.’

  That’s it! That’s why Lizzie brought me here. Why didn’t I think of it straight away? Now who’s a dickhead? ‘Yes! He needs to be buried in a proper place,’ I gabble. ‘A graveyard. He was a Christian, a preacher, so he’s got to be buried properly with a minister and a ceremony.’ As I say the words I know I’m one hundred percent right. I can feel Lizzie’s relief and joy wrapping round me like a warm blanket.

  ‘Fair enough,’ Daniel says. ‘In that case, we’ll have to tell your uncle, who’ll tell the police. I suppose they’ll take the bones away. They’ll have tests and procedures for cases like this.’

  ‘Oh.’ I hadn’t thought of that. ‘What will happen then? Can we still say where we want the bones to end up?’

  ‘I guess. The skeleton will have to go somewhere. Being buried in a proper graveyard should be okay.’

  ‘Dan, it’s really important. He’s got to go into a graveyard. Not cremated or anything.’

  Dan turns my face towards him and looks into my eyes. ‘Relax. We found him. We can make sure things happen the way we want. And remember, they’re probably Maori bones so that will help.’

  We turn off the torch again and wriggle around trying to get comfortable. By now I’m feeling really sleepy. ‘Good night, Dan,’ I murmur. And good night to you, Matthew. And Lizzie. Then my eyes close and the distant boom of the waves fades away.

  CHAPTER 16

  We actually manage to sleep for a few hours. When I open my eyes again the cave is filled with dirty grey light, flickering as the bushes sway in front of the entrance. The storm has almost passed. Some brave bird is even daring to sing a dawn chorus. ‘Good morning. How are you?’ Daniel’s voice says in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

  ‘Umm … still a bit zonked. Did you sleep?’

  ‘I dozed on and off.’

  I don’t want to move. This is the last time I’ll be close to him. I want to bury my face in his neck, I want to taste his lips, I want to sip his breath…

  Daniel reads my mind. ‘Bel, if we don’t get up and go now we’ll never go.’ His voice is husky.

  ‘I don’t want to go,’ I say, turning my face into his shoulder and slipping my arms round him. He feels so solid and safe.

  He holds me close for a few seconds, then gently unwinds my arms. ‘Come on.’

  We stagger to our feet. I feel about a hundred years old and probably look like it too. In the grey light Daniel’s face is gaunt, with dark smudges under his eyes. His hair is a tangled, salty mess. He stretches and I hear his bones crack. ‘Jeez,’ he groans, ‘that certainly wasn’t the softest bed in the world.’

  I look at Matthew’s skeleton. ‘What about him? It just doesn’t seem right to walk away and leave him.’

  ‘He’s okay. He’s waited a long time for a proper resting place. He can wait a bit longer.’ He takes my arm. ‘Come on, Bel. Let’s get out of here.’

  ‘Goodbye, Matthew,’ I say softly. ‘We’ll come back for you soon.’

  Lenny isn’t anywhere on the beach. For a few seconds we stand by the stream and stare along the curve of sand, figuring out what’s different. The foreshore is littered with heaps of seaweed and piles of driftwood, spewed up by the sea. But it’s not that. ‘The tent!’ Daniel says suddenly.
‘It’s gone!’

  I spot something large and grey plastered against the clay bank. ‘There it is. It must have blown down.’

  Holding hands, we trudge across the wet sand towards the pile of canvas. The sky is still thick with cloud and the southerly breeze cuts through my damp clothes, making me shiver. Angry little breakers thud impatiently on the sand. As we get closer, we see the rest of the campsite stuff scattered over the sand. The box containing Daniel’s small supply of food is ripped to pieces. A carton of fruit juice is squashed into the sand. A packet of bread has split open and slices lie round like pages ripped out of a book. Already a gaggle of seagulls is squabbling furiously over breakfast. ‘What a mess. The wind couldn’t have done all that, could it?’ I ask.

  Daniel frowns. He bends over and lifts a section of the tent off the ground. ‘I don’t think so. Look at this.’

  I peer at the canvas. There are two small round holes in it. ‘What are they?’

  ‘Bullet holes,’ he replies grimly. ‘That stupid bastard must have shot at the tent. You were right, Bel. He’s crazy.’ He picks up his sleeping bag. ‘Jeez, I’m glad I wasn’t still in this,’ he comments. It looks as if it’s been slashed by a psycho with a scalpel. Wads of lining bulge out of long jagged rips in the red nylon covering, reminding me of innards.

  I shiver. ‘He must have gone totally berserk.’

  Daniel snorts. ‘I reckon these rips were done by teeth.’

  I think of Ripper’s big, black, drooling mouth and those long slippery teeth. If he did that to a sleeping bag what would he have done to us?

  The throb of an engine makes us both look out to sea. A launch comes slowly round the point, rocking in the choppy sea. I recognise Queenie’s square, solid shape. ‘It’s Uncle Steve!’ I run down to the water’s edge and jump up and down and wave like a lunatic. The figures in the boat wave back just as madly.