Midnight Dolphin

by James Carmody

  Lucy didn’t care though. If she could return to Cornwall, somehow she might be able to find out more about the three green caves. She might be able to do something to determine her own destiny.

  Bethany said that the funeral would be the day after tomorrow. Lucy guessed it would be at the little church at the end of Bussey Lane. Gravestones huddled around the squat, honey-coloured church, encircled in turn by a crumbling stone wall. In the summer there had been a profusion of tall grass and meadow flowers growing between the graves. She wondered what it would be like there now in the depths of the hard winter.

  ‘I was going to go of course’ said Bethany, ‘but I’m sure Nate would appreciate it if you both came too. I’d like it if you did. Maybe you could stay for a few days, for Christmas even’ she added, smiling.

  They sat and sipped at the hot drinks that Dad had made. Bethany told them again about the time that the tyre of her Land Rover had blown out and how Nate had come to her rescue. She’d found herself sitting chatting to Thelma in their kitchen drinking tea while Nate changed the wheel for her. Lucy said how Nate would talk affectionately about Thelma and his boat the Lady Thelma and how you could never quite tell which was which. Dad talked about the extraordinary amount of cake and sandwiches that Thelma had pressed upon him when he went to visit one time. No one talked about dolphins, though they were all thinking about what Thelma had said about them.

  ‘Well I suppose I can drive all three of us back down to Cornwall tomorrow’ said Bethany. Lucy blanched at the idea of a long drive in Bethany’s draughty old car, but didn’t say anything. Dad announced that he’d better get some washing in the machine if they were going to set off the next day, and started to make himself busy. Bethany asked if she could check her email on the computer. Lucy drifted upstairs to her room. She looked at the drawings of dolphins, seals and sea-birds that she’d done and stuck to her wall with Blu-tack. It felt as though she’d done them a lifetime ago. Her thoughts returned to Spirit again. She yearned to be back with him. She could only hope that somehow that would happen. Dad wouldn’t approve of her bringing her wet suit, but she’d sneak it into the Land Rover somehow when he wasn’t looking.

  Before long, the afternoon gave way to evening. The clouds had cleared and a thin disk of red sun was descending towards the horizon. ‘Red sky at night, shepherds delight’ she said to herself. Lucy never was quite sure what was so good about a red sky at night, not that it mattered. She got out her photos and spent an hour or so looking at old snaps of her, Mum and Dad. Sometimes she felt an aching sense of loss when she looked at old pictures of Mum. Now though she had a feeling of sweet melancholy. She felt emotionally drained after hearing about Thelma. Now she was simply glad to be peaceful. One way and another it had been an eventful few days.

  The next morning Bethany insisted that they all got up early and got on the road before the start of rush-hour traffic. When Lucy opened her blinds, it had only just grown light. There was a thick frost on the ground and it looked bleak and cold outside. Bethany, who had been sleeping on the sofa bed again was already up and dressed in her jeans and misshapen and colourful old pullover. Lucy was still ravenous after her days of not eating in the hospital and forced down as much toast and cereals as she could.

  When Dad opened the front door to take the hold-all containing his clothes and hers to the car, an icy wind blew into the house. Lucy was glad to huddle into her ski jacket again before going outside to climb into the chilly car. Dad closed the front door and double-locked it. They all cambered into the Land Rover and slammed the car doors shut. Bethany turned the key in the ignition and the car spluttered into life.

  ‘Right’ she said. ‘Let’s hit the road.’

  Chapter Thirteen:

  Megan slept restlessly that night. It was hot in the cottage and she insisted on opening the bedroom window, though Bethany complained that mosquitos would fly in and bite her. Megan said that the sea breeze would blow them away, but there was no wind and the air was hot and humid around them. Megan couldn’t settle and turned from one side to another, trying to get comfortable. Instead her mind raced with thoughts about their visit to Toby Smith’s house and what Rachel had found in the Reverend Jeremiah’s journal. The more she tried to think things through as she lay there staring at the ceiling, the less sense everything seemed to make.

  Eventually Megan closed her eyes and slept. Her dreams were blurry and it was hard to tell where she was. Eventually she realised that she was walking through an endless cave that seemed to stretch on in front of her for ever. The roof of the cave rose higher and higher until it merged with the night sky and she could see stars above her. Megan looked down. At her feet there was a perfectly round pool of water in the rock, illuminated by the moonlight. Megan looked in to the pool, expecting to see her own reflection in the calm surface of the water.

  The girl looking back at her from underneath the surface of the pool looked similar, yet subtly different to how her reflection should have looked. Megan noticed that the girl was wearing different clothes and that the girl’s hair was darker than her own. Megan brushed a strand of hair from out of her eyes, yet the girls hands remained calmly at her sides. Megan leant over the pool and peered intently into the still water. At the same time the girl bent to look more closely at her as well. Megan felt certain that she knew the girl but was equally sure that they had never met before. Instinctively she plunged her hand into the calm pool and as she did so the image of the girl was lost amidst the ripples of the disturbed surface of the dark water.

  Suddenly there was a loud buzzing from above her head and she felt something uncomfortable on her neck. Then she was half awake again, swotting away a mosquito that had just settled on her skin to drink her blood. Megan turned over again in bed and pulled the sheet up so that it entirely covered her head. Those mosquitos wouldn’t get another chance to bite her if she could help it. Megan hoped that her dreams would take her back to Jet and the other dolphins in his pod. Instead all she could see were tails, flitting briefly before disappearing into the inky murk of the sea at night. When Megan awoke to the morning light streaming in through the thin curtains of the cottage window, she felt as though she hadn’t slept at all.

  Megan sat up in bed and pulled out the slim volume that she had bought from Owl Books. It suddenly occurred to her that the Flora and Fauna of the Cornish Coast might have something to say about well-known caves in the area. Megan flicked through the book idly, but her thoughts returned again to the day before.

  ‘No I’ve never heard of Trinity Caves’ Toby Smith answered Rachel matter-of-factly. ‘But I’m intrigued to know more. Come on downstairs and I’ll fix you both a glass of orange and lemonade with ice. I fancy a Gin & Tonic myself. Looks like you both need a touch of light refreshment. And bring those journals with you’ he added, unnecessarily.

  Megan looked at Rachel curiously. What had she found? Rachel looked back at Megan with a conspiratorial smile.

  ‘I think I’ve just come across some good stuff’ she whispered with a wink as they followed the two adults down the stairs.

  Back in the spacious living room, Megan, Rachel’s Mum and Toby Smith all turned to look expectantly at Rachel who sat dustily at one edge of the sofa, drink in one hand, journal in the other.

  ‘Well’ she said, putting her drink down, you know Jeremiah Smith wrote his book, ‘A description of the Lives of the Inhabitants of the County of Cornwall’? He must have based the book on what he had written in his journals. I’m guessing that this journal’, she raised the slim volume in her hand, ‘must have been written after his book was published.’

  ‘So what does the good Rev say?’ asked Toby Smith.

  ‘The journal that Mum has at the shop talks about coming across a young girl of fifteen years who hadn’t lost the gift of speaking to dolphins when she turned thirteen or so. He said that this girl wouldn’t tell him how she had avoided losing the gift.’ Rachel paused. Megan felt the eyes of Toby Smith focused on her for
a moment and imagined that he must have guessed why she was interested.

  ‘Well basically the Reverend wouldn’t take no for an answer when it comes to getting to the nub of the story. He kept pestering her to spill the beans and tell him how she did it. Here, for example, look at this entry.’ Rachel started reading.

  ‘I have found out that the young woman who retained her gift as a Dolphin-Child goes by the name of Mary Pewsey.’ Rachel coughed, clearing some of the dust of the attic out of her lungs.

  ‘Having determined to winkle the secret from her, this very Sunday afternoon I visited the cottage where Miss Pewsey resides with her mother and father and sister, a short distance up the hill from the harbour. I chose Sunday to be sure that the family would be at home and so that I could speak to the young woman in the presence of her parents without any impropriety or fear of approbation.’

  ‘I engaged the good people in polite conversation in their modest dwelling and asked if I might converse with their daughter Mary. The parents were most accommodating and brought their daughter forth for my inspection, but young Mary was taciturn and refused to engage in conversation with me, to the consternation of her parents. I enquired if she was to be wed, but her mother answered with much disapproval that her daughter has little interest in such matters. Mary Pewsey herself has a refined face and a slender figure that I would not expect of folk of such a lowly station. I left their dwelling vexed and dissatisfied with the paltry progress that I had made, but determined to engage Miss Pewsey in conversation once again when the opportunity arose.’

  ‘So the Rev found out nothing, is that it?’ asked Toby Smith, taking a sip from his glass.

  ‘A couple of weeks later he had another bash at poor Mary Pewsey’ said Rachel, glancing up from the page and smiling.

  ‘As it is summer and the light awakens me early, I am oft to be found striding along the cliffs at dawn, before many of my parishioners have arisen. So doing I happened upon young Mary Pewsey, hastening home along the cliff path from Old Man’s Cove. Miss Pewsey was most startled to see me there and I sought to reassure her that as both a pastor and a gentleman I meant her no harm. Again she refused to engage in conversation and bustled on past me as soon as she was able. Yet I was most struck by the fact that her hair had evidently recently been immersed in the briny water of the sea and it appeared as though her clothes were damp. I surmised that she must have been swimming in the sea with dolphins as she had been known to be a Dolphin-Child. I was naturally concerned that the reputation of a young Christian woman might be tainted by such activities and decided to speak to her mother alone to voice my fears.’

  ‘What a ghastly old hypocrite’ exclaimed Toby Smith disapprovingly.

  ‘Well you know what the Victorians were like’ replied Rachel’s Mum.

  ‘What happened next?’ asked Megan eagerly. Rachel took another sip from her drink and flicked a few pages onwards.

  ‘I paid a visit to the Pewsey cottage this morning and discovered some most interesting facts’ Rachel read on. ‘John Pewsey, a fisherman, was out on his vessel. Mary Pewsey and her sister were fortunately elsewhere. Only old mother Pewsey was at home at the cottage, scrubbing the doorstep of her cottage with a brush. She was embarrassed to be visited by a gentleman whilst engaged in such domestic chores but I put her at her ease saying that as her vicar she need feel no such concern and entreating her to put a copper on the hearth and make tea.

  I informed the good woman of my encounter with her daughter on the cliff tops and of my belief that unusually she had retained her gift beyond the normal age of twelve or thirteen. Mother Pewsey confirmed that indeed it was true. To my surprise she combined the sentiments of both apprehension and pride at her daughter’s achievement which naturally I considered unbecoming for a young woman of this parish. I queried how young Mary had achieved this remarkable feat. She hesitated for a moment and then told me that she believed that it was due to a visit to “them Trinity Caves”. She did not know more than that. I bade Mrs Pewsey a good afternoon a short while later, determined both to visit Trinity Caves myself and to find a further opportunity to interrogate Mary Pewsey again on the subject.’ Rachel paused and took a gulp from the glass next to her.

  ‘But where are the Trinity Caves?’ asked Megan eagerly, ‘and what else does the Reverend say about Mary Pewsey?’

  ‘Well I haven’t got that far yet’ grinned Rachel. ‘But I’ve no idea where Trinity Caves are. None of us know I think?’ said Rachel quizzically, looking up at Toby Smith and her mother. Rachel’s Mum shook her head.

  ‘Hang on!’ exclaimed Megan, remembering something. ‘I’ve got a book where the caves are mentioned. In fact I bought it in your shop.’

  ‘Well what does it say?’ asked Rachel’s mum, smiling.

  ‘Actually I can’t remember’ answered Megan sheepishly. ‘But I’ve got it at the cottage. I can check it when I get back.’

  It had been two days since Lucy dissolved back into the water and returned to her father in the hospital. Spirit felt bereft and alone without her, even though Dancer and the rest of the pod were there to keep him company. He and Dancer had searched and searched for the Three Green Caves, but without success.

  ‘I’m sure we can find the caves’ Spirit enthused to Dancer just after Lucy had gone. ‘It’s just a matter of looking.’ Dancer was equally keen and the two of them had made their way along the coastline, under the shadow of the brooding cliffs.

  ‘Do you think we’ll find the entrance under water?’ asked Dancer as they made their way along, using their echo location clicks to find any openings.

  ‘Well there has to be an opening which dolphins can get in through’ replied Spirit, ‘so it must be under the water line, somewhere hidden’ he went on, ‘or we’d know about it already.’

  They soon found that their task was not as easy as they imagined. There were any number of outcrops, jutting out under the waterline, that gave the impression that there was a cave underneath. Closer inspection though generally showed nothing but a wall of rock, occupied by sullen crabs. Occasionally they would come across a rocky fissure that gave the promise of something more. They would investigate curiously, eagerly, in the hope that it would open out into some larger space that looked like it might be a cave. Most of the time though, the fissures narrowed into nothing more than a tight crevice. Even the larger holes in the rock were too shallow to justify being called a cave at all.

  The two dolphins found it to be dark and depressing work. The more they searched, the more they both craved light and the open sea. A day later they felt entirely dispirited.

  ‘It’s impossible’ complained Dancer after they had investigated yet another crack in the rock. ‘We could be at this for the next two moons and we still wouldn’t find the Three Green Caves.’ Spirit sighed. He knew that Dancer was right. If it was a well hidden entrance, they could swim right past it and still have no idea it was there. What’s more it could be blocked off by a rock-fall. The odds seemed stacked against them.

  ‘Come on’ said Spirit eventually. ‘Let’s get back to the rest of the pod. I’m tired and hungry and I just want to rest.’ Spirit felt his dream of easy success fading away. The aching sense of loss, now that Lucy had gone away again, just seemed to get greater.

  The woman sat at her desk, idly re-reading her files. The lab was quiet and all her colleagues had packed up and left for the day. A research fellow called Ben was leaving and there were drinks arranged at the Jolly Wagoner pub, just up the road. She’d promised to join them all, but the woman lingered, lost in thought. Her files bulged with notes, observations and recordings. Most of all though she couldn’t help but turn back to the photographs she had accumulated over the years which she had tucked under a flap at the back of one of the files. There was a picture of Megan, taken so many years ago, her freckled face tanned by the Cornish sun. There was a picture of Lucy, her daughter, taken years later, holding her mothers’ hand. They looked so much alike.

  Standing
at the foot of the hospital bed, looking at the sleeping Lucy, the woman had so wanted to wake her up and speak to her. There was so much she had to tell Lucy. It was impossible though. Instead she had hastened away down the brightly lit corridors of the hospital, out into the cold December night. If only she could carry out research on Lucy, now that Megan was gone. Yet she knew that all too soon Lucy’s gift might be lost like the blossom from a cherry tree. She wondered if the book she’d posted Lucy had reached her, and what the young girl had made of it. Scientists, she knew, should not influence their subjects in this way, but hers was more than a merely professional interest.

  She sighed, and closing her file, glanced at her watch. It was ten to eight in the evening. She supposed she’d better join the others at the pub for a while at least before heading home. Just then her mobile phone rang. It was just a brief conversation, but as she slid her phone shut again, it felt as though a little part of her had crumpled inside. Someone she knew well had died. The funeral was the very next day.

  ‘Well it may be in your book Megan, but I’ve still never heard of the Trinity Caves’ said Rachel the next day, ‘and I don’t know anyone who has.’ They were sitting on the stone wall outside the holiday cottage the next morning. Rachel’s rusty old Citroen was parked outside. The sun was already hot and the stones felt warm underneath them.

  ‘Look. It says here that the Trinity Caves are known for their beautiful stalactites and crystalline rock formation’ Megan exclaimed excitedly.