White Dolphin

by Lewis, Gill

  ‘What am I going to do, Jim?’ she says. ‘We got no money for the rent this month.’

  Dad takes Aunt Bev’s hand in his. ‘Things will work out, Bev. You’ll see.’

  But Aunt Bev shakes her head. She doesn’t even wipe away the tears that fall and soak dark drops into the T-shirt stretched across her bulging belly.

  ‘We can’t keep you and Kara too,’ she says. ‘God knows how we’ll keep ourselves.’

  Dad nods and sits with her, still holding her hand. ‘You’ve been good to us, Bev,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry.’

  I back out of the door and turn to head up the stairs. But Daisy’s sitting on the bottom stair, Teddy-cat clutched to her chest. Her face is puffy and her eyes are red with tears.

  ‘I don’t want you to go,’ she says. She wraps her arms around me.

  I hug her tight. ‘Come on, Daisy,’ I say. I put my arm round her and we climb the stairs up to her bedroom. I sit next to her on the bed and hug her into me. ‘Carl released Angel this morning,’ I say.

  ‘I wish I could have come,’ she says.

  I stroke her hair. I feel bad that I didn’t take her. But I couldn’t have asked Aunt Bev. She’d never have let me go either. ‘She found her mother. She was waiting for her in the bay.’

  Daisy smiles and picks at the fluff balls on Teddy-cat’s fur.

  ‘We saved the reef too,’ I say. ‘There’s a picture of you and me in the paper. We’re famous, Daisy.’

  Daisy frowns. ‘Dougie Evans is mad at that.’

  ‘I know,’ I say. I can’t help smiling. ‘But we’ve got the other fishermen on our side. They’re not going to dredge the reef.’

  Daisy shakes her head. ‘Dad said he wouldn’t do it, that’s why Dougie Evans started shouting.’

  ‘Uncle Tom said he wouldn’t do what?’

  Daisy looks at me. Her bottom lip trembles. ‘I heard them in the kitchen, and Dougie Evans is going to do it anyway.’

  I feel my heart pump in my ears. I search her face. ‘Do what?’ I say.

  Daisy hugs Teddy-cat tight into her chest. ‘Dougie Evans said he’s going fishing on the midnight tide. He’s going to rip out every coral in the bay.’

  CHAPTER 31

  ‘It didn’t make any difference, did it?’ I say.

  I turn the brittle skeleton of the pink sea-fan over and over in my hand. A small piece comes away and falls onto the wet sand. Every day, more sea-fans and corals are washed up on the shoreline. It’s been nearly a month since the local fishermen signed the voluntary ban. But since then, more and more trawlers from other fishing towns up and down the coast have come to dredge the bay. It seems they don’t care about the ban, or the bay.

  Felix flings a pebble into the waves. ‘Dad heard the local fishermen complaining because they’re not getting as many lobsters and crabs in their pots. And the fish market in town won’t buy the scallops,’ he says. ‘At least they still support the voluntary ban. The trawlers that come here have to take their catch elsewhere.’

  I shake my head. ‘For now,’ I say. I know Uncle Tom managed to get work on another boat. He’ll be out there soon too. And he’s not the only local fisherman to go out on the trawlers. Dad heard them say it wasn’t fair that other fishermen were taking their share of shellfish instead. I stare out to sea. At least it’s been too rough to work these past few days. The high waves have washed up broken reef. I don’t want to imagine what it looks like now. It must look like a ghost reef, like the pictures of torn down rainforest, only under water, out of sight.

  Felix pulls his hood up over his head. We’re the only ones on the beach today. The clouds are low and heavy. They scud across the headland and the hills behind. Cold rain blasts in from the sea, horizontal.

  ‘We saved Angel, though,’ says Felix. ‘It counts for something.’

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘I wish we could see her again.’

  We’ve looked for the dolphins every day, but we haven’t seen them since Angel was released. Carl asked us to record any sightings of dolphins or whales. He took us out one day in the Marine Life Rescue boat and we saw basking sharks, their sail-like black dorsal fins cruising through the water and their huge white mouths gaping open, filtering plankton from the sea. We saw grey seals too, their fish-fattened bodies stretched out on warm rocks, sleeping in the sun.

  ‘I don’t reckon we’ll see much out there today,’ says Felix. ‘Come on. Let’s get some food in town.’

  I stand up and wipe the sand from my hands. ‘Don’t you ever stop eating?’

  Felix grins. ‘Lunch was two hours ago. I’m starving.’

  We walk through the streets in town, but the cafés are packed. Through the mist of condensation on the windows, I see families crowded around tables. Bags, coats, and umbrellas lie scattered around chairs.

  ‘We could get some chips from the take-away and eat them in Moana under the cover,’ I say. ‘There’s not much room, but we’d be dry.’

  ‘It’ll do for now,’ Felix grins. ‘We’ll have more room when I get my yacht for my solo trip around the world.’

  I laugh. ‘So you’re still up for the regatta race next week?’

  ‘Yep,’ he says. ‘Dad and I got round Gull Rock and back in under an hour and thirty minutes last time.’

  ‘Not bad,’ I say. But secretly, I’m impressed. The fastest time Dad and I raced Moana was in one hour and forty-five, but I’m not telling Felix that. He and his dad have been out sailing nearly every day. I’ve watched them from the shore. I’ve watched, wanting to be out there too with Dad in Moana, like it used to be. But now, even on his days off work, he finds something else to do. He’s just not interested any more. It’s as if he’s turned his back on her. Maybe it’s because he can’t face losing her. Maybe that’s the way he feels about me.

  Felix and I take our chips from the counter. I slip mine inside my coat to keep dry and we turn down Rope Walk, a quicker way to the harbour. Rain hammers on the rooftops and water pours out of gutters and across our path. The cobbles shine wet, the moss between them damp and slippery. Felix picks his way slowly down, but I hurry ahead, keen to get out of the rain. I hear him shout. I turn and see him stumble to the ground and his knees hit the hard stone cobbles. His chips scatter into the rivulets of water.

  I run back and kneel down beside him. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have rushed on.’

  I offer my hand to help him up, but he pushes me away and swears under his breath. I try to scoop up some of his chips, but even the ones still in the packet have turned to mush. The seagulls are pacing up and down behind us, ready for an easy meal.

  Felix pushes himself up and thumps his hand against the wall. ‘I hate being like this sometimes.’

  His jeans are ripped at the knees. Dark red bloodstains spread across the frayed denim.

  He leans against the wall and kicks the chip packet towards the seagulls. ‘Out on the water, I can do anything anyone else can do. It’s like my boat is part of me.’ He thumps the wall again. ‘Out there, I’m free.’

  I nod, because I know just what he means. Moana feels part of me. She keeps us safe, a protective shell around Mum and Dad and me.

  The wind gusts up from the harbour walls and whips my hair across my face. I wrap my coat tightly around me and feel my packet of chips burn warm against my skin. The smell of vinegar and salty chips wafts up around my collar. ‘Come on,’ I say. ‘I’ve got loads in here. You can share mine.’ I’m starving too, and can’t wait to eat them under Moana’s cover spread across the boom.

  The harbour walls are empty. A few gulls march along the wall beside the waste bins hoping for scraps of food. I look down along the line of pleasure yachts to see Moana. But her cover’s been drawn back and there are two people sitting inside. Even from here I can see who they are. It’s Ethan, and Jake Evans.

  I leave Felix on the harbour wall and climb down the ladder set into the granite blocks. I run along the pontoon, my feet thudding on the boards.

  I stare at them in
the boat. Crisp packets and a drink can lie scattered inside. ‘Get out,’ I yell.

  Jake and Ethan exchange glances. Ethan puts his feet up on the seats.

  I climb inside Moana. ‘Get out of my boat.’

  Jake leans forward and smirks at me. ‘I think you’ll find she’s not your boat.’

  I scowl at him. ‘What d’you mean?’

  Jake just smiles. ‘Take a look.’

  I look around Moana. Everything’s the same. I open up the cubby under the foredeck. The flares and toolbox are still there, but our blankets have gone, and so have Dad’s fishing tackle and the red tin cups.

  I look up at Jake and he’s still grinning. ‘Didn’t your dad tell you? My dad bought her last weekend.’ He looks at the chip packet sticking out of the top of my coat. ‘Your dad was in a hurry to sell her. Cheap as chips, she was.’

  I just stare at him. It can’t be true.

  But Jake’s mouth forms in a thin hard line. He holds up the keys to the locker under the foredeck. ‘So I think it’s for me to say, get out of my boat.’

  I back out of Moana and climb the ladder. I shove the chips in Felix’s hand. ‘I’ve got to go,’ I say. I run all the way to Aunt Bev’s house and don’t stop until I burst through the door. Aunt Bev’s ironing shirts, watching the TV.

  I stand in front of her. ‘Where’s Dad?’ I say.

  Aunt Bev tries to look round me. ‘He went out.’

  I switch the TV off. ‘Where?’ I say.

  She up-ends the iron and puts her hand on her hip. ‘What’s this about, Kara?’

  ‘He’s sold her, hasn’t he?’ I try to blink back the tears. ‘He’s sold Moana.’

  Aunt Bev stoops to pull the plug of the iron from the wall. ‘Sit down, Kara.’

  I don’t sit down. ‘He’s sold Moana to Dougie Evans.’

  Aunt Bev reaches out to touch my arm but I step away. ‘He said he couldn’t bring himself to tell you.’

  I just stare at her in blank silence.

  ‘Don’t be angry at him, Kara. He’s trying to get his life back. God knows, he needs to.’

  ‘Where is he?’ I say.

  Aunt Bev fiddles with a button on a shirt. ‘He’s gone to Exeter for the day.’

  ‘Exeter!’ Dad didn’t mention this to me. ‘Why Exeter?’

  Aunt Bev takes a deep breath. I watch her fold the shirt, running long straight creases down the sleeves and seams. She lets her breath out slowly and lays the shirt on the pile next to her.

  ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this,’ she says. She smooths the front of the shirt and straightens the collar. ‘But he’s gone for a job interview. Don’t ask what. He wouldn’t even tell me. But he told me he was doing this for you.’

  I storm past her out of the room. She calls after me, but I run up the stairs to Daisy’s bedroom, glad she’s out at Lauren’s today.

  I curl up under my duvet and lie in empty silence.

  I can’t believe we’ve lost her.

  Moana isn’t ours.

  That shell around Mum and Dad and me has broken.

  It feels as if nothing can protect us any more.

  CHAPTER 32

  I sit with Felix on the wooden boards of the roundabout in the park. Rainwater soaks through my jeans and the cold metal of the bars of the roundabout burn into my skin. It feels like a winter storm, although it’s summer, still. The skies are low and heavy and the sea is a shifting mass of grey and green. All the fishing boats have run for home, all except Dougie Evans’s. His trawlers are still out there on the high seas.

  It’s been a week now since I found out Dad sold Moana. I can hardly bring myself to speak to him. It’s not as if he speaks to me these days anyway. I’ve lost Mum and now I’ve lost Moana. It feels as if I’m losing Dad now too. He hasn’t even mentioned his trip to Exeter, and I’m not going to ask him. It’s not as if I can do anything. The baby’s due any day, and Dad and I will have to find somewhere else to live.

  I push the roundabout round with my feet. ‘Are you still sailing in the regatta race tomorrow?’

  ‘If it’s not cancelled,’ says Felix. His hood is pulled over his head and the storm collar of his coat is drawn across the lower half of his face so only his eyes are showing.

  ‘I hope you win,’ I say. ‘You deserve to.’

  He pushes back his hood. ‘I asked Dad if you could sail with me tomorrow instead of him, but he says I’m not ready yet.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I smile. ‘But I reckon your dad wants to do this with you too.’

  I push faster with my feet and the hills and sea spin all around us.

  ‘You know that sailing coach Dad got for me?’ says Felix.

  I nod. ‘I saw you with him out on the water.’

  Felix holds on to the roundabout with his good arm and leans out over the spinning concrete. ‘He wants to put me in the junior training squad for the Paralympics sailing team.’

  I slam my foot down. The roundabout scrapes to a halt. ‘You’re kidding! Why didn’t you tell me before? That’s fantastic, Felix. Brilliant.’ I mean it too.

  He pulls the storm collar from his face and looks right at me. ‘One of the race categories is for a disabled and an able-bodied sailor. Would you do it with me?’

  The question takes me by surprise. I’ve never sailed any other boat except Moana.

  ‘We’d make a great team,’ he says. ‘We wouldn’t argue . . . much.’ He’s grinning now. ‘And we’d do all our training here, in the bay. We’ll train in my boat.’

  I stare at the ground. I’d love the chance to sail again, especially to race with Felix, but for all I know, Dad’s got a job in Exeter. Soon we’ll be far away from here. I shake my head. ‘I don’t know, Felix,’ I say. ‘I don’t think it would work.’

  ‘But, Kara . . .’

  ‘Just leave it,’ I snap.

  I stand up and walk away from him to the park fence. The town is sprawled out beneath me. The houses are darkened by the rain and the harbour is full of boats sheltering from the storm.

  In the distance I see Dougie Evans’s trawlers rear up on the horizon. Maybe it would be better to be far away from here. I don’t think I could bear to see Dougie Evans sailing Moana in the bay. Felix leans on the fence next to me and we watch the trawlers come back across the heaving sea, like wolves returning from their hunt. Their prows rise over waves and slice down, sending up plumes of spray. A flock of seagulls trails in their wake, bright against the slate-grey sky. I guess the trawlers have come back with full nets this time.

  ‘I’m sorry I snapped,’ I say.

  ‘Just think about it,’ says Felix. ‘Promise me?’

  I nod and stuff my hands deep in my pockets. ‘I’d better go. Aunt Bev wants me back for lunch.’

  I walk with Felix across the play park. The wind whistles through the top bars of the climbing frame, like a gale through a mast. Big puddles spread across the tarmac and rain shines off the seesaw and the swings. Outside the gate we almost bump into Adam and his brother Joe running down the road, their footsteps slapping on the wet pavement.

  Adam stops in front of us, his hands on his knees, panting. ‘Have you seen it?’

  ‘What?’ I say.

  ‘The great white shark,’ says Adam. ‘Dad’s heard that Dougie Evans has caught a great white shark in his nets.’

  I shake my head. Joe pulls Adam’s arm and they set off towards the harbour. I can’t believe Dougie Evans has caught a great white shark. We don’t get them in these waters. He’s probably caught a basking shark. I know they can get to forty feet in length. But there’s a doubt in my mind because we sometimes get leather-backed turtles washed up here from more tropical seas.

  ‘Shall we take a look?’ I ask Felix.

  Felix shrugs his shoulders. ‘Can you face seeing Jake again?’

  ‘It won’t be for long,’ I say. ‘I bet loads of other people are down there too.’

  By the time Felix and I reach the harbour, a small crowd has gathered on the quaysid
e beside one of Dougie Evans’s trawlers. We walk past the fish market. I glance through the clear plastic flaps of the entrance into the cool bright space inside. Yellow crates, full of fish, lie in rows along the concrete floor. Two of the fishermen inside are grinning widely. It’s been a good trip for Dougie Evans and his men.

  I look around for Felix, but Jake is suddenly beside me. ‘Hey, Kara,’ he says. ‘Ever seen a great white shark before?’ He looks smug, but there’s something else, something more than boasting in his voice.

  I look beyond him to the crowd of people.

  I can see something lying on the ground half hidden behind rows of legs.

  I try to push my way through, but Chloe’s suddenly next to me, pulling me away.

  I can hear Jake’s voice again. ‘Come and see what my dad’s caught in his nets.’

  Chloe pulls me harder. ‘Don’t look,’ she says. Her eyes are red with tears. ‘Come away, Kara.’

  And suddenly I don’t want to be here, because I know it’s not a great white shark that Jake Evans wants me to see.

  I want to turn away, but I can’t. I catch glimpses of it, smooth and grey between the legs of people crowded round.

  I see Felix on the far side of the crowd. He looks sick and pale.

  Overhead, a gull screams.

  I push my way through, following Jake. There is no great white shark or basking shark. On the bloodied concrete lies the still grey body of a dolphin. Its eye looks unseeing into the leaden sky. I follow the smooth curve of its back to the dorsal fin, to a deep notch at the base.

  I fall forward on my knees and taste the sharp acid of bile in my mouth.

  Angel’s mother is dead.

  CHAPTER 33

  I run. I don’t stop running until I reach the cove and sink down in the soft white sand. Thin trails of bright blood trickle down my arms into the water. I didn’t feel the gorse and brambles cut my skin, I just had to get here. I had to get away. I lie down and let the water swirl around me, soaking through my jeans. I rest my head upon the sand and close my eyes. And it floods over me again, that she is dead. Her staring eye and broken face stay fixed inside my mind and I can’t wash them out, however hard I try. It feels like part of me has gone, as if the part that kept Mum close has gone now too.