‘But their father didn’t come.
‘On the morning of the fourth day, there was a glimmer at the mouth of the cavern, just a greeniness in the water, not anything you would recognise as light, but the mother mermaid knew it meant that the clouds had started to break up, way up miles above in the sky, and so she called out to the children that they could leave the cave. They all swam together to the mouth of the storm cave, and they started to swim slowly, with weak movements of their arms and tails, up to the surface of the water.
‘Before very long, the family of mermaids had got over their miserable stay in the cave. They had fished and fished and eaten and eaten until they were well and strong again, but still their father hadn’t come home. The children still missed him, and they still wailed for him in the evenings, especially in that last hour before supper when they were hungry.
‘Years went by, and the mother mermaid was weary by now of always being a mother and always having eleven children and never having a husband to help her. Even she missed her husband now, and when the children started up their evening wailing, she too would sometimes wipe a tear away.
‘Then one evening, the merman came home. He swam up to the rock at supper time, just as his wife was combing her youngest child’s hair.
‘“Dear wife,” he said, “how I have missed you and our eleven lovely children. I just had to come home this once and see you all again.”
‘His wife stared at him, glad to see him but wondering what he meant by “this once”.
‘The children all came swimming around their father and covered him with salty kisses and begged to know where he had been.
‘Well, he told them that he was after making a new life for himself, that he had a new family now, on the dry land. He said his new wife loved it when he left his earthly home and came back laden with jewels mined from the ocean deep.
‘But he said he was sometimes filled with longing to see his old family again, and his old wife, and so he had come on a short visit.
‘They all wept to hear it was only to be a short visit, but he explained to them that because he had married an earth-woman he had lost his merman’s tail and grown human legs. He said he only had his tail now between dusk and dawn, and during the day he had to live on the land and breathe the air, like humans.
‘Sadly, they all had to accept that he could no longer live the life of a merman and be with them, but they made him promise to come and see them just sometimes, when he wasn’t too busy prospecting for gold for his earthly family.
‘As the merman was about to leave, he produced a present for his mermaid wife. It was a single jewel. But it was a jewel such as she had never seen before. It was milky white with blue and pink lights glimmering on its surface.
‘“Ah!” she exclaimed, holding it up on the palm of her hand. “At last you bring me a treasure of the earth that I find beautiful.”
‘“Oh no, wife,” he replied. “That is no treasure of the earth. That is a treasure of the sea.”
‘And with that he kissed his wife lovingly and he kissed each of his eleven children and said goodbye to them all.
‘Then he swam slowly away from them, and they were left with nothing but longing in their hearts and a single memento of their father – a beautiful, glowing pearl.’
Chapter 10
THE LUNCH THAT DISAPPEARED – TWICE
BEVERLEY DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. She had obviously completely underestimated this boy, but she didn’t know how to tell him what a terrific storyteller she thought he was. At last she managed to say ‘That was a lovely story,’ in a small, embarrassed voice. ‘Thank you,’ she added, hoping she was saying the right thing.
‘Yeah, well, I don’t know where it came from really,’ said Kevin, looking embarrassed too.
‘All that stuff about treasures of the earth and treasures of the sea and the silken-streamy hair and everything! You must be a bit of a poet.’
‘Yeh! Without knowing it!’ said Kevin with an awkward laugh. Then he changed the subject: ‘Lookit, I bet if we climb up these dunes, we should be able to walk around the island and maybe meet up with the other pair. And sure even if we don’t, we’ll arrive back on that beach we landed on this morning, in time for dinner. I mean, lunch.’
‘Mmmm,’ said Beverley, patting her trousers to see if they were dry. They weren’t dry. In fact, they were still sopping wet. ‘Sounds good. I’m ravenous.’
Their progress was slow, hampered by the wetness of their clothing and the difficulty of walking barefoot and on sand, but they made it up the dunes and then walked, their lower halves still gently steaming, along the dry and spiky marram grass, until they met a familiar-looking path, with a streak of daisies down the middle of it.
‘This must be Gerard and Elizabeth’s trail,’ said Beverley, straining to see if she could make out their figures in the distance. But the view along the path was limited to a few yards. After that, the path disappeared into a green tunnel of hedgerow and undergrowth and overhanging bushes.
Kevin threw a worried look along the trail. How far had they got? he wondered. And had they met the island woman – the Witch of Lady Island as some of the Tranarone people called her? But he didn’t mention his fears to Beverley. It might be all OK. They might not have met her, and even if they had, well …
After dripping along the trail for some time, they spotted a bright and alien object flung carelessly across the path, something long and spindly and wrapped in disintegrating coloured paper – a garden flare.
‘Aha!’ said Beverley, pouncing on it. ‘They’ve been here. Where’s ours, by the way?’
‘I suppose it must be back on the cliff,’ said Kevin, ‘with the lunch rucksack.’
‘Oh no!’ wailed Beverley. ‘And my sum copy!’ She could hardly believe she hadn’t missed it earlier. She hadn’t felt the urge to record a single thing, not since the lark.
Her wet jeans felt cold now, her feet weren’t clean any more – bits of leaf and grit and grass and sand clung to them and irritated her between her toes – but they were too damp still to coax back into her runners, and her hair felt full of creatures, though she knew it was just perspiration running along her scalp that caused that sensation. And now an overwhelming pang of hunger punched her right in the middle and almost knocked the breath out of her.
‘Ah well,’ said Kevin, ‘Gerard and Elizabeth have to be near here somewhere. Sure we’ll find them soon, and then we can all get back to the beach for a bite to eat. And after that we can head off home.’ With a bit of luck, they’d get off the island safe and sound and none the worse for their adventures.
‘No, we can’t do that,’ Beverley pointed out. ‘We can’t leave until the next low tide. Unless you expect us to swim!’
‘Oh lord!’ said Kevin, running his hands through his hair. He hadn’t thought about that. How could he possibly have forgotten? And now what was he going to do? How could he keep them out of the woman’s way all day?
Within yards, and around a bend that had hidden her from view only a moment ago, they almost stumbled across the recumbent form of Elizabeth, who appeared to have dozed off, right in the middle of the pathway. What a silly place to choose for a nap, thought Beverley, disapprovingly, though she knew of course that it didn’t really matter, as there weren’t any cars on the island to come and run her over.
‘Where’s Gerard?’ Beverley asked, sinking to the ground beside Elizabeth.
Groggily, Elizabeth levered herself onto one elbow and parted her hair – long since loosened from its plait – and peered out of it at Beverley. Then she winced, remembering her ankle as she woke up.
‘Gone back to the beach,’ she muttered. ‘He went to meet you two. And to get some supplies. It must be nearly lunchtime. I’m starving.’ She was fully awake now, and her voice was getting clearer. ‘In fact, I was starving a good half-an-hour ago. We didn’t have any elevenses.’
Elevenses! Only Elizabeth could expect elevenses on a deserted island in
the middle of the Atlantic ocean, inhabited by half-human seals and full of terrifying cliffs. In spite of herself, Beverley smiled. Still, she didn’t think it was a good idea for Elizabeth to have fallen asleep in the middle of what amounted to the road and let Gerard go roaming off over the island on his own. He was only eleven after all. And his health wasn’t great.
‘Why didn’t you go with him?’ she asked bossily.
‘Because of this!’ announced Elizabeth dramatically, pointing at her ankle, which by now had puffed up like a weird and horrible mushroom. ‘I tried crawling for a bit, but I got tired and my clothes started to tear. I must have fallen asleep. Was I asleep?’
‘Yes,’ said Beverley, examining the damaged ankle. ‘You’ve given this a right twist, haven’t you?’
‘It hurts like anything,’ said Elizabeth, ‘but only if I try to move it. Oh Beverley,’ she went on, her voice rising anxiously, ‘you don’t think we could get sort of stuck inside a story, do you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘My story, the one I told this morning, about the four children and one of them hurting her leg. It’s sort of coming true, isn’t it?’
‘Rubbish, Elizabeth. You’re letting your imagination run away with you.’
‘Don’t you think there’s a parallel?’ Elizabeth found it usually worked if you used scientific-sounding language with Beverley. It made her take you more seriously.
It worked.
‘Well, I suppose there is a parallel,’ Beverley agreed, ‘but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a coincidence.’ Beverley was a great believer in coincidence. She found it explained a lot of mysteries. Beverley didn’t like mysteries.
‘All the same,’ said Elizabeth dramatically, ‘I don’t think anyone should tell any stories about people being stranded on desert islands and starving to death and their bones being bleached in the sun.’
‘Don’t be silly, Liz. This isn’t a desert island, and there is absolutely no danger of anything bleaching in the sun in this climate.’
‘It’s warm today,’ Elizabeth pointed out lugubriously.
‘Just a fluke.’
Kevin broke into the girls’ conversation: ‘Here comes Gerard.’ He was standing up and had a better view down the green-dark tunnel of the path. He could just spot Gerard, a multi-coloured blur jogging along in the distance.
‘We could do with some of those wishberries now,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Mine would be tomato-sandwich-flavoured.’
‘No, we couldn’t,’ said Beverley briskly. She felt in control again, now that there was a little crisis to rise to. ‘Gerard’s on his way. He’ll have the food rucksack. We’ll have a lovely picnic and then we’ll have a think about what we’re going to do about your ankle.’
Gerard came closer. They could hear the pounding of his feet on the grassy path. Pretty soon they could hear his breathing, heavy and gasping. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his glasses were all steamed up. He gave off unpleasant odours as he flung himself down beside Elizabeth and drew in huge, gulping breaths. There was no sign of the food rucksack. Gerard carried nothing on his back but his hooded sweatshirt, the sleeves knotted loosely around his neck.
‘What happened you, Gerard?’ asked Kevin in alarm. ‘Didn’t you make it as far as the beach? Are you all right? Is somebody after chasing you?’
He fired out these questions at Gerard, but he wasn’t looking at him. He was peering in the direction Gerard had come from, half expecting to see a mad witch flying along after him waving a wand, or at least a stick.
Gerard nodded vigorously. Then he shook his head for good measure. He drew in an extra large gulp of air and spat it out again. With the outbreath came a spate of words:
‘Yes. Yes. No. Nobody. Just – had – to – run – Elizabeth – didn’t want – to – leave her – long. The tide – ’ Here he stopped again and took a few more long gulps of air. Elizabeth slapped him encouragingly on the back.
‘The tide,’ went on Gerard after a bit, ‘it’s come in. Right up the beach. It’s buried everything. All the food and stuff. Everything has just disappeared.’
‘Oh no!’ Everyone suddenly felt hungrier than ever at this news.
‘Not so much as a biscuit left,’ said Gerard dramatically. His breathing had settled down now, and he hadn’t had to use his inhaler.
‘But if the tide took it,’ reasoned Beverley, ‘then surely at least some of it must be floating on the water. Let’s go and fish it out and see what we can save. At least the tinned stuff couldn’t be too badly damaged.’
‘No,’ said Gerard. ‘I’m telling you, there’s no point. There isn’t a single thing left. Nothing is floating on the water.’
‘Well, then, the tide can’t have taken it,’ argued Beverley. She looked around at the others for their opinion.
Elizabeth and Kevin exchanged a look. They’d both had the same thought. Maybe the tide hadn’t taken the food after all. Maybe it had been a person who’d taken it. A person who didn’t appreciate her island being invaded by outsiders.
‘Everything is gone,’ Gerard went on, as if to make quite sure they’d all understood him. ‘Rucksacks, food, spare clothes, saucepans, everything.’
‘I said it would be good to have some wishberries,’ wailed Elizabeth. ‘And I was right! O-o-o-h! Just think of all our lovely food drifting off on the waves!’ She glared at Kevin as she said this, as if warning him not to mention the possibility that had crossed both their minds.
‘Ah sure maybe the seals will find it,’ said Kevin, playing along.
‘What seals?’ asked Elizabeth, but nobody bothered to answer her.
‘Most of it wouldn’t be much good to them,’ said Beverley, who always saw the logical flaws in things, ‘unless they have developed the knack of using their flippers as tin-openers.’
‘I wish we had those boiled eggs,’ moaned Elizabeth.
‘And the bananas,’ added Gerard sadly. He was very fond of bananas.
‘It’s not even autumn,’ said Beverley, pulling lumps of tattered curls through her fingers in a characteristic gesture of distress.
‘How do you mean?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘You know, blackberries, mushrooms, that sort of thing.’
‘Haws,’ added Kevin absently.
‘Haws!’ yelped Elizabeth. ‘You can’t eat haws, can you?’
‘Indeed and you can,’ said Kevin, who went in for nature, ‘if you’re hungry. They don’t taste great, though,’ he added honestly.
‘I don’t think I could ever be hungry enough to eat haws,’ said Elizabeth, wrinkling her nose.
‘I could be,’ said Gerard. ‘In fact, I think I probably am. If there were any. But wait – what about that lunch Elizabeth packed? Beverley and Kevin, you took that rucksack, didn’t you? What happened to it? Don’t tell me you’ve eaten it all?’
‘No, no,’ said Kevin. ‘We didn’t eat it – it sort of got lost. I mean, eh, we know where it is, but it’s beyond on the other side of the island.’ He didn’t mention the vertigo attack, Beverley noticed, and she was grateful he didn’t blame her.
Nobody volunteered to go and get the rucksack. They were all too hot, despondent, hungry.
‘We could fish,’ said Gerard vaguely.
‘With this garden candle, flare, whatever you call it, I suppose,’ said Elizabeth tartly.
‘Umm,’ conceded Gerard. It hadn’t been a very bright idea really.
‘Or harvest snails,’ said Elizabeth excitedly, ‘like French people.’
‘No, we couldn’t do that,’ Beverley pointed out. ‘You have to feed them flour to clean out their insides, and we haven’t got any of that.’
‘Sand might do,’ suggested Gerard.
‘Well, it might work,’ said Beverley, practically, ‘but I don’t see how you could get them to eat it.’
‘I don’t think I like this island very much,’ said Elizabeth, pouting. Her ankle was throbbing, and she was hungry, and she had this w
eird feeling that somebody was watching them all the time, and now there was no food and no way of getting any, not even snails or haws, and she didn’t see how she was going to walk home. She wished she had never agreed to Beverley’s putrid plan. She knew all along there was something spooky about this place, and she was just about to say so, when Gerard spoke.
‘There’s always the emergency chocolate rations,’ he said tentatively, half-afraid the girls would jump on him for suggesting such a thing in what wasn’t exactly a life-and-death situation.
‘Gerard, you genius!’ exclaimed Beverley unexpectedly. ‘You absolute angel! You’re absolutely stupendous, that’s what you are!’
‘Am I?’ asked Gerard, pleased, taking out his chocolate bar. It was a write-off – all melted and distorted from his hot and sweaty run. Kevin’s was only partially melted, and Beverley’s was quite respectable. Elizabeth’s was in the best condition. She had taken off her jacket and flung it in the cool ditch, so the chocolate had hardly melted at all.
‘Let’s eat mine,’ Elizabeth suggested, ‘and put Kevin’s and Beverley’s in the ditch to cool off. I suppose we could put this mangled mess of Gerard’s in the ditch too, and if we get really desperate we could sort of suck it out of the silver paper.’
‘Good idea,’ agreed Beverley, already dividing Elizabeth’s chocolate ration into four.
Everyone took their share gratefully. They ate it carefully, savouring the sweet ooze of it in their mouths.
‘This is nice,’ said Gerard, ‘isn’t it?’
‘Oh yes, it’s great,’ said Elizabeth sarcastically. ‘Here we are stuck on an island. I can’t walk. I can’t even get very far on all fours. We have no food except some chocolate. It’s very nice chocolate, but it’s not exactly lunch, is it? And we haven’t got anything to drink either. This is just nice and cosy, Gerard, sure it is. It’s just great. I vote we do this every day.’
‘Oh shut up, Elizabeth,’ snapped Beverley. ‘Things are bad enough without you pointing it out like that.’
‘I’m only telling the truth,’ said Elizabeth huffily.
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