by Lucy Gillen
Kim stared at the crack, for it was no more, in the vastness of the cliff face, her eyes blank with disbelief. "But —but he can't be," she objected.
Ronnie shrugged, as if he had known all along she would not believe him. "That's where he is," he assured her, still apparently unconcerned about his brother's fate. "Lee went in after him."
"But it's too small." Kim bent low and peered into the crevice, starting nervously when she met the shiny gaze of a pair of eyes that looked rather less confident than Ronnie's. "Lee !"
"Hello." The voice sounded very small and a bit frightened and the eyes blinked as if tears were not far off. As far as Kim could tell, there appeared to be a small, hollowed-out space behind the crevice just big enough for Lee to stand in.
"Lee, how on earth did you get in there?" It was more
important, she realised a second later, how he was to get out of there, and Ronnie and Terry were both watching her hopefully, obviously expecting her to produce a solution, which at the moment refused to materialise.
"I — I can't get out," Lee informed her, his voice sounding flat and dead in the echoless acoustics of the rock. "I'm stuck, Kim, I want to get out." The tears were flowing in earnest now and Kim felt rather like crying herself as she peered in at the small face and its glistening eyes.
"Now don't you worry," she consoled him, suppressing her own panic with difficulty, "we'll have you out soon enough. Be a good boy and don't cry."
"I'm not — not crying," Lee assured her, snuffling earnnestly between words. "Get me out, Kim, get me out !"
"We could pull him out head first," Ronnie suggested, with more enthusiasm than sympathy, and Kim frowned at him discouragingly.
"How did he get in there?" Kim asked, wondering if the way in could also be the way out, but Ronnie's reaction was discouraging.
"I don't know," he told her, "I s'pose he just crawled in."
Kim eyed him doubtfully and he refused to look at her. "Ronnie!" She took him by his arm and shook him hard. "You sent him in there, didn't you?"
Ronnie looked obstinate, his face set in an uncanny miniature of his uncle. "He went in after —"
"Stop it!" Kim shook him really hard this time and she saw from his expression that he at last realised she meant business.
"He only put his head in first," he told her, "then he sort of wriggled."
It was far less helpful than Kim had hoped for and she sighed. "Oh well, we'll just have to try and get him out
the same way." She tried to sound more cheerful than she felt, mostly for Terry's benefit, for the little, doll-like face was already crumpling into tears and one small fist was pushed into her mouth.
"Lee, Lee !" Her pathetic wail set Kim's teeth on edge and she knelt beside her on the sand, seeking to console her. "I'm f'ightened," Terry sobbed, "I wan' go home, I wan' go home ! "
"We'll go home just as soon as we can get Lee out of there," Kim promised, wondering at her own optimism. How to get Lee out of the crevice was something that loomed before her like an insurmountable obstacle, and she wondered vaguely how James Fleming would deal with it. Thinking of their uncle reminded her of the race that must soon be starting, and she found that as a way to keep the other two children occupied while she strove to free their brother.
"Why don't you watch for the boats coming along?" she suggested hopefully. "You'll probably see your uncle if you watch carefully, won't you?"
"James is in the race," Ronnie agreed, suddenly and surprisingly cooperative. "Come on, Terry, let's go an' look for him." He was all too ready to forget his brother completely in the promised excitement and pulled his sister along to the nearest rocks to gain a better vantage point.
"Be careful on those rocks," Kim warned, terrified of further accidents. "I don't want to have to rescue you and Terry as well."
"We're O.K.," Ronnie assured her with unfailing optimism.
They found a place atop a conveniently flat-surfaced rock and Kim helped them up, settling them safely, at least for the time being.
"Now don't move until I come for you," she warned,
"and don't you let Terry fall off, Ronnie, or I shall be very cross."
It was only as she turned to go back to Lee imprisoned in the rock that she noticed something else that made the colour drain from her face and widened her eyes in horror. The strip of sand they had walked round to gain the cove was now completely covered with water and the tide was rapidly coming in up the steeply shelved beach to cut them off. It would need a miracle to make the cove high and dry, and she hastily looked for signs that the beach was not entirely covered at high tide.
It was something of a relief to find that the sand above the steepness of the incline was drier and not clingily damp as it was lower down. In the meantime nothing must panic the children, and Ronnie in particular, since his matter-of-fact acceptance of things would in all probability prove her own source of strength.
"Ronnie," she said, as calmly as she knew how, "if you see any boats out there you wave your hands, won't you? You and Terry, wave as hard as you like so that they see you, hmm?"
Ronnie nodded, only too willing to agree, and Kim prayed earnestly that someone, anyone at all would see them and realise their predicament. Anyone who knew the coast at all well would recognise how dangerous it was and would no doubt either come and fetch them or summon other help. In the meantime she had, somehow, to try and free Lee from the rock.
It was with some relief, when she got back to him, to find him more indignant at not being able to see the race with the other two than tearful about his imprisonment. "I wanted to see the race too," he protested when Kim came within earshot, and the effect of the protest in a flat little voice, coming from a slit in the rock, almost had her
laughing, although she realised that it was mostly near hysteria that prompted it.
"If you hadn't been such a silly and got yourself in there," she told him, "you could have seen the race. As it is you'll have to wait until I get you out." She peered in at him and once again felt the overwhelming sensation of hopelessness.
She put her hands inside the slit and Lee, rather touchingly, grasped it tight as if it gave him comfort, so that she felt more like crying than laughing. She was vaguely aware of the distant buzz of powerful engines in the still air, a sound that grew louder unbelievably fast.
She withdrew her hand from Lee's clasp and looked back over her shoulder at Ronnie and Terry still safely atop their rock perch. "Don't forget to wave if you see anyone," she called, and Ronnie nodded eagerly, getting to his feet the better to be seen. There was no time to scold him in to sitting down again, for the snarl of the racing engines was quite close now and he was dancing up and down in his excitement.
She turned back to Lee, no more sure how to free him than she had ever been, only aware that now the sounds from behind the rock were definitely sobs and she could not even get to him to console him.
"James is coming!" It was Ronnie's cry of triumph that turned her head and she stared for a moment in blank horror, knowing what that meant and guessing too how James Fleming would react when he saw his nephew standing on a rock waving to him.
"He — he's coming here?" she asked, and Ronnie nodded.
"He saw us waving, me and Terry, and he's coming over here. Here he comes, here he comes !"
His excitement knew no bounds, but to Kim the rapidly
nearing motor-boat seemed like the roaring juggernaut George had christened it. She could not see it as a vessel of rescue, only of vengeance, and she stared in dismay at the boat racing inshore towards them. "He was the first one to come," Ronnie informed her, delighted with the fact, while Kim could only nod dumbly, her eyes blank with dismay.
It was only seconds before the powerful engine was cut and the boat drawn alongside the rocks, for where the beach had shelved the water was now easily deep enough to take the boat and Kim sighed at the hindsight that made it so obvious. She should have known and recognised the reason for the sharp inclin
e and for the dampness of the sand as they came round the rocks into the cove. It never had time to dry between tides.
She straightened up from beside. Lee's prison as James Fleming came striding across the sand towards them, his frown as black as thunder, the roar of the other boats speeding past, echoing against the cliffs as if in mockery, and Kim quaked inwardly.
Ronnie and Terry, unaware of his anger or the cause of it, ran to meet him and he even managed a slow smile for them, which said much for his self-control, lifting little Terry into his arms, his gaze fixed darkly and accusingly on Kim.
"I'm — I'm sorry." She did not wait for him to speak first, but met his eyes, her own appealing, knowing how he must be feeling to hear those boats roaring past, most of them now almost out of earshot.
"What in the name of heaven," he demanded, "made you come here?"
"It looked nice, and quite safe, or I wouldn't have brought them." She was already attempting to justify herself, but she knew it would be little use, for it had without doubt been her own fault and no one else's.
"Didn't you realise you'd be cut off at high tide ?" "Of course not," Kim replied. "I — I didn't realise."
He looked down at Ronnie and frowned again. "Where's
Lee?"
Kim hardly dared tell him, indeed she was not required to, for Ronnie was only too eager to supply the answer. "He went in after Captain Blood and got stuck," he announced brightly, and James looked at Kim for explanation, his expression discouraging.
"He — I'm afraid he's got himself stuck in a crack in the rock," she told him, not daring to look at him, but looking as guilty as any of the children could have done.
"He's what?" The gaze of his light grey eyes was so compelling that she was forced to raise her own.
"He's in there." She pointed to the narrow crevice behind which she could almost feel Lee waiting for his uncle's wrath to descend on him.
He put Terry down carefully on the sand, standing with his hands on his hips, looking down at her as if she was one of the children and gifted with no more sense. "You've really had a good time, haven't you?" he declared. "What else has happened?"
"Nothing else." She felt bound to defend herself at least in part, especially since Ronnie was eyeing her speculatively in a way that recognised her as a fellow wrongdoer. "We were having a good time until Lee got stuck in there."
"Except that you'd have been stranded for heaven knows how long," he retorted scornfully. "And you're the one who told me I wasn't fit to be in charge of children !" She did not retort as he obviously expected her to, and she thought he might even have been disappointed at her lack of response. "Oh well," he sighed resignedly, "we'd better see about extracting Lee from his trap."
"I — I read somewhere once," Kim ventured warily,
"that if you turn the child round so that there's no resistance from his ears, it's easier."
Surprisingly he almost smiled. "Clever girl," he told her, with only a hint of sarcasm. "I wonder you didn't put it into operation earlier."
"I — I was a bit wary in case I hurt him," she replied, and he raised his eyes to heaven.
"You can't make omelettes without breaking eggs," he informed her with what she thought was a callous disregard for poor Lee's comfort.
He bent and brought his eyes level with the hopeful gaze inside the rock. "We'll have you out in no time at all, old son," he informed him with a confidence Kim felt was not assumed as her own had been. "Face me and push your head through," he instructed, and there were faint scrabbling sounds as Lee moved to obey. "Come on," his uncle encouraged, "head first."
A second later a small tousled head appeared, the face dusty and tear-streaked but unutterably relieved. "Right, now turn yourself sideways," James told him, still quite matter-of-factly. The little face puckered in concentration and he squirmed and wriggled for a few seconds, then looked hopefully at James, who grinned encouragingly at him. "Now push with your feet," he was told.
He must have used his legs with every ounce of his strength, for a second later he came out of the crevice until only his feet were still trapped. "Right," James instructed him confidently, "now turn on to your back, old son, and get your feet out. O.K.?"
Lee nodded eagerly, puffing and blowing as he turned on to his back. Once turned, James pulled him out, with such ease that Kim stared unbelievingly and Lee's eyes blinked in wonder at being free at last.
"I'm out!" He lay for a moment on the sand, quite en
joying his moment of notoriety, Kim thought wryly, with James rubbing his tousled head consolingly. It was obvious who was going to be held responsible for the incident, and Kim already felt guiltily miserable about it.
"I — I should have been able to cope like that," she ventured, and James turned a far from complimentary gaze on her.
"I did warn you," he reminded her. "There's more to looking after a ready-made family than sweet smiles and soothing noises. You also need eyes in the back of your head and the ability to be in two places at once."
"I suppose you do." She looked so utterly dejected at her failure as a guardian that he half smiled.
"Oh, you'll learn," he said, but without much conviction. "Now, if everybody's ready, I'll get you back to civilisation."
He lifted Terry into his arms again and Lee held on to Kim's hand with touching confidence, considering all things. Ronnie brought up the rear, the only one obviously reluctant to leave the cove.
It was not unreasonable for James to be angry, Kim thought, as she covertly glanced at his still disapproving face, but she wished she did not feel so childishly tearful as they all trooped down to the boat.
He deposited Terry safely, then helped the two boys in and finally turned to look at Kim, still standing on the rock. There was a hard, half scornful look in the light eyes when he looked at her and she lowered her own hastily, partly to hide the mist of tears in them.
"I've a damned good mind to leave you here until the next low tide and let you walk back," he informed her, hands on hips, his mouth grim.
Kim swallowed hard on the tears of reaction that threatened and shook her head. "You can do as you like, Mr.
Fleming. I know you're angry and to a certain extent I don't blame you, so if you think it will do any good, by all means leave me here."
He looked at her steadily for a moment, as if he was considering it as a possibility, then a single tear escaped and rolled dismally down her face, plopping on to her hand. "Come on." Hands reached up for her and swung her down into the boat, holding her longer than was necessary to steady her against the sway of the tide. "Baby !" His lips brushed her face briefly and he shepherded the children up close between them before starting the engine.
He made no effort to go full out on the way to Woodsea, but took the boat fairly well inshore and beyond the marker buoys that indicated the course of the race. It must have been a bitter pill for him to swallow, Kim thought, as they skirted the buoys, and she could have wished that almost anyone else had come along first.
There were a few more people than usual about when they tied up at the pier in Woodsea, although the race was over as far as they were concerned, and one or two looked at James curiously as he unloaded his passengers.
He walked with them as far as Summer House and there stopped by the gate. "I'll take them into Mrs. Pannet," he told her. "She'll cope until I get back."
"Please," Kim ventured, "I can have them."
He studied her woebegone face dubiously. "I'd have thought you'd had enough for one day," he told her. "Mrs. Pannet's used to them, she won't mind."
"Oh, please let them stay with me !" She looked as soulful as any of the children and she thought she saw a hint of his more normal laughter in his eyes.
"O.K.," he agreed at last, "if you're sure. I suppose none of you can get into much mischief under your aunt's watchful eye, can you?"
As if on cue, Aunt Bess opened the door and if she was surprised to see them all there, she did not show it, but welcomed
the children with genuine delight.
"I'll be in in a moment, Aunt Bess," Kim told her, "I — I just want a word with Mr. Fleming."
Kim felt very small and vulnerable as she turned and faced him again, and she could more than ever sympathise with the boys when they had earned their uncle's wrath. He could look very overpowering when he was angry as he had been at the cove, his usually light eyes a dark, stormy grey that was positively frightening, at least now they looked more normal, although hardly encouraging.
They were standing in the shelter of the high hedge that separated the two front gardens and he looked more impatient than angry at the moment. "I hope this won't take long," he told her discouragingly. "I have a party waiting for me in Dimsea, although it won't be quite the same now."
"I'm — I'm sorry."
"So you said before," he told her.
"Well, I am!" She felt herself growing angry and rued the inevitability of it. Angry too because the tears she had fought so hard to resist now stood bright and glistening in her eyes.
"Well, you don't have to get so upset about it," he insisted. "Here!" A large white handkerchief was pushed into her hand and she automatically took it, blew her nose and wiped her eyes.
"Thank you."
"Feeling better?" She nodded, though in truth she felt more miserable than ever. Not only had she spoiled George's day by not going with him, but the children's and James Fleming's as well. She was utterly and inconsolably sorry for herself, and the fact that he was already turning
to go did not help matters.
"James !" He spun round sharply, almost as if he had been waiting for her to call him back, the light eyes glistening with some indefinable expression. "I — I didn't want it to turn out like this. I mean I didn't mean to spoil George's plans and I didn't want you to lose the race."
"I'd wallop you if I thought you did," he told her darkly, smiling in a way that made her cheeks colour hotly.