Dolphin Child (20 page)

‘
You could ask Thelma to get a message to this boy Paul’ she
said. ‘Thelma knows his Mum so she probably knows where he lives
too. Your Dad likes Thelma too. They had long involved
conversations about something or other the last time your Dad was
down here when you saved Spirit. I reckon that’s your best
bet.’

‘
That’s a good idea’ replied Lucy, but even as she said so, she
wondered whether she really wanted Mrs Treddinick to know. ‘But I
don’t know if I’ll see Thelma in time. Could you call her for
me?’

‘
Oh I expect so’ said Bethany, ‘but I can’t guarantee I’ll be
able to get a message to your friend Paul’. Bethany glanced at her
wrist watch. ‘Off you go now’ said Bethany. ‘Your father will be
waiting for you’. Lucy ran up the lane to where Dad was waiting for
her in the car, the engine idling.

‘
You ready?’ he asked brightly. ‘Then hop in.’

In Merwater Dad was in no hurry to get to the minimarket and
suggested wandering down the main road first and around the small
harbour to soak in the sights and smells. Lucy didn’t mind. She
thought perhaps they’d bump into Thelma or Nate if they
did.

It was still early in the day and so the town was still
relatively quiet. The tourists would arrive later in the morning.
Down at the harbour’s edge she looked for Nate’s boat the Lady
Thelma, but it was not there. Nate and his first mate Bob must have
been out tending to their lobster pots. Dad was obviously enjoying
wandering around the small, picturesque town and they chatted
inconsequentially about this and that as they walked. It was nice
to be with Dad she realised. It felt a bit like old
times.

They nosed around one or two of the shops full of nick-nacks
and curios on sale to the tourists, before coming to the gallery
where some of Bethany’s work was displayed. There in the window was
a large oil-painting by Bethany of a stormy, buffeted sea and in
it, a tiny figure of a girl swimming, swimming through the huge
waves. Dad studied it silently for a long time. Lucy wondered if it
affected him as it had affected her the first time she had seen it.
Eventually Dad reached out and gave Lucy’s hand a short tight
squeeze.

‘
Come on’ he said eventually, ‘let’s go and get those
groceries.’ They started walking back up the road and Dad wiped
something from his eye. Was it a tear Lucy wondered? She couldn’t
be quite sure.

In the mini market they both grabbed a hand-basket and
wandered round the aisles. Dad said he didn’t want to buy more than
the bare minimum, but before they knew it, both baskets were nearly
full. They rounded the corner, looking for bread-rolls.

‘
Why Lucy!’ exclaimed a voice. Lucy looked up from the shelf
she was looking at.

‘
Mrs Penhaligon! What are you doing here?’ It was Lucy’s
English teacher from school. She’d barely thought about school
since they broke up for the holidays and to her surprise here was
one of her teachers in front of her in the mini market.

‘
Well I’m from these parts originally and I’ve just come down
to see my family and enjoy a bit of the sea air.’ She smiled at
Dad.

‘
Mr Parr, you have a very pleasant and hardworking daughter. If
she keeps it up I’ve no doubt she’ll do very well.’ Lucy blushed
for a moment, but then a more powerful and compelling thought
overcame her.

‘
Mrs Penhaligon, are you related to Susan Penhaligon?’ she
asked with a serious tone to her voice. Dad glanced in his
daughter’s direction, clearly wondering who Susan Penhaligon was.
Mrs Penhaligon laughed lightly.

‘
No Lucy. Penhaligon is a good Cornish name. Lots of people are
called Penhaligon round here’.

‘
But in class you told us the story of the girl on the island
and the fisherman and how it is said that they both became
dolphins. And it was Susan Penhaligon here in Merwater who
persuaded the children to swim out to sea to become dolphins all
those years ago.’ Her teacher smiled, but her answer was thoughtful
and serious.

‘
Yes you are right, but the name is nothing more than a
coincidence. I am a Penhaligon by marriage only. There are stories
of people and dolphins which stretch back hundreds of years. I know
that you love dolphins, but I only gave that story in class as a
piece of interesting folklore. I never imagined I’d be chatting to
you in a minimarket in Merwater about local history!’

Dad shifted uneasily. He was obviously surprised by the turn
the conversation had suddenly taken.

‘
But…’ stuttered Lucy.

‘
Luce do stop quizzing poor Mrs Penhaligon. She’s on holiday
too after all’ he said with an apologetic glance towards her
teacher. Mrs Penhaligon smiled again.

‘
It’s been nice to see you Lucy. I do hope that you and your
father have a lovely holiday here.’ She hesitated a moment and then
said goodbye and walked off down the aisle.

After they went through the check-out, Dad asked Lucy to wait
with two bags of shopping whilst he took the other two to the car.
Lucy had felt strangely put out by having seen Mrs Penhaligon. In
class she’d felt that her teacher knew more than she cared to say
and that they’d had a sort of special connection. She felt that Mrs
Penhaligon knew about dolphins. Here in Merwater her teacher’s
comments had been bland and empty. Lucy adjusted the bags at her
feet. It didn’t make sense.

‘
Lucy while your Dad’s away for a moment I just wanted to say
something.’ Mrs Penhaligon suddenly appeared at her side again and
spoke in a low urgent tone. ‘I think that you have a special gift’
she said, looking at Lucy. ‘Yes, I can see it there in your eyes. I
know more about Susan Penhaligon and local dolphin folklore than I
cared to let on back there. I have an idea your father is not as
receptive to such talk as you are. But you are not like Susan
Penhaligon all those years ago. You can make your own destiny. You
just need to believe in yourself’. She touched Lucy lightly on the
arm.

‘
I’m helping out most days at my sister’s gift shop just down
the road’ she said pressing a business card into Lucy’s palm. Do
drop in and see me if you can’ she said. With that she slipped
away. Just then Dad came back for the last two shopping
bags.

‘
You ready Luce?’ he asked.

Chapter Twelve:

Paul lent his bike against the stone wall surrounding the
grave yard of the church at the end of Bussey Lane. He was wearing
his favourite tee-shirt shirt and a pair of baggy khaki shorts. The
church was small and stumpy with a pitched slate roof and low
tower. It squatted at the convergence of two roads, just on the
edge of Merwater where the countryside started.

Lichen-covered grave stones stood drunkenly at regular
intervals in the graveyard, their lettering so old that it had all
but worn away. Flowers and nettles sprouted up in the corners where
nature was always poised to take over if it was left unattended for
more than a few weeks. This was a good place to search for insects
and twice Paul had found a slow-worm, a short legless lizard that
looked like a snake, sunning itself on a gravestone.

Paul glanced at his watch. It was a quarter past twelve. He
thought Lucy would be here by now. A car droned by, as sleepily as
a bumble bee. Paul rubbed his knee. It was cut and grazed. Mum had
sent him to the corner shop for a pint of milk that morning. She’d
wanted him to buy a pack of cigarettes for her as well, but the man
in the shop said it wasn’t allowed. He’d cut across the recreation
ground on the way back. Baz and Mike had come up behind him and
stuck out a leg to trip him up. He’d fallen sprawling on the tarmac
path while the milk carton had hit the ground and started leaking
milk onto the earth. Paul’s knee stung and started to
bleed.

‘
Ooh Paulie, you’re so careless’ jeered Mike.

‘
Get off of me’ Paul yelled back, ‘or I’ll…’

‘
Or you’ll what?’ sneered Baz as he kicked the milk carton into
a shrub. Paul didn’t know how to finish his sentence, so he didn’t
say anything. He wanted to say ‘You don’t know anything about me, I
swum with a dolphin yesterday’ but something stopped him just in
time. He got up and retrieved the milk carton, which by now was
half empty and limped off home. Mum was annoyed both for the split
carton and the fact that he’d come back without her cigarettes. At
least his bike was working again and he’d be able to escape for the
entire afternoon.

Paul looked at his watch again. It was almost half past twelve
and there was still no sign of Lucy. She’d been so insistent that
he take her to the dolphin lagoon and now she wasn’t here. He
wondered what had happened to her. Maybe she hadn’t been able to
find the church, or perhaps she’d just been winding him up. It
wouldn’t be the first time that someone had played a trick on him
like that.

He sighed. There was something in the graveyard he wanted to
show her. It was the grave of Susan Penhaligon, tucked away in the
undergrowth near the crumbling wall, marked by a lopsided
headstone.. That’s why he’d suggested meeting here. ‘Well, it’s her
loss’ he thought. He’d strapped his school lunch box onto the back
of his bike. Now he took it off and got out his sandwiches wrapped
in cling film. He munched at a cheese sandwich
disconsolately.

He still couldn’t get over having swum in the sea with Spirit
the day before. It had been more amazing than he had ever imagined.
The dolphin had looked at him with such calm, understanding eyes
that he felt like Spirit had been reading his soul. It made him
feel as though he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He’d
never felt such a connection with another living creature before,
not even the dog they’d had before Dad had left home.

Paul wondered why Lucy was a Dolphin-Child and not him. It
wasn’t fair, like the way it wasn’t fair that some kids were
brought up in big comfortable homes with everything they wanted,
while other kids felt miserable, neglected and poor. Maybe he could
learn how to become a Dolphin-Child too he thought. He wanted to
find out more about it from Lucy and then perhaps he’d learn the
secret too.

Mum was weird about Lucy and told him to keep away from her,
but after he’d swum with Spirit yesterday he knew that he couldn’t.
He just wouldn’t tell Mum. That meant he couldn’t tell anyone else
either and that was something that was going to be really difficult
for him. He was just dying to show off to someone about it, but he
knew he had to keep it to himself.

By a quarter past one he decided that Lucy was not going to
turn up after all. He felt lonely and let down. He thought he’d
just embarked on a special adventure with a new friend, but now it
seemed that maybe it had ended before it had even properly begun.
Perhaps even now Lucy was laughing about him with the other
kids.

He wondered what he should do now. After what had happened
with Baz and Mike that morning, he certainly couldn’t face going
back home and risk encountering them again. He decided to head on
out to the lagoon all by himself. He’d show Lucy.

Paul climbed on his bike and pedalled off slowly down the
road. It dipped down at first and Paul was able to free-wheel, the
wind fresh on his face. Then at the bottom the road narrowed into a
lane. A small hump backed bridge carried the lane over a stream and
up a wooded hill on the other side. Paul panted as he cycled up the
hill, but the trees provided dappled shade as he went. Once he got
to the top the lane flattened out and Paul came out into the bright
sunlight again as it proceeded through fields. Cows grazed on one
side of the hedge and horses ambled in the field on the other side
of the road. A farm track peeled off to the left and Paul cycled
on, swerving to avoid the occasional pot-hole as he
went.

Eventually Paul came to the point where the lane passed
through a short narrow tunnel under a raised railway track on an
earth embankment. As far as Paul knew, trains hadn’t run along here
for decades and the slope and verge was like a long green wall
linking one hill to the next.

On the other side of the short tunnel Paul got off his bike
and turned off on to a path that led up to where the railway tracks
had once been. A track ran along the top between saplings and small
trees that had established themselves there. He left his bike
hidden behind a bush and walked on until he left the railway track
and plunged down a slope, past the stinging nettles to a long stone
wall. It stood, taller than a full grown man and ran along the edge
of the railway for as far as the eye could see before it curved
round out of sight. The wall enclosed a private estate and was half
overgrown with ivy and had ferns growing out of it periodically
along the top. Paul could see that at one time the wall had
crumbled and fallen down in a couple of places, but in recent years
it had been repaired with fresh concrete and stones.

Along the top of the wall was sprinkled broken glass, set into
the render, but the last time he had come he had climbed a tree to
where he had access to the top of the wall and then beat the glass
flat with a stone he’d found at the base.

It was up the same tree that Paul climbed again. He inched
along the branch towards the wall. It bent alarmingly under his
weight but he was soon standing on the top of the wall. There was
nothing for it but to jump. It felt scarily high at the top but the
ground below was thick with pine needles. He imagined there were
guards patrolling the grounds that he had to evade.