Read Ghost of a Chance Online

Authors: Pam Harvey

Ghost of a Chance (4 page)

A loud crack of thunder burst overhead.

‘Time to find us some shelter,’ Angus said, leaning over into the pit to help E.D. scramble out. ‘Looks like we’re stuck here for a while.’

‘There’s another choice,’ said E.D. as he appeared over the edge.

‘What?’ Angus fell back.

E.D. grinned. ‘Feel like a swim, Gab?’

Chapter 6

Sunday, 19 December, morning

Gabby glared at E.D. ‘There is no
way
you’ll get me swimming—’

‘Or else we stay on this island with a storm about to erupt, an open grave, a skeleton and some very spooky sounds.’

‘Well, I haven’t got my bathers,’ Gabby said hastily, looking out at the water which had suddenly grown choppy.

‘Of course. You’re just a pool swimmer.’ E.D. shook his head. ‘Not strong enough for oceans and currents and a couple of waves. Ever done an open water swim, Gab?’

‘Hey, I’ll have you know that I came second in—’

‘Well, get out there and do it, Gab! We need a boat here and we need it quick.’ The sky rumbled
right on cue. ‘Anyway, real swimmers can do it in their clothes.’

‘And E.D. will promise to never kiss you again, won’t you E.D?’ Angus nudged his friend.

‘Did I say that?’

‘Come on, Gabby,’ Ling said, leading her by the arm back towards the beach. ‘It won’t take you long at all.’

Gabby gave E.D. a shrivelling look and followed Ling.

‘We’re going to get drenched,’ Daniel said, looking up at the clouds.

‘You want to go back down there then?’ Angus nodded towards the hole.

‘God, no,’ Daniel said, shivering.

‘Come on. Let’s fill the grave as well as we can. It isn’t right leaving it open.’ E.D. picked up the shovel and started pushing the earth and wood back into the hole.

Down at the shoreline, Gabby had taken off her jumper, socks and shoes and was wading out into the water.

‘Are you sure you’ll be okay, Gab?’ Hannah called, suddenly nervous. She didn’t like the look of the sea and the rain was getting heavier.

‘This is what I train for,’ Gabby yelled back, giving the girls a final wave. ‘It should only take
me about seven minutes. Tell E.D. he’ll be eating a hot breakfast in half an hour.’

Ignoring the cold water numbing her legs, Gabby started wading in until the water was up to her thighs. Then she duck-dived out into deeper water. Squeezing her eyes shut, she began a graceful stroke, but it didn’t take long for the waves to take their toll. Soon Gabby was spending as much time with her head out of the water, checking on her direction, as she was gliding through it.

A hunk of seaweed brushed her waist and she veered to the right, opening her mouth and taking in a huge gulp of sea water. She felt the first tinge of fear.

Come on, Gab, she said to herself, pausing. She was almost halfway there. This is water—your element. A 400-metre swim for you is a walk down to the letter box and back for anyone else.

Gabby thought she heard a yell from the island behind her but she didn’t turn. She began swimming again, her long, easy strokes slowly pushing into the current running against her.

Then suddenly she froze. Something soft, yet slightly prickly, had brushed her side. It didn’t
feel like seaweed. Too frightened to turn and look, she put on a burst of speed.

Don’t look up, she said to herself. It was just your shirt, flapping against your side. But Gabby knew that it wasn’t. And then the word that she’d managed to keep out of her head for the last four and a half minutes suddenly shot into her mind.

Shark.

A wave of panic swept through her and for the first time in her life Gabby felt real fear in the water. Now she had to look; the thought of not knowing was too much. She stopped swimming for a moment and listened, then slowly turned.

Gabby felt her stomach almost fall from under her as she saw a large, black shape swooping through the water 5 metres to her left. She froze in shock, staring at the smooth shadow gliding effortlessly just below the surface of the waves.

Glancing quickly at the boats and small pier only a couple of hundred of metres away, Gabby kicked out with every muscle of her body, setting a course for the boats.

Don’t look up until your head hits a boat, she thought, her long arms wheeling through the air
then pulling against the water with all the strength she could muster. But after twenty frantic strokes, she felt a sharp pain in her left leg. Cramp. Her leg tensed as a jolt of pain grabbed at her calf muscle. Gabby was swimming but making no headway at all. It was as if someone had lassoed a rope around both her feet.

Again Gabby stopped, a wave of nausea rising in her throat as she swung her head from side to side, looking for the black shape. And then the sea surged and a bolt of lightning suddenly lit the sky.

She felt herself roll to the side as she reached down to grab her leg, desperately trying to massage the stiffness from her calf. Slowly the pain subsided. She stretched her leg taut and counted to five, waiting for the cramp to completely disappear before setting off again.

For the first time she became aware of the rain sweeping across the ocean. Trying to keep her head out of the water, Gabby kept stretching the leg that had cramped, willing the pain to stay away.

Fifty strokes, she thought, that’s all. With her head down, Gabby pounded through the sea, stroke after stroke, slowly bridging the gap
between her and the three or four boats that were bobbing in the water.

Her arms and legs were aching and she was nearing exhaustion when finally she felt the gentle push of a wave suddenly lift her slightly higher in the water.

Gabby swam for her life, and when her hands finally scraped sand, she thought she might cry with happiness.

She dragged herself out of the water and onto the sand. There was no one around. She wiped her face and tossed her hair around before limping up the beach to a small shed.

‘Hello?’ she called.

‘Closed,’ a gruff voice called from behind a boat. The smell of paint was overpowering and Gabby lurched away, vomiting sea water onto the grass. Taking some deep breaths to steady herself, she walked back to the boat shed. A clap of thunder shook the tin building.

‘Listen here,’ she shouted into the gloom. ‘You need to take me over to the island. Now!’

‘I’ll do no such—’

‘There are four of my friends over there, and someone who has hurt his leg.’ She waited for the man’s reply, but instead his grizzly face appeared from behind the boat.

‘Blast them kids,’ he grunted, wiping his hands and putting on a raincoat. He appeared to notice Gabby for the first time. ‘And I suppose you’re going to tell me that you swum over to raise the alarm?’

‘Are there sharks out there?’ Gabby asked, ignoring his question and following the man down to a long white boat with a huge black motor at the back.

‘Sharks? Haven’t seen a shark in the bay in thirty years,’ he said. ‘Plenty of seals, though. Now you go and get yourself warm, girlie. I’ll bring the rest of your friends back.’

Gabby watched the boat motoring away, then walked briskly back to Spray Cottage. She was glad that no one saw her as she snuck in the back way.

By the time she was out of the shower the others had returned.

‘I know, I know,’ Gabby said, holding her arms up. ‘But don’t hug me. Not until you’re all dry. I’ll meet you in the dining room.’

Gabby felt much better after a cup of hot chocolate and a slice of jam and bread. It had taken her a good ten minutes to finally calm down Mrs Dalrymple and convince her that it was all just a part of her training. She was
making a second cup when Hannah walked in, closely followed by Angus.

‘Well done, Gab,’ Angus said. ‘That was actually a long way.’ He stopped suddenly. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ He disappeared through the dining room door.

Gabby told Hannah about the nightmare she’d just gone through, happily repeating the story for E.D. and Ling five minutes later.

‘Oh, I just remembered,’ Hannah said, pulling a piece of paper from her sock. Before she had time to speak, Angus appeared again at the door to the verandah.

‘I know where those guys climbed out the window,’ he called, beckoning the others over. ‘There’s a basement room down past the back steps, but the window in the door’s been boarded up. It’s like no one wants us to know about it.’

‘First things first, Angus,’ Ling said. ‘What’s this piece of paper you’ve got, Han?’

Hannah unfolded the paper and spread it out on the table in front of them. ‘Kristy had it but she dropped it in the cemetery.’

‘It’s an old newspaper cutting,’ Ling said.

‘Very old,’ E.D. added.

Hannah skimmed the article. ‘The paper’s torn at the bottom and the writing is sort of
blurred but it’s about a shipwreck and gold buried on the Isle of Many.’

‘No wonder those kids were out there looking,’ E.D. said, stretching back in his chair. ‘We were on Treasure Island.’

Chapter 7

Sunday, 19 December, afternoon

Hannah looked over at Ling, who sat staring out the window at the dark sea, and nudged Gabby. Gabby looked at her cousin, noticing how pale she was.

‘Let’s go up to our room and read for a while,’ Hannah said.

‘Read?’ Gabby said. ‘Read what?’

‘A book? A magazine? Come on, Gabby.’ Hannah lowered her voice. ‘Ling needs to rest.’

‘Oh.’ Gabby stood up. ‘Yeah. We’ll go and do some reading.’

‘We’re coming, too.’ E.D. stood up.

‘We need to think about what we do next.’ Angus pushed back his chair.

‘But—’ Hannah looked hard at Angus.

‘He’s right, Hannah.’ Ling turned back to the group, reaching out to her friend and taking the newspaper article from her. ‘We need to have a think about this.’

They trailed up the stairs to the girls’ room, Ling reading the article all the way.

‘I don’t know,’ Ling said, sitting on her bed and holding out the bit of newspaper. ‘It’s hard to read. If we had the whole article we might understand a bit more. Look at the last bit.

‘“Four golden ingots and four other pieces of an unknown nature retrieved at great but disastrous cost from the charred coach were hidden, it is said, by bushrangers of a most undesirable constitution. The gold, carrying its terrible secret, lies undisturbed since the fate of the despicable rogues…”
And then the paper’s torn.’

E.D. looked at the article. ‘What does all that mean? They sure wrote funny in these old newspapers.’

‘I like it,’ said Hannah.

‘You would,’ said E.D.

‘Hey, check this bit out.
“The Collaratta Curse though will bring misfortune and hardship to anyone seeking the gold. Bad luck will follow them until…”’

‘Until what?’

‘That’s it, that’s where it’s torn; like the first paragraph.’

‘There’s a date at the top,’ interrupted Ling. ‘22 December 1853. And the name of the newspaper:
The Intrepid Times.’

‘If we had access to the internet,’ Hannah said, ‘we could look it up. Wait on, I’ll go and check.’ She darted out the door and was back almost immediately. ‘Mrs Dalrymple says that the cottage only has dial up but there’s some problem with it. In other words, it’s hopeless to try from here. She doesn’t know anyone else who has internet access.’

‘There must be someone!’ Gabby said in surprise. ‘Everyone has a computer these days.’

‘Not in Intrepid Point,’ said Angus.

‘I know a quicker way.’ Hannah rummaged in her bed and pulled out her phone. ‘I’ll ring my brother Sean. He can do the research and then let us know.’

‘How?’ Gabby looked at Hannah who was busy dialling.

‘Well, he can’t email us. I guess he can fax it through.’ Hannah paused, listening. ‘Hello?’

‘Don’t get him to fax it here,’ said Angus. ‘The other guys might get hold of it.’

‘Fax it to this number.’ E.D. dug in his pocket and pulled out the magnet he’d got from the fish
and chip shop.
‘Numero del facsimile.’
He gave the magnet to Hannah.

‘…and then send it to this number, right?’ Hannah read from the magnet, went ‘yes’ and ‘uh ha’ and then finished the call. ‘He’s onto it.’

‘Well,’ E.D. said, jumping up, ‘let’s go and do some more exploring. It’s stopped raining. I haven’t even seen the lighthouse yet.’

‘Good idea, E.D.’ Hannah got up too.

There was a knock on the door and then it opened.

‘Hello, everyone,’ Mrs Dalrymple beamed, striding in. ‘Ling, your mother rang earlier and sends her love to everyone. I told her you were all very busy, even with the cold weather.’ She paused, frowning at Gabby. ‘I didn’t mention that you’d been training, Gabby.’

‘Thanks, Mrs D,’ Gabby said, smiling.

‘Now, I’ve got some super games downstairs—’

‘Thanks, Aunt Susie. We’re just going to head out for a walk again.’

‘Oh, really? Are you sure? Well, make sure you’ve all got coats on. It’s looking rather chilly out there at the moment.’

Outside, the sky was blue again but the wind was cool. Angus flipped up the hood of
his windcheater. ‘Some holiday weather,’ he grumbled.

‘Funny, isn’t it,’ said Ling, softly. ‘It’s like the sea doesn’t want it to be sunny.’

The ocean was dark and marked with white caps. To Hannah it looked as if it was constantly churning, something that wouldn’t be still. She tore her eyes away and pointed towards the cliffs. ‘To the lighthouse!’

It wasn’t far to the path that wound up the side of the cliff but the wind was so ferocious it seemed to be pushing them back. E.D. took the lead, using his bigger body to block the wind for the others. They followed him with their heads down, sprinkled by the fine cold spray of whipped waves. The further they climbed, the smaller the beach became and the quieter the sounds of the crashing waves.

‘Made it,’ said E.D. finally. He stopped in the middle of the path and the others stood next to him.

The lighthouse reared up in front of them. Its worn sides, which had once been a gleaming white, were now patchy with age and weather. They could just see the windowed area of the light glinting in the sun. At the base, a closed wooden door faced them, solid and uninviting.
Small open windows dotted the tower, spiralling up towards the top.

‘I don’t know about this,’ Gabby said suddenly. ‘It doesn’t feel right.’

‘How’s it meant to feel?’ asked E.D., curiously.

‘I don’t know,’ said Gabby crossly. ‘Just not like this.’

‘Gabby’s right,’ said Ling. ‘It feels strange up here.’

‘That’s just because we’re so far up the cliff face,’ said Hannah practically. ‘You haven’t been up here before. Do you think someone will be inside?’

‘No.’ E.D. went to the door and tried the handle. ‘Locked. Told you.’

‘Try knocking,’ Gabby suggested.

‘You reckon someone’s going to hear us knock?’ E.D. looked at her.

‘Well, try the door bell.’

‘Gab,’ said Hannah, ‘lighthouses don’t have door bells.’

‘Listen!’ said Ling, suddenly. ‘What’s that?’

Over the soft noises of the faraway sea and the faint cries of circling seagulls, another sound could be heard. It was a soft barking, a bit like a dog, but higher.

‘What is it?’ Gabby whispered.

‘Down there.’ Angus pointed.

Below them, in the choppy water, something was swimming. It was a dark shape, darker than the sea, moving back and forth near the jetty. Gabby gasped. ‘It’s a shark! The boat man was wrong; there are sharks in the bay!’

‘I don’t think it’s a shark,’ said E.D., ‘but there’s only one way to find out.’ He shouldered his way past the others and started running down the path.

The others followed, running wildly down the slippery track. Hannah dropped back, unsure of her footing. Gabby caught up with E.D. ‘Why don’t you think it’s a shark?’ she yelled at him as they ran.

‘I thought I could see flippers.’

‘Flippers? It’s a man, then?’

‘Not rubber flippers.’ E.D. was beginning to pant. He snuck a look at Gabby, noticing that she wasn’t anywhere near panting. ‘Flipper flippers.’

Gabby ran without speaking for a few seconds. ‘Flipper flippers?’

‘Just look.’

They’d reached the end of the path. The sand on the beach slowed them down but it was much easier now to see what the shape was. A large round head with two big eyes appeared above the water and ducked under again.

‘A seal!’ Gabby said. She ran easily across the sand, leaving E.D. behind.

Now that she was level with it, it was easy to see that the seal was distressed and swimming haphazardly around the jetty. Gabby stepped onto the wood, and walked past the boat moorings, keeping an eye on the animal. She reached the end of the jetty and knelt down. Only then could she see what was worrying the seal.

Caught in a dirty piece of fishing net, a young seal pup lay tangled against the jetty post. It was barking—the noise they had heard from the cliff—and when it saw Gabby, the barking became higher pitched and the little seal struggled harder.

‘Don’t move,’ said Gabby softly to it. ‘You’ll only hurt yourself.’ She looked back along the wooden planks for the hire boat man but his tin shed was locked. E.D. ran up to her, making loud clunking noises on the wooden slats.

‘Shhh,’ said Gabby. She leaned back over towards the seal.

Within minutes, the others had caught up. Hannah arrived last, puffing and red in the face. ‘Oh,’ she said, when she could breathe again. ‘The poor thing.’

‘Can we free it?’ Ling looked as if she was going to be sick. The run had taken a lot out of her and the sight of the trapped seal was making her feel ill.

Before anyone could answer, E.D. started taking off his clothes. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled something out, placing it between his teeth before wrenching his jeans off. Hannah turned even redder. E.D. gave her an odd grin, not letting go of whatever it was in his mouth, and lowered himself off the end of the ramp into the sea.

Angus and Ling knelt beside Gabby and watched as E.D. swam to the seal. At the sight of him, the little animal tried to twist free but the net was holding fast. E.D. took the object out of his mouth.

‘A pocket knife. Good on ya, E.D.’ Angus spoke softly but E.D. heard. He raised a finger in acknowledgement and went to work on the netting.

It took a long time—a long time to spend crouched on the hard wooden planks; an even longer time in the cold water. E.D. cut carefully, easing the net away from the warm skin of the seal before cutting upwards to avoid nicking the animal. The water was beginning to freeze his
fingers, and he was finding it difficult to keep his body balanced, but he didn’t stop. Next to him, swimming less frantically now, the mother seal watched, with her large head sticking out of the sea. The little pup stopped its barking. It was as if it knew that E.D. was trying to help.

Finally, the ropes gave way, and the baby seal was free. E.D. moved away from it slowly, pulling the net with him. He stayed treading water as the seal gave a flip of its tail. It sank just below the surface, moving slowly, until it sighted its mother. Then it gave a small splash and was gone. The mother seal stayed a moment longer. E.D. saw her looking at him.

‘No worries,’ he said. ‘Any time.’

There was a large splash and both seals disappeared into deeper water.

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