The Girl Who Dreamt of Dolphins (29 page)

‘
Whoa down a little’ called Storm from behind. ‘We need to go
fast, but if you swim that fast you will soon be exhausted and we
will never get there. Be patient, young Dancer and match my pace.
We will make better progress that way.’

Dancer slowed down and the two dolphins swam side by side,
both consumed by their own thoughts, both united by the desire to
get to Spirit as quickly as they could. They followed the currents
that Spirit must have followed and, though they were still a long
way off, Dancer knew that unlike yesterday when they had searched
vainly for Spirit, that they were now heading in the right
direction.

As they swam, Dancer thought about the apparition of the human
child that had appeared in the water next to her. She had not
spoken as dolphins do, with whistles and clicks. In fact she had
not seemed to open her mouth at all. Yet despite that, Dancer had
clearly understood her. The top half of her body had been encased
in a sort of orange fabric, though her fore-limbs were exposed and
coloured the same pinky-white colour as her face. Her lower limbs,
what were they called? Legs. Her legs were covered in a sort of
blue material. Hair had floated around her face like the tentacles
of a sea anemone. She had not kicked her legs or swum at all, but
had seemed to float along behind Dancer almost effortlessly. It had
all been very strange indeed. The human child had said that she was
Spirit’s friend, yet he’d never told her about the girl. What was
going on?

Glancing at the younger dolphin swimming beside him, Storm’s
mind was full of all the old stories; stories he had heard as a
young calf and never quite believed. Now he wished he knew more
about them. If only he could talk over everything with some of the
old and wise dolphins from the other pods at the council of all the
dolphins. Yet he would have to wait to do that. From what he knew
though, a human child would only come to one dolphin, the
Child-Seer. It was incredibly unlikely that the same human would
appear to another dolphin. These visions might only happen in the
most exceptional and the gravest of circumstances.

Bethany wandered up to Lucy, her sketchbook and pencil in
hand. She had quickly drawn the angry-looking sea gull and then
dashed down several sketches of Lucy sitting on the ledge of rock
ten or so metres away from her, resting her elbows on her knees,
staring dreamily out to see. As she got closer, she could see that
Lucy was not looking at all well.

‘
Hey Kiddo, you look as white as a sheet!’ she exclaimed. Lucy
smiled at her wanly.

‘
Oh I’m ok’ she lied.

‘
And your other half?’ asked Bethany. Lucy glanced up at her.
What a strange turn of phrase. Lucy knew exactly what Bethany meant
though. She didn’t answer directly but frowned and shook her head.
She didn’t want to say just how worried she was about
Spirit.

‘
I’m feeling a bit faint actually’ she admitted. ‘I could do
with another sandwich if there’s any left.’

‘
I think maybe you picked up a bug yesterday on that train’
said Bethany. ‘Perhaps I should get you home. You look completely
wiped out.’ Yet despite Bethany’s words, Lucy knew that Bethany was
fully aware of why she was so weak again and that Lucy had been
reaching out with her mind to speak to dolphins. It was as if
Bethany didn’t quite want her to tell her everything, or at least
not quite yet.

‘
But can we come back later?’ Lucy asked urgently. ‘I’ve got to
come back later’

‘
Yes of course’ replied Bethany.

The path up the cliff was really tough going for Lucy, as her
legs still felt like jelly and Bethany had to half drag her up.
Eventually they reached the top and walked across the field before
climbing the stile to where Bethany’s old Land-rover was parked.
They got in and Bethany drove them back home to the farm and her
studio.

When they got back, Lucy lay down on Bethany’s battered sofa
and quickly fell into a light doze. But it wasn’t a restful sleep.
All Lucy could see when she closed her eyes was Spirit, alone and
trapped under the ominous grey cliff, the heavy steel wire snagged
in his flesh and a deathly pallor on his flank and face. He was
hanging in the water and barely moving. ‘You’ll be ok. Help is on
it’s way’ she kept repeating in her sleep, but she had no idea if
Spirit could hear her, or if even what she hoped would happen was
actually true.

Lucy woke up with a start, stiff and as tired as she had been
when she dropped off. She was vaguely aware that someone had
knocked at the studio door and Bethany was just opening it. It was
Thelma Merryweather, the lady who’d come to her rescue from the bus
stop when Lucy had arrived in Merwater the day before.

‘
I was just driving through this way and wondered how your Lucy
was feeling today’ Thelma said.

‘
She’s pretty exhausted to be honest’ confided Bethany,
glancing quickly in Lucy’s direction. ‘I hope she’ll be feeling
better tomorrow though.’

‘
Oh I do hope so’ replied Thelma sympathetically. My Nate was
wondering if you’d both like to come out with him on his fishing
boat if you fancy it. You never know, you might be lucky and see a
seal, or even a dolphin.’ Lucy sat bolt upright on the
sofa.

I’d like that very much!’ she exclaimed decisively. Thelma
smiled in her direction.

‘
Well that’s a date then!’ she said before Bethany had a chance
to reply. She looked back at Bethany. ‘You’ve got my number haven’t
you dear’ she said. ‘Just give me a call when you want to go out in
the boat. Nate goes out most mornings.’

‘
That would be lovely Thelma’ replied Bethany. ‘I’ll give you a
call later if I think Lucy’s up to it tomorrow morning.’

‘
Grand’ said Thelma. ‘I won’t stop, I’ve got errands to run.
Speak to you later!’ She waved and headed off.

Miles away, back home, Dad sat on the sofa in the late
afternoon. The house seemed smaller and emptier without Lucy in it.
He felt anxious and worried about her. It had been against his
better judgement that he’d allowed himself to be persuaded by
Bethany to let Lucy stay down there for a few days. He had half a
mind to get in the car and drive down to Cornwall right now and
bring her back. He’d been furious when he’d learned that Lucy had
taken herself off down there on her own. At first he thought that
Bethany had put her up to it and it had taken all Bethany’s powers
of tact and diplomacy to explain to him that she hadn’t and that
she was as surprised as he was when Lucy had turned up unannounced.
More than anger at Lucy’s disobedience, he’d felt a clutch of fear
at his heart when he realised where she was. He was scared for her,
scared at what might happen with her close to the sea and the open
expanse of the ocean beyond. Yet what he couldn’t deny was that
there was some primal urge in Lucy to get close to water and to the
sea.

Dad could see now that he had been foolish to ban her from the
swimming club, or even extra training before school. At least that
had been controlled and supervised. Lucy had been able to swim and
fulfil that need to be in water, but in an artificial environment.
Dad sighed to himself and looked around the quiet sitting room.
That at least was better than her being down there by the sea,
where anything might happen. But the reason that he had not
demanded that Lucy return immediately, or go there to drag her back
himself, was that he had realised speaking to Bethany that he could
not go on denying Lucy this basic need. Water, the sea and
everything that lived within it, was a basic constituent of what
Lucy was as a person. You could see that by just looking at Lucy’s
drawings. Ever since she had been able to hold a pencil, Lucy had
drawn pictures of the sea and the creatures within it obsessively,
compulsively and with a passion. She needed what he could not,
would not provide her.

That was why, despite himself, he’d grudgingly agreed to allow
her to stay down there for a few days. Maybe she’d be more settled
and less discontent when she came back. He hoped it would help her
find some peace and get whatever it was out of her system. It was a
difficult decision to take, to allow his only child that level of
freedom, especially when he feared the danger it might bring. His
mind turned to Megan. The loss of Lucy’s mother had been so painful
that he could hardly bear it. Lucy was so like Megan in so many
ways. He could not allow Lucy’s destiny to be the same as Megan’s.
He just could not.

Lucy’s Dad got up and pulled a box of photographs down from
the book shelf. He smiled to himself as he slowly flicked through
the photos. The pictures were all jumbled up and there were snaps
of him as a child, Megan as a child, pictures from throughout their
marriage and of Lucy growing up. There were baby pictures of Lucy
splashing in the bath. She looked so adorable. Then he came across
a picture of himself as a toddler with ice-cream all over his face.
What a sight! Megan had been a lean-limbed and athletic looking
child, a born swimmer he realised, looking at the pictures of
her.

Then he found pictures of them on their wedding day. Megan
looked so beautiful he thought. He realised how uncomfortable he’d
been in that ill-fitting suit, with everyone looking at him. He
hated being the centre of attention. For their honeymoon Megan had
wanted to go sailing around the islands of Greece and Turkey and to
dive off the edge of the boat into the emerald-blue sea. But he
suffered from terrible sea-sickness and even the smallest tremor of
a wave could make him feel green and queasy. Even Megan had
realised that dragging him round on a boat for two weeks was not a
good idea. They’d gone to Tunisia instead for their honeymoon and
he’d stayed safely on the beach whilst Megan had swum out to sea
with her confident, powerful strokes.

Lucy’s Dad turned to the next photograph. There was a young
girl of about eight in shorts and a tee shirt with a baseball cap
on her head, standing in front of a huge plate of glass. Behind it,
he could see that there were thousands of gallons of water and in
that water a dolphin was poised, it’s smiling face and nose just
touching the glass of the tank, while in front the girl stretched
out her open palm on the other side as if trying to touch the
dolphin. The girl’s face was completely ecstatic, suffused with joy
at being so close to such an amazing creature. The thing was
though, that the more that he looked, the more trouble he had
telling whether the girl in the photograph was his wife Megan, or
his daughter Lucy.

Chapter Seventeen
:

It had been a very long day. The muscles of Dancer’s flank and
tail were aching with tiredness. Dancer felt leaden, but she knew
that they had to keep going. They’d been swimming for hours and now
the sun was drawing low on the horizon and within an hour it would
be sinking into the sea. Normally Dancer was used to swimming and
resting, playing and then resting again. She had never before swum
so constantly without a break. Even when she had taken her own
coming of age swim alone, she had not needed to swim this way.
Storm, she noticed, seemed to have an unending supply of energy. He
had settled into a steady, rhythmic pace, his tail undulating up
and down and just kept going. He didn’t say much and Dancer was
desperate to ask him to stop and let them rest their tired muscles
for a few minutes, but she didn’t dare. She knew that Spirit was in
danger and that every minute of the day counted. She was afraid to
think of the state that he would be in when they found him. She
hadn’t realised what a long distance it was to the mainland, but
even if she had known, she still would not have thought twice
before volunteering to swim ahead with Storm in order to help her
friend. Both of them were too tired to say much while they swum,
but the next time they broke the surface of the water to take a
fresh lung full of air through their blow holes, she spoke
again.

‘
How much further do you think now Storm?’

‘
It has been a long way’ replied Storm, ‘but we will soon see
the coast of the mainland. Then you will be able to rest a little
young Dancer.’ Dancer glanced at the older dolphin. Even though his
swimming did not betray tiredness, his voice did. In a way it was
good for her to know that it wasn’t easy for Storm
either.

‘
And do you really think that we will be able to find Spirit
once we get there?’ she asked.

‘
I believe that we will. We know that he is at the foot of the
high grey cliffs. We have been following the same currents as
Spirit must have. I doubt that he went any great distance in that
direction along the cliffs before he got into difficulty. The
cliffs drop away to a town and then the colour of the rock changes.
The cliffs are lower there too. If you go the other way, the rocky
coast gives way to beaches and then there is a river estuary. I’m
sure that once we get close to the cliffs, he will be able to hear
our call and that he will answer it. We will soon find him
then.’