White Dolphin (22 page)

I want to lift her with us too, take her away from here. But as I watch, a wave folds over, lifts her and explodes against the cliff. In the spinning kaleidoscope of sea and spray, all that’s left of her is twisted metal and flying fragments of splintered wood.

‘
H
ave you got the others?’ I yell.

The winch-man is trying to get me to lie down on a stretcher, but I sit back up. ‘Have you got them? Have you got Felix and Jake? They went in the other boat.’

He speaks into his mouthpiece and holds the headphones tight to his head so he can hear.

‘Where were they heading?’

‘To the harbour,’ I shout. I feel a pit of fear rise in me, because he’d have told me if they’d been found.

He speaks again into the mouthpiece and then the helicopter changes direction, veering sideways.

‘We’ll take you to the town and get an ambulance for both of you. Then we’ll go back out to look for your friends,’ he shouts.

I’ve lost
Moana
, but it feels nothing to losing Felix and even Jake. Ethan doesn’t say anything. He’s lying on the stretcher under blankets, eyes closed tight. I wrap my blanket around me and look out beyond the open doorway to the sea below. It’s a heaving mass of grey-green surf. I want to see the white sails of Felix’s dinghy skimming across the waves below. But rain sweeps across the sky and we are folded in a cloak of cloud, and it’s impossible to see anything out there at all.

My ears pop as we descend onto the playing field outside the town. The sky is black. The streetlights glow dull orange, and cars have their headlights on, even though it’s only early evening. The blue light of an ambulance flashes along the top road, coming this way. The winch-man helps us out, guiding us under the turning helicopter blades to the cars parked on the road.

I see Dad running through the rain.

‘Kara!’ He folds his arms around me and pulls me in. I feel his warm breath in my hair. He holds me tightly to him. His whole body shakes and when I look up at him, his face is crumpled into sobs.

‘Kara!’

A hand holds me by the shoulder and I turn to see Felix’s mum.

‘Where’s Felix?’ Her hair is plastered to her face and her mascara has run into long black streaks.

Felix’s dad and Dougie Evans are there too.

Dougie Evans crouches down beside me. His eyes are wild with fear. ‘Where’s my boy, Kara? Where’s my boy?’

The last time I saw Jake, he was stretched across the dinghy coughing seawater out of his lungs.

‘They’re in Felix’s dinghy,’ I say, ‘on their way to harbour.’

Lightning flashes across the sky. Felix’s mum grasps my arm.

‘They could be back by now,’ I say. It’s a wild impossible thought, but maybe they could. Maybe Felix has got them safely in. ‘Let’s go there,’ I say.

And it’s as if they’ve been jolted out of sleep.

‘Come on,’ says Felix’s dad, ‘in my car.’

Dad wraps me in his coat. ‘You need a doctor, Kara.’

‘I’m fine,’ I say. I pull away and start running after Felix’s mum and dad, and we all crowd in the car, Dad, Dougie Evans, and me along the back seat.

Felix’s dad pulls up on the pavement by the harbour and we spill out and run to the harbour’s edge. The flags above the chandlery are flapping hard and the mast lines of the yachts are screaming in the tearing winds. I scan the harbour. All the fishing boats are in, lined up in the deep-water moorings. The yachts and motor boats are secure against the pontoon. I see the space where
Moana
had once been, and it hits me all over again, that she is gone. I won’t see her again.

But there is no dinghy in the harbour, no sign of Felix or Jake.

A plume of spray rises over the wall and scatters across a figure looking out to sea. Her black cloak and long hair are flying in the wind. I clamber up on the higher stone ledge next to Miss Penluna. She reaches for my hand, but doesn’t take her eyes off the sea.

Felix’s mum and dad and Dougie Evans join us, leaning on the granite wall staring out into the waves. Lightning flashes and a crack of thunder tears the air apart. The tide is high, pushed up further by the wind and waves. People are lined up all along the wall to watch the storm. It draws people, this sort of power, to see what it can do. Massive waves curl and cross over each other. Foam and spray are flying past.

The helicopter clatters past above our heads.

‘They’ll find them,’ Dad shouts.

But I wonder how, because we can’t see anything through the driving rain.

The waves roll in, one after another, massive mountains of moving water, spray flying from the tops like wind-blown snow. I doubt
Moana
could have sailed in this.

Dougie stands right up on the wall. ‘MY BOY!’ he yells. But the gale flings the words back in his face. ‘WHERE’S MY BOY!’

He runs his hands over his head. His eyes are red and wild. He clutches on Dad’s arm. ‘I’ve lost them, Jim. I’ve lost both my boys.’

Dad puts his arm around him. ‘Come on. Let’s go back and wait for news.’

I turn to look at Miss Penluna. She’s standing sentry-like, looking out to sea.

Dougie Evans pulls her round to face him. ‘I want him back.’

Miss Penluna stares into his eyes.

‘He’s all that’s left,’ he sobs.

Miss Penluna pulls her shawl around her. ‘What is he coming back to, Dougie? What world are you leaving him?’

Dougie Evans searches her face and I hear Miss Penluna’s words despite the wind and rain. ‘He’s in the company of angels now.’

Dougie’s knees buckle and he stumbles to the ground.

A wave slams against the wall, soaking us with freezing spray.

‘Come on,’ says Dad. He pulls my arm.

I look back into the storm one more time.

And it feels my heart has skipped a beat, because I saw something, out there, I’m sure I did.

I strain my eyes into the grey veil of rain.

There it is again.

A sail.

A mast and sail rising up behind a wave, and then I see the white hull of Felix’s dinghy rear up into sight.

‘I SEE THEM!’ I yell.

Felix’s mum and dad clamber up beside me and Dougie pulls himself to his feet.

Dougie grabs my shoulder. ‘Where?’

‘There!’ I look but the boat has disappeared behind a wall of surf.

It rises up again.

‘It’s them,’ shouts Felix’s dad, ‘it’s them.’

The boat is so small against these waves. I see Felix in his cockpit seat and Jake slumped in the seat behind.

They are running with the wind. It’s on their backs, driving them towards us. They are faster than the waves, outrunning them. The dinghy’s bow is well out of the water, and they are skimming across the surface. They dip and ride up another wave. But closer in, the waves are breaking, pounding on the harbour wall. The helicopter clatters through the rain above them. But Felix can’t stop now or turn into the wind. They only have one choice and it looks as if he’s chosen it without a second thought. He’s heading for the narrow gap between the harbour walls. It seems impossible to aim for in the raging sea.

I glance at Dad but his eyes are fixed on Felix. Beyond Dad, the crowds along the sea wall are frozen still, just watching. There is nothing anyone can do.

The dinghy is hidden again behind a huge wave. It rides up the back but the wave is changing, beginning to curl. I want them to miss this wave, let it break without them, but they are past the point of no return and they slide down the breaking wave, faster and faster, surfing with it, a curling wall of water chasing them in. Too fast, I think, they can’t make the narrow gap. The wave is pushing them sideways along the line of breaking surf. Felix throws his weight on the side of the boat. The dinghy’s bows swing as the wave crashes over them. I see her mast go down, and all of her is lost in the white foam of the running sea.

The wave explodes against the wall and I look away. I don’t want to see them break against the granite blocks. A foaming wall of surf surges between the harbour walls in a strange and muffled silence. The whole harbour has held its breath, it seems. I clutch Dad and press my head into his chest. But Dad pulls me away.

‘Kara, look!’

I look down into the harbour. Through the foaming wall of surf shoots the dinghy. Its sails are shredded and the mast is a wreck of twisted metal. It slews in an arc and comes to rest, rocking gently in the sheltered water. Two figures are slumped inside, motionless.

‘FELIX!’ I scream.

He leans back in his seat and looks up at me. He gives the thumbs up, and grins. And this time it’s a wave of shouts and cheers that explodes all along the harbour walls.

I
open my eyes. Through the window, the sky is bright, bright blue. A slight breeze lifts the checked curtain edge bringing in the salt smell of the sea.

‘You’ve been asleep for ages, Kara.’

I turn my head. Daisy is sitting legs crossed on her bed, watching me. My neck is stiff and my body feels heavy. The memories of the day before wash over me.

‘What time is it?’ I say.

‘It’s four o’clock,’ she says. ‘You’ve missed breakfast and lunch and you’ve almost missed tea.’

I push myself up on my elbows. ‘It’s that late already?’

Daisy nods her head. But her eyes are shining bright and she’s grinning from ear to ear. She climbs down from her bed and takes my arm. ‘You’ve got to come with me, Kara,’ she says. ‘You’ve got to come and see.’

I swing my legs over the side of the camp bed. My whole body aches and my mouth feels dry and sore. I pull a T-shirt on and jeans.

‘Come on, there’s someone who wants to see you,’ says Daisy. ‘She arrived late last night.’

‘Who?’ I say.

‘Surprise,’ says Daisy. She’s at the door, impatient for me to follow. ‘She’s been waiting for you all day.’

‘I’m coming,’ I say. I stand up and the room spins around me. My head’s so thick and heavy, I can hardly think.

Daisy takes my arm again and leads me into her mum and dad’s bedroom. Uncle Tom is sitting on the side of the bed, and Aunt Bev is propped up on cushions, her back against the headboard.

Daisy squeezes my hand and grins. ‘I’ve got a sister.’

And then I see the baby wrapped up in Aunt Bev’s arms. She’s so small. Eyes closed, lips pouting. Aunt Bev’s face is soft and dreamlike. Her hair is loose and tumbles round her shoulders. Her hand is cupped around the baby’s head.

Mum must have held me like this once.

‘She’s beautiful,’ I say.

Aunt Bev looks up. ‘Kara,’ she says, and pats the duvet.

I sit down beside her and just stare at the small baby wrapped in pink.

‘Daisy told us what you did yesterday,’ says Aunt Bev.

I wait for the telling off. I know I shouldn’t have left Daisy alone to find Dad.

‘You were very brave,’ Aunt Bev says. I see tears well in her eyes. ‘But, Kara, you could have
died
.’

I reach out to touch the tiny hand that’s curled around the blanket edge.

‘You are your mother’s child,’ says Uncle Tom. ‘It’s what she would have done.’

I look at them and see something between sorrow and pity in their eyes. The baby’s hand grasps my finger and she squeezes it in her sleep.

‘What’s she called?’ I ask.

Daisy sits down next to me and takes my other hand. She smiles one of her biggest smiles at me. ‘I chose it,’ she says. ‘We’ve called her Mo, short for Moana. But she’ll be just Mo to us.’

I feel my eyes burn hot with tears. ‘Hello, Mo,’ I say.

I didn’t hear Dad come into the room, but when I look up I see him standing in the doorway.

‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Let’s give them some time alone. Uncle Tom’s going out to sea next week. Dougie Evans gave him back his old job and a pay rise too.’

I look at Uncle Tom, but he’s only got eyes for Daisy and Mo.

Dad slips his arm through mine and I walk with him down the stairs and out into the sunshine. The storm has cleared the air. The colours are brighter, sharper. A car door slams and Dougie Evans walks up the path, his face hidden behind a huge bunch of flowers. He stops when he sees Dad and me.