Stormswept. Helen Dunmore

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Название Stormswept
Автор произведения Helen Dunmore
Жанр Детская проза
Серия
Издательство Детская проза
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007468003



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it’s true!”

      “Morveren, when you were climbing on the rocks, do you think you could have slipped? Is there anything you can’t remember?”

      She thinks I fell and banged my head, and I’ve imagined everything because I’m concussed or something. It’s what anyone would think, but Jenna’s my twin sister. She must be able to see that I’m deadly serious. I want to shake her to make her believe me. But would I have believed in Malin, if I hadn’t seen him and touched his skin? Mer people don’t exist except in stories, everybody knows that.

      “Jen, listen. I didn’t bang my head, I swear. Even if you don’t believe me, just come. If there’s nothing – I mean, if he’s not real – then it won’t do any harm, will it? But he’ll die if we don’t help him.”

      Jenna shivers, and rubs her arms. “It’s been such a horrible day,” she says very quietly, as if she’s talking to herself. “I wish it was over. I can’t leave Digory on his own, Mor.”

      “He’ll be fine! He likes being on his own.”

      It’s true. Digory’s one of these people who’s happy just being himself. I can see that Jenna’s wavering. She still doesn’t believe me, but she can sense how desperate I am.

      “I’m going to get the groundsheet so we can carry him to the pool.”

      “It’s under the stairs,” says Jenna automatically. She always knows where things are.

      I go to fetch the groundsheet, and Jenna comes after me.

      “You don’t have to follow me,” I snap. “I’m not going to collapse, even though you don’t believe I didn’t bang my head.”

      “All right then, I’ll come with you,” she says suddenly. Her face is creased with worry. “I’m not letting you go on your own.”

      She hooks the fireguard to the wall and tells Digory to be sure and not touch it. Mum is working a few hours at the post office, and if he needs her he can run down there. Dad’s at the harbour. “Just play, Digory. Don’t go in the kitchen and don’t touch the fire. Do you understand? If you’re really good, I’ll give you a surprise when we get back.”

      “What surprise?” asks Digory. Jenna glances at me and says, “Morveren’s Mars bar that she’s hidden in the freezer.”

      “Jen!”

      “Surely it’s worth a Mars bar?” asks Jenna coolly, and I have to shrug and agree.

      “I’ll be really good, Jenna,” says Digory earnestly.

      Once we’re clear of the village I start to run. I’m so scared that Malin will die before we get him into the water. It’s like a stone in my stomach. People do die. That man last night… Adam. He was waiting for help and it didn’t come.

      “He’s right down the end,” I pant.

      The beach looks completely empty, and for a moment even I doubt everything. Jenna stares ahead, her face carefully inexpressive, but I know what she’s thinking.

      “We need to go down to the rocks, then I can get my bearings. We have to find the right dune.”

      I run down the beach, with Jenna following. I look around, trying to fit the landscape into the right pattern. Not here. I go on. I think this is where I was when I first heard Malin groan, but I’m too far down the beach. I turn and start to walk backwards in the direction we’ve come, looking left, then right, then ahead. I glance behind me. Was it here? No, it’s still not quite right. Why didn’t I check Malin’s exact position before rushing off for help? All the dunes look the same. Was it that one – or that one? Jenna watches me, saying nothing.

      “It was definitely around here,” I say, and set off towards the dunes. We scramble up, grabbing hold of the tough marram grass to help us keep our balance in the shifting sand. We are at the top.

      There’s nothing. Jenna comes up beside me, and stares around at the empty curves and hollows of the dune. Still, she doesn’t speak.

      “It must have been further down.” I am hot all over now from nervous fear, and the weight of the groundsheet. Any minute, Jenna will say she’s going back home. I skid down the side of the dune again and Jenna follows. Back on the flat sand, I look out to sea and then at the rocks, trying to get my bearings again. It still doesn’t look right. I walk backwards.

      Suddenly sea and rock and sand slide into place, as if I’ve put in the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

      “This is the place! I know it’s here!”

      Jenna nods but I see scepticism in her face. She’ll humour me a bit longer. Again, we climb the side of the dune. There’s the top, exactly as I remember it. I climb up, and stand stock-still, my heart beating hard with relief and also with… Well, with disbelief. It is all true and there must have been a part of me that still didn’t quite believe that it could be true. I didn’t bang my head. Against all the laws of reality, Malin is real. There he is, lying in the hollow of the dunes, eyes closed, head flung back, as if—

      “Jenna! Quick! Quick!”

      Jenna scrambles up, panting, and then she sees him. She grabs hold of me, digging her nails into my arm.

      “Let go, Jenna!”

      In a second I’m at Malin’s side.

      “Malin! Malin!”

      Very slowly, his eyelids part. My heart thuds so hard I have to swallow in order to speak.

      “My sister’s here, Malin,” I say, as calmly as I can. You’ve got to be calm with people when they’re really ill. “You’re going to be all right. We’re taking you to the salt water.”

      But I can see from his face that there’s not a moment to lose.

      “Let’s get the groundsheet out flat beside him, then we can lift him on to it. We haven’t got time to wet it. Come on, Jen!”

      Jenna looks as if someone’s hit her in the face, she’s so shocked.

      “Jenna, help me!”

      Her hands are shaking, but she helps me to spread out the groundsheet.

      “I’m going to go round behind him and get my hands under his arms. You lift under his— his tail.”

      “Do you think we ought to move him?”

      “We’ve got to. He’ll die if we don’t.” Jenna is so pale I’m afraid she’s going to faint.

      “Then we can wrap the groundsheet round him and carry him to the pool. He was talking to me before. He speaks English.”

      With a huge effort, Jenna collects herself. “King Ragworm Pool, you mean?”

      “Yes.”

      “But we’ll have to get him up the rocks.”

      “We can do it.”

      Lifting Malin on to the groundsheet is the worst part. The first time we try to lift him, he slips and his tail hits the ground. He groans and the colour ebbs from his face, leaving it a dirty grey-blue. I’m afraid we’re murdering him, not helping him.

      “Try kneeling at right angles to his body, Jen. Get your arms right under him.”

      She’s in position. I tighten my grip under Malin’s arms.

      “One, two, three – lift.”

      This time it works. We lift Malin as gently as we can, and lay him on the groundsheet. He’s heavy. Carefully, we wrap the groundsheet around him like a sling, so he can’t fall out. The gash in his tail is bleeding again, but not too badly. We decide Jenna will walk backwards, holding his tail, and I’ll keep hold of him under the arms, through the groundsheet, so he can’t slide out of it.

      It is a nightmare