Название | Stormswept |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Helen Dunmore |
Жанр | Детская проза |
Серия | |
Издательство | Детская проза |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007468003 |
“Have you – got any – chocolate?”
Jenna shakes her head. “We’ve got to get home straight away, you’re freezing. I thought you weren’t going to come up, the second time. I was all ready to dive in after you.”
“That was s-s-stupid—”
“I saw him move, Mor. He’s all right.”
I nod. I’m not sure that “all right” is really the correct description of how Malin is, but at least he’s not dead, and he must be conscious or he wouldn’t have been able to swim to the side. He wanted us to put him in the water, and we did. We couldn’t do any more. But that gash in his tail, gaping under the water—
“You’re shaking, Mor. Come on.”
It starts to rain again on the way home. I don’t feel cold any more, but my head doesn’t seem to belong to my body. I have to concentrate hard to put one foot in front of the other.
Digory’s not in the cottage, but he’s left a note: i am Gon to sea Mum.
“I hope n-n-not,” I say.
“What?”
“G-g-gone to sea. We’ve g-g-got enough – to worry about w-w-w-without that.”
“Your teeth are making a horrible noise, Mor.”
She’s right. They are chattering. I’ve read about it in books but never thought it could happen in real life. My teeth are clashing together so hard I’m afraid bits will chip off.
Jen rushes upstairs and runs a bath. It’s so hot that it hurts to get in, and she pours in half Mum’s lavender bubble bath so that bubbles come right up the edge.
“I’m going to make you some hot chocolate. Don’t fall asleep, Mor.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to drown in the bath after not drowning in the pool.”
My teeth have stopped chattering. Jenna brings me a massive mug of hot chocolate and sits on the edge of the bath while I drink it. It’s so sweet I feel the sugar rushing through me.
“Yum, that’s amazing. Don’t watch me like a nurse, Jenna. I’m fine. I just got a bit cold.”
“You were all covered in blue patches. I nearly called Dr Kemp. I thought you were going to have an asthma attack.”
I used to have asthma when I was little, but I don’t any more and I hate it when people go on about it. I sink back into the bubbles. The mention of Dr Kemp has given me an idea.
“I’m going to ask Dr Kemp what’s the best thing to do for a gash like Malin’s, that can’t be stitched.”
“You can’t do that, Mor! She’s bound to ask who it is that’s injured.”
“I’ll make an appointment for something else, then I’ll just sort of slip in the question.”
“You can’t do that. Mum always makes our appointments.”
“I can. Malin can’t go to a doctor, can he? So I’ll go for him.”
“What will you say is wrong with you?”
I sink back in the water until only my mouth and the tip of my nose are above the bubbles. “I’ll think of something. Did Digory take my Mars bar?”
Jenna is silent. I blow paths in the bubbles under my chin.
“Mum’ll notice we’ve used her lavender.”
“Mor…”
“What?”
“Maybe he won’t be there, when we go back.”
“Of course he will.”
“He might just – you know, swim out, when the tide’s high.”
“He can’t do that. You know he can’t. The tide doesn’t get that far and the channel’s far too narrow for anyone to swim up it.”
“But if he’s—”
“If he’s what?”
“Well, he’s not like a person, is he?”
“He’s Mer. You know that.”
“He might be… well, you know. Able to disappear. If he’s a sort of—”
“Sort of what?”
“You know. A sort of magical creature. Like in Harry Potter.”
“You carried him, Jenna! He didn’t feel very magical to me. He’s as real as we are.”
“Yes, but…” Jenna’s voice trails away into unhappy silence.
She wants him not to be real, and everything not to have happened. If we go back to the pool and Malin’s not there, then we can start to forget about him. In a few months we might be able to pretend that none of this really happened. It was something we imagined, because we hadn’t had any sleep and because the Polish sailor – Adam – died.
I sip the dregs of my hot chocolate, and watch Jenna secretly from under my eyelashes. I’m not going to argue any more with her about the reality of Malin. But I am going to see Dr Kemp.
“It’s Morveren,” I say.
Dr Kemp rubs her hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry. What can I do for you, Morveren?” She looks tired. I move forward to stand by her desk, feeling awkward.
“Would you like to sit down? Now, what can I do for you?”
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