White Dolphin (19 page)

I scowl at him. ‘What d’you mean?’

Jake just smiles. ‘Take a look.’

I look around
Moana
. Everything’s the same. I open up the cubby under the foredeck. The flares and toolbox are still there, but our blankets have gone, and so have Dad’s fishing tackle and the red tin cups.

I look up at Jake and he’s still grinning. ‘Didn’t your dad tell you? My dad bought her last weekend.’ He looks at the chip packet sticking out of the top of my coat. ‘Your dad was in a hurry to sell her. Cheap as chips, she was.’

I just stare at him. It can’t be true.

But Jake’s mouth forms in a thin hard line. He holds up the keys to the locker under the foredeck. ‘So I think it’s for me to say, get out of
my
boat.’

I back out of
Moana
and climb the ladder. I shove the chips in Felix’s hand. ‘I’ve got to go,’ I say. I run all the way to Aunt Bev’s house and don’t stop until I burst through the door. Aunt Bev’s ironing shirts, watching the TV.

I stand in front of her. ‘Where’s Dad?’ I say.

Aunt Bev tries to look round me. ‘He went out.’

I switch the TV off. ‘Where?’ I say.

She up-ends the iron and puts her hand on her hip. ‘What’s this about, Kara?’

‘He’s sold her, hasn’t he?’ I try to blink back the tears. ‘He’s sold
Moana
.’

Aunt Bev stoops to pull the plug of the iron from the wall. ‘Sit down, Kara.’

I don’t sit down. ‘He’s sold
Moana
to Dougie Evans.’

Aunt Bev reaches out to touch my arm but I step away. ‘He said he couldn’t bring himself to tell you.’

I just stare at her in blank silence.

‘Don’t be angry at him, Kara. He’s trying to get his life back. God knows, he needs to.’

‘Where is he?’ I say.

Aunt Bev fiddles with a button on a shirt. ‘He’s gone to Exeter for the day.’

‘Exeter!’ Dad didn’t mention this to me. ‘Why Exeter?’

Aunt Bev takes a deep breath. I watch her fold the shirt, running long straight creases down the sleeves and seams. She lets her breath out slowly and lays the shirt on the pile next to her.

‘I shouldn’t be telling you this,’ she says. She smooths the front of the shirt and straightens the collar. ‘But he’s gone for a job interview. Don’t ask what. He wouldn’t even tell me. But he told me he was doing this for you.’

I storm past her out of the room. She calls after me, but I run up the stairs to Daisy’s bedroom, glad she’s out at Lauren’s today.

I curl up under my duvet and lie in empty silence.

I can’t believe we’ve lost her.

Moana
isn’t ours.

That shell around Mum and Dad and me has broken.

It feels as if nothing can protect us any more.

I
 sit with Felix on the wooden boards of the roundabout in the park. Rainwater soaks through my jeans and the cold metal of the bars of the roundabout burn into my skin. It feels like a winter storm, although it’s summer, still. The skies are low and heavy and the sea is a shifting mass of grey and green. All the fishing boats have run for home, all except Dougie Evans’s. His trawlers are still out there on the high seas.

It’s been a week now since I found out Dad sold
Moana
. I can hardly bring myself to speak to him. It’s not as if he speaks to me these days anyway. I’ve lost Mum and now I’ve lost
Moana
. It feels as if I’m losing Dad now too. He hasn’t even mentioned his trip to Exeter, and I’m not going to ask him. It’s not as if I can do anything. The baby’s due any day, and Dad and I will have to find somewhere else to live.

I push the roundabout round with my feet. ‘Are you still sailing in the regatta race tomorrow?’

‘If it’s not cancelled,’ says Felix. His hood is pulled over his head and the storm collar of his coat is drawn across the lower half of his face so only his eyes are showing.

‘I hope you win,’ I say. ‘You deserve to.’

He pushes back his hood. ‘I asked Dad if you could sail with me tomorrow instead of him, but he says I’m not ready yet.’

‘Thanks,’ I smile. ‘But I reckon your dad wants to do this with you too.’

I push faster with my feet and the hills and sea spin all around us.

‘You know that sailing coach Dad got for me?’ says Felix.

I nod. ‘I saw you with him out on the water.’

Felix holds on to the roundabout with his good arm and leans out over the spinning concrete. ‘He wants to put me in the junior training squad for the Paralympics sailing team.’

I slam my foot down. The roundabout scrapes to a halt. ‘You’re kidding! Why didn’t you tell me before? That’s fantastic, Felix. Brilliant.’ I mean it too.

He pulls the storm collar from his face and looks right at me. ‘One of the race categories is for a disabled and an able-bodied sailor. Would you do it with me?’

The question takes me by surprise. I’ve never sailed any other boat except
Moana
.

‘We’d make a great team,’ he says. ‘We wouldn’t argue . . . much.’ He’s grinning now. ‘And we’d do all our training here, in the bay. We’ll train in my boat.’

I stare at the ground. I’d love the chance to sail again, especially to race with Felix, but for all I know, Dad’s got a job in Exeter. Soon we’ll be far away from here. I shake my head. ‘I don’t know, Felix,’ I say. ‘I don’t think it would work.’

‘But, Kara . . .’

‘Just leave it,’ I snap.

I stand up and walk away from him to the park fence. The town is sprawled out beneath me. The houses are darkened by the rain and the harbour is full of boats sheltering from the storm.

In the distance I see Dougie Evans’s trawlers rear up on the horizon. Maybe it would be better to be far away from here. I don’t think I could bear to see Dougie Evans sailing
Moana
in the bay. Felix leans on the fence next to me and we watch the trawlers come back across the heaving sea, like wolves returning from their hunt. Their prows rise over waves and slice down, sending up plumes of spray. A flock of seagulls trails in their wake, bright against the slate-grey sky. I guess the trawlers have come back with full nets this time.

‘I’m sorry I snapped,’ I say.

‘Just think about it,’ says Felix. ‘Promise me?’

I nod and stuff my hands deep in my pockets. ‘I’d better go. Aunt Bev wants me back for lunch.’

I walk with Felix across the play park. The wind whistles through the top bars of the climbing frame, like a gale through a mast. Big puddles spread across the tarmac and rain shines off the seesaw and the swings. Outside the gate we almost bump into Adam and his brother Joe running down the road, their footsteps slapping on the wet pavement.

Adam stops in front of us, his hands on his knees, panting. ‘Have you seen it?’

‘What?’ I say.

‘The great white shark,’ says Adam. ‘Dad’s heard that Dougie Evans has caught a great white shark in his nets.’

I shake my head. Joe pulls Adam’s arm and they set off towards the harbour. I can’t believe Dougie Evans has caught a great white shark. We don’t get them in these waters. He’s probably caught a basking shark. I know they can get to forty feet in length. But there’s a doubt in my mind because we sometimes get leather-backed turtles washed up here from more tropical seas.

‘Shall we take a look?’ I ask Felix.

Felix shrugs his shoulders. ‘Can you face seeing Jake again?’

‘It won’t be for long,’ I say. ‘I bet loads of other people are down there too.’

By the time Felix and I reach the harbour, a small crowd has gathered on the quayside beside one of Dougie Evans’s trawlers. We walk past the fish market. I glance through the clear plastic flaps of the entrance into the cool bright space inside. Yellow crates, full of fish, lie in rows along the concrete floor. Two of the fishermen inside are grinning widely. It’s been a good trip for Dougie Evans and his men.

I look around for Felix, but Jake is suddenly beside me. ‘Hey, Kara,’ he says. ‘Ever seen a great white shark before?’ He looks smug, but there’s something else, something more than boasting in his voice.

I look beyond him to the crowd of people.

I can see something lying on the ground half hidden behind rows of legs.

I try to push my way through, but Chloe’s suddenly next to me, pulling me away.

I can hear Jake’s voice again. ‘Come and see what my dad’s caught in his nets.’

Chloe pulls me harder. ‘Don’t look,’ she says. Her eyes are red with tears. ‘Come away, Kara.’

And suddenly I don’t want to be here, because I know it’s not a great white shark that Jake Evans wants me to see.

I want to turn away, but I can’t. I catch glimpses of it, smooth and grey between the legs of people crowded round.

I see Felix on the far side of the crowd. He looks sick and pale.

Overhead, a gull screams.

I push my way through, following Jake. There is no great white shark or basking shark. On the bloodied concrete lies the still grey body of a dolphin. Its eye looks unseeing into the leaden sky. I follow the smooth curve of its back to the dorsal fin, to a deep notch at the base.

I fall forward on my knees and taste the sharp acid of bile in my mouth.

Angel’s mother is dead.

I
 run. I don’t stop running until I reach the cove and sink down in the soft white sand. Thin trails of bright blood trickle down my arms into the water. I didn’t feel the gorse and brambles cut my skin, I just had to get here. I had to get away. I lie down and let the water swirl around me, soaking through my jeans. I rest my head upon the sand and close my eyes. And it floods over me again, that she is dead. Her staring eye and broken face stay fixed inside my mind and I can’t wash them out, however hard I try. It feels like part of me has gone, as if the part that kept Mum close has gone now too.

I press my forehead on the wet sand and dig my fingers in. I want to push my way into the sand and let it cover me and lie here for ever. It’s sheltered here. The running furl of surf and the soft patter of rain are the only sounds.

I lie like this and let the water swirl up around my jeans and shirt, scouring a small trench of sand around me. A small white pebble washes up the beach past my fingers. I watch the flecks of crystal catch the light. I turn to face the sea and watch it roll back down into the sheen of rain-spattered water, my cheek pressed into the sand. The waves rise and fall like folds of grey-green silk.

‘Pfwhooosh!’

I sit up.

I hear it again, that burst of dolphin breath. Angel is here, her white dorsal fin curving through the water. She’s come back here to find her mother, back to this cove where I first found her. But her mother isn’t here this time. Just me.

I wade out into the water. It rises over my waist and chest, and I can feel it pull on the heavy material of my jeans. I can see her again, not far from me. Her eye is pale pinkish grey. Her skin is the colour of pearl. She sends a series of whistles and clicks and I sense she’s calling to her mother. I reach out to touch her, but she slides away and disappears under water. I wade further out. The waves swell under me and lift me up, out of my depth.

‘KARA!’

I turn to see Felix and his dad standing at the clifftop.

‘Kara, get out of there,’ Felix’s dad yells. He’s waving both his arms at me.

Felix starts to slide forward on the ledge of dark grey rock. I know he won’t be able to balance or find a safe way down. I turn and wade out of the water and up the beach, my feet heavy in the soft sand. I look once behind me. The cove is empty. Angel has gone.

When I reach the clifftop, Felix’s dad pulls me up and wraps his coat around me. I feel cold. A deep, deep cold right through my bones. My hands are blue, and my fingers are blanched white.

‘We’ve got to get you back, Kara,’ he says.

I look back down into the cove. ‘We can’t leave her. She needs us now. We’re all she’s got.’

‘I’ve got to get you home,’ says Felix’s dad. ‘Your dad’s worried sick. He’s out there looking too.’

Felix’s dad guides me to the track beyond a field gate. I can hardly put one foot in front of the other and I can see Felix is struggling with the deep mud.