White Dolphin (20 page)

‘Wait here, both of you,’ Felix’s dad says. ‘I’ll get the car and pick you up.’

I slide down against the stone wall, out of the cold blast of wind, and watch Felix’s dad jog away from us along the track. I press my back into the long grasses and fold my arms around my knees.

Felix slides down beside me and pulls his hood over his head. ‘People in town are mad at Dougie Evans for what he’s done.’

‘Won’t change anything,’ I say. I pull a piece of grass and wrap it round and round my hand. Dad was right. If we can’t get all the fishermen on our side, then we can’t save the reef. I don’t think there’s anything anyone can say or do to make someone like Dougie Evans change his mind. I wonder just how much he has to lose before he sees there will be nothing left.

I strip the wet seed heads from the grasses and flick them in the air. Mr Andersen’s car headlights find us through the drizzle.

Felix pushes himself to his feet and reaches deep into his pocket. ‘I’m not sure I should show you this,’ he says. He looks around at his dad’s car bumping along the track. ‘I told my dad I wouldn’t. But I thought if I were you I’d want to know.’

‘What?’ I say.

Felix pulls out a white envelope and holds it in his hand. ‘There was something else on that memory stick,’ he says. ‘Dad looked into it. He’s got some contacts.’

‘What, Felix?’

Felix stands in front of me and stuffs the envelope in my hand. ‘Hide it. Don’t let Dad see.’

I feel my heart thud against my chest. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

‘It might help you understand, that’s all.’

The car pulls up beside us and Felix’s dad gets out. ‘Come on then, you two.’

I slip the envelope under my jumper and slide in the back seat next to Felix. ‘Understand what?’ I whisper.

Felix’s dad twists round in his seat. ‘What are you two talking about?’ he says.

‘Nothing,’ says Felix. He frowns and turns away.

We sit in silence as we bump along the rutted track. I hold the envelope tight against my chest and feel the corners press deep into my skin.

It holds something to do with Mum.

A missing key to where she is, maybe.

I
 stare at the photograph for the hundredth time. The shock of seeing Mum jolts through me once again. She’s crouched down beside her diving gear, her hair tucked back behind her ears, a look of deep concentration on her face. I’ve seen her check her diving gear before, running through the list of safety checks in her head. It’s pointless trying to talk to her like this. She can block out the outside world, absorbed in every detail of her work. Palm trees line the backdrop of a foreign port. The stern of a container ship fills the left half of the view and the right half shows a busy port with ships and cranes along docksides stretching into the distance. Rucksacks and boxes are piled up by Mum. I see her rucksack with them too. Shadows slant deep and long so it must be early morning or late at night, I can’t tell. I can almost imagine her face turn to look at me.

‘Kara!’

I stuff the photo back under my pillow, where I slept on it all night. I don’t want anyone to know. I’ve stayed in Daisy’s bedroom all morning, hiding from Aunt Bev. She’s been cleaning the house like mad, clearing out the cupboards and changing all the sheets.

‘Kara,’ Aunt Bev shouts again, ‘Felix is here. He wants to know if you’re going to the regatta.’

I climb down the stairs into the kitchen. I can hear cartoons blaring from the sitting room and guess Daisy’s trying to avoid her mum too.

Aunt Bev is leaning on her mop, beads of sweat pricked on her forehead. All the surfaces are cleared away and tidy and I notice the oven’s sparkling clean. Even the windows have had a polish.

I tiptoe across the floor to Felix standing on the doormat and pull him into the hallway. ‘I didn’t think you were going to the regatta,’ I say. ‘Didn’t you hear the race is cancelled? There’s a storm coming.’

Felix shrugs his shoulders. ‘I know, but I thought I’d see what was happening in town. Want to come?’

I nod. ‘I’ll get my shoes.’

I pull my sandals from the shoe rack in the hall. ‘I’m going into town with Felix,’ I yell.

Aunt Bev leans against the doorframe and watches me strap up my shoes. She stretches and rubs the small of her back. ‘Take Daisy with you, Kara. I’ve too much to do today.’ She pulls some money from the tin above the microwave. ‘Here’s ten pounds to get a hot dog each.’

I stuff the money in my pocket and walk with Felix along the coast road. Daisy runs ahead of us scattering gulls up into the sky.

‘Did you look at it?’ says Felix.

I nod.

‘It was taken at Honiara,’ he says, ‘a port on the Solomon Island of Guadalcanal. It was taken just before sunset on the night your mother disappeared.’

We walk in silence for a while. I’m glad Felix’s told me the facts, just plain and simple.

‘How did you get it?’ I say.

‘There was a folder on the memory stick marked Honiara. There were lists of addresses: hotels, car rentals, and diving centres. A colleague of Dad’s who’s done some business out there made a few enquiries for him. He found this photo in the archives of a local paper.’

I stop and turn to Felix. ‘So why haven’t we seen this before, from the investigation at the time?’

Felix shrugs his shoulders. ‘Dad’s colleague says the story wasn’t run. It was bad publicity. Bad for tourism.’

I lean on the railings and stare out to sea. The photo’s proof that Mum went out diving that last night, but it doesn’t tell what happened. There’s no clue to where or why she went.

Despite the warm and humid air, the beach is empty. The sea is a pale pearly green. A deep ocean swell lifts its polished surface into smooth ripples, like antique glass. Yet no one is in the water. It is calm, too calm. Everything is still. The flag above the chandlery hangs limp and loose. Even the seagulls have left the air and are lined up on roofs and chimney pots and along the sea wall. It feels as if the whole sky is pressing down on us. The storm’s eye is above us now. This is the calm before the storm, and we are given time to think and breathe. Yet we are being watched, it seems.

Daisy runs back and pulls my arm. ‘Come on,’ she says. ‘Let’s go into town.’

We walk through the narrow streets under bunting hung between the shops and houses. Dad is outside the Merry Mermaid clearing plates. He waves and smiles to us as we pass and I give a small wave back. In the square outside the town hall are several stalls and games. The mayor is in the stocks waiting for wet sponges. There’s a coconut shy and a strongman game. A brass band is playing too and a team of majorettes are twirling batons and marching up and down. I buy hot dogs and sit with Felix and Daisy on one of the benches in the square. I look across at Felix. I don’t feel in the mood for this and I can tell he feels the same way too. I let Daisy have the change from the money for the hot dogs and watch her run off to play a game of hook the duck and spend her money on the stalls.

It’s only when she’s run out of money that she comes back and flops beside us, a fluffy duck and a packet of fudge in her hands.

‘Let’s get you home,’ I say.

We walk towards the sea front along the road above the harbour. A small breeze lifts the edges of my shirt.

‘Feel that?’ I say.

Felix nods.

I look across to the flag above the chandlery. Its edges curl and ripple in the breeze. A new wind is blowing from the west. Dark clouds unfurl across the milk-white sky. A shiver runs down my spine and goosepimples prickle along my arms and legs, because out across the ocean a storm is coming, and we lie directly in its path.

We turn down a narrow stepped street between old cottages to the harbour.

‘Hey, Two Planks!’

I glance behind. It’s Jake and Ethan coming down the steps behind us.

Daisy takes hold of my hand and holds it tight.

‘Hey, Kara,’ shouts Jake. ‘Did you hear I’m moving house?’

We keep walking, but Jake and Ethan catch us up. Felix is struggling with the steps. The handrail stops halfway down the slope.

‘Dad’s buying one of them posh houses up on the hill that look over the bay,’ says Jake. ‘Massive garden. He said he’d get me a quad bike too.’

I ignore Jake.

‘Dad says he’ll call it Shell House,’ says Jake. ‘Know why, don’t you? It’s from the profits of the scallops from the bay.’

I want to keep walking but Felix is at the top of a run of steps. I know he doesn’t want me to help him, so I wait beside him while he makes his own way slowly down. His face is lined with concentration trying to balance on the steps.

‘Shame the regatta’s cancelled,’ says Jake. ‘It’s just I thought you’d like to see me sail
Moana
in the race.’

‘You can’t even sail,’ I say.

‘Ethan and me have sailed before,’ laughs Jake. ‘It’s not that hard.’

‘You’ve done a couple weeks’ dinghy sailing with school,’ I say. ‘That’s all.’

‘Can’t be that hard if he can do it.’ Jake jerks his head in Felix’s direction. ‘He can hardly walk.’

Ethan explodes with laughter.

I feel Felix tense up beside me.

‘We’ll race you,’ says Jake, ‘us in
Moana
and you two in the loser boat. We’ll even give you a head start.’

I turn to face Jake. ‘There’s no regatta today,’ I say. ‘There’s a storm coming.’

Jake throws his head back and laughs. ‘As if I’m scared of that!’

I turn away. It’s not worth arguing any more.

Jake strides off. ‘Come on, Ethan. Fancy a sail around Gull Rock?’

I watch them disappear around the corner of the end house of the street.

‘They wouldn’t,’ I say. ‘Would they?’

As we reach the harbour, big drops of rain slide from the sky and hit the pavement, spotting the pale cement dark grey. I feel the heavy drops land in my hair and on my clothes. The sky is almost black, and beyond the harbour the sea heaves in big green swells. There are no white horses out there yet, just the rolling curves of waves.

‘I don’t believe it.’ I point down to the pontoon. Jake and Ethan are in
Moana
. They’ve pulled back the tarpaulin from her boom and I can see them rigging up the mainsail.

‘They’re crazy,’ says Felix.

‘Dougie Evans would have a fit if he knew Jake was going out to sea,’ I say. ‘Come on, we have to stop them. Not just for their sake, but
Moana
’s. They’ll wreck her if they try.’

I climb down the ladder while Daisy follows Felix down the ramp. By the time I reach
Moana
, Jake and Ethan have the mainsail up and the jib. They’ve not even reefed the sails. A gust of wind catches the sail and swings the boom out over the water.

‘Don’t be stupid, Jake,’ I yell.

But Jake just laughs and holds his hand out to feel the wind. ‘A summer breeze, that’s all,’ he says.

But there’s something more than bragging in Jake’s eyes. There’s fear too, as if he’s gone too far and can’t find his way back.

I pull
Moana
closer and her fenders bump against the pontoon.

‘Don’t do it, Jake,’ I say. ‘Your dad’s lost Aaron. He doesn’t want to lose you too.’

Jake just stares at me. Heavy drops of rain slide from the sky and pit the water’s surface. The drops fall faster, thick and heavy, and soon there is a screen of rain between us. I can’t make out his face any more. He unties
Moana
and pushes off with a paddle. Ethan’s at the tiller.
Moana
slides across the water and thumps into a small cruiser moored against the other pontoon. Jake pushes off again, and this time Ethan points
Moana
’s bow to the harbour opening. She scrapes against the harbour wall and I hear the scars tear in her side. Jake looks back once before
Moana
slips out of the harbour, the tip of her mast showing above the harbour wall. And it’s only now I realize too, that Jake and Ethan have no life jackets at all.

‘We’ve got to stop them,’ I say. I look around the harbour, but the walls are empty. The rain has driven everyone away.

‘We’ll take my boat,’ says Felix. He leans down and starts untying the cover.

‘Don’t go,’ says Daisy.

I look at her. She’s freezing cold and wet through. I kneel down beside her and hold her hands in mine. ‘Be brave, Daisy. Go and find my dad. He’s in the Merry Mermaid. Tell him what’s happened. Tell him to call the coastguard.’

‘Please don’t go, Kara,’ she begs. Her eyes are big and full of tears.

‘I have to,’ I say.

‘You’ll disappear. You won’t come back.’

I put my arms around her and wonder if this is how Mum felt when she left. ‘I’ll be careful,’ I say. ‘I’ll come back, I promise you.’

Daisy pulls away from me. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘You can’t, Daisy,’ I plead. ‘It’s too dangerous for you.’

Felix looks up from what he’s doing. ‘Daisy,’ he says, ‘someone has to call the coastguard. We might need help out there.’

Daisy looks at him and I see her bottom lip tremble.

‘Right now, I need that fairy godmother, Daisy . . .’ says Felix, ‘. . . she might be the one to save us.’