Midnight Dolphin (6 page)

Megan walked
slowly and sadly over the dunes back to the cottage. As she got
close, Megan could see the curtains of upstairs flick back into
place. Bethany was evidently already up and watching out for her
from their bedroom window. Megan let herself back into the cottage
as quietly as she could.

Just then Mum
came downstairs into the cottage kitchen.

‘
You alright
there love?’ she asked her daughter. Megan nodded and looked away.
The truth was that she felt numb inside, but didn’t know how to
tell her mother that. ‘You don’t look your normal self. You’re not
going down with something are you?’ Mum continued.

As soon as Mum
was up, Bethany bounded out of the bedroom and demanded breakfast,
taking up all Mum’s attention again. Then Dad got up and turned on
the radio for the weather forecast and the news. Amidst the noise
of family life, Megan was able to sit quietly and contemplate the
awful prospect of never being able to reach Jet again.

Mum and Dad
started to debate how to spend the day. Bethany said that she’d
like to spend the morning peering into rock pools and looking for
shells for her collection. She wanted to make a collage out of
them. Ordinarily Megan would have enjoyed a day rock-pooling as
well, but after the loneliness of staring out at the lapping waves,
Megan wanted to get away from the sea. She said that she really
wanted to spend the morning looking around Merwater on her own, and
to her surprise, her parents agreed.

An hour and a
half later they dropped her off in town near the small harbour, and
drove off, with Bethany waving a fishing net on a bamboo pole out
of the car window before the car turned the corner and disappeared.
Megan looked around her. It was a quiet morning, but despite the
early hour there was still a bustle in the harbour where fishermen
were unloading their catch. Several vans were parked at the
harbour’s edge to take the fish to the train station for their
onward journey to Billingsgate Market in London. Seagulls loitered
optimistically in the vicinity, watching out for any discarded fish
or entrails that they could snatch up.

Megan turned
her back on the harbour and walked past the hardware shops and
agricultural suppliers, and up into the main part of the high
street where the butchers shop sat next to the prim haberdashery
store. She turned left, off the main street and into the maze of
roads that led up the hill at the back of the town.

Before long
Megan found herself, as she knew she would, back in the cobbled
yard where the second-hand book shop was. On the other side of the
yard was a pub called the Drunken Owl, and next to the bookshop was
another shop selling brown earthenware pottery which to Megan’s eye
looked rather misshapen. The bookshop itself was called Owl Books.
There was the cat, Bilbo Baggins, asleep in the window as he had
been the previous time she’d visited. Megan glanced at her watch.
It was past ten o’clock now and according to the times pinned to
the inside of the shop door, it should have been open for business
ten minutes ago. But the ‘closed’ sign was still up and Megan
thought she had no option but to wait until it opened. She wasn’t
brave enough to hammer on the door and demand that she be allowed
in.

Megan turned
and began to look in the pottery shop window to pass the time. It
was all rather dusty in there and she wondered how many bowls and
earthenware mugs they actually managed to sell. Just then Megan
heard the bell above the door of the bookshop chime.

‘
Out you go Mr
Baggins’ she heard a voice say. ‘Go and get some fresh air.’ Megan
saw the cat run across the yard, jump onto a windowsill and
disappear through an open window into the pub opposite. Not much
fresh air there, Megan thought to herself. She looked back at the
source of the voice.

‘
Were you
waiting for me to open up?’ asked the lady standing at the door of
the bookshop. She’d just flipped the sign around from ‘closed’ to
‘open’. ‘Eager readers, that’s what I like to see!’

Megan had
hoped to see the girl who’d been minding the shop the last time she
was there, but this must be her mother, Megan thought.

‘
Do come in’
beckoned the lady, and Megan duly obliged and entered the shop. ‘Is
there anything that you were particularly looking for?’ she
enquired brightly. Megan suddenly felt shy and shook her
head.

‘
I just wanted
to look around’ she said, and made her way up one of the narrow
aisles between the high bookcases. As Megan tried to appear
inconspicuous, picking out random books to look at, there was a
thudding sound at the back of the shop as though someone were
running downstairs and a small door opened abruptly.

‘
Mum! Have you
seen my trainers?’ It was the girl who Megan had spoken to the
other day and who she wanted to speak to now. The girl’s head
appeared round the door. ‘I can’t find them anywhere.’ Megan looked
up happily, but still nervous. She was less sure about what she
wanted to say to the girl now, especially since the girl’s mother
was in the shop as well.

‘
Oh hello, how
are you?’ the girl said in a friendly tone when she saw
Megan.

‘
You two know
each other?’ asked her mother.

‘
Yes, this is
my friend, err…’

‘
Megan’ cut in
Megan, finishing the girl’s sentence.

‘
Oh why didn’t
you say?’ called her mother. ‘You go right on up with Rachel.’
Megan was happy to oblige, but she felt awkward doing so. Rachel
was years older than she was, and had said that she was studying at
University.

The staircase
at the back of the shop was very tight, uncarpeted and its wooden
walls were painted a pastel blue. They opened up on the first floor
into a living room, again with wooden panelled walls painted the
same delicate shade of blue. Several large flowers had been painted
directly onto the walls. The floor was scattered with large
Moroccan-looking cushions and a hookah water pipe sat in a corner
by the window.

‘
My Mum’s
still a bit of a hippy you know. Come on, take a seat and tell me
all about yourself.’ They sat down on the oversized cushions on the
floor and made themselves comfortable. Rachel soon coaxed out of
Megan the fact that she was on holiday with her Mum and Dad and
sister Bethany. Rachel said that she had just finished her first
year at University, but was going to switch from sociology to study
biology.

‘
So what is it
you really want to ask me about?’ Rachel laughed after they had
chatted inconsequentially for a while. Megan felt awkward
again.

‘
What do you
mean?’ she asked.

‘
It’s written
all over your face’ replied Rachel. ‘And besides, people normally
come to bookshops to find things out. It’s not unusual.’

‘
Well’ replied
Megan nervously. ‘I want to know about the dolphins and people, I
mean when they have a link between them.’

‘
I’m not sure
I follow you’ replied Rachel uncertainly.

‘
Some people
have special links with dolphins, and can use their minds to
communicate with them’ said Megan, trying to be clear. Rachel’s
face showed that she was beginning to understand what Megan was
talking about, and became quiet and serious.

‘
How do you
know all this?’ Rachel asked curiously.

‘
It’s because
I, well…’ stammered Megan.

‘
Because you
are one of them?’ guessed Rachel, finishing Megan’s sentence for
her. Megan looked down at the ground, feeling uncomfortable. Rachel
nodded to herself.

‘
Come on,
let’s go take a look at the books downstairs’ she said. I know
exactly where to start.’

There were a
few people browsing the shelves in the shop when they went back
downstairs again and they squeezed their way through to the till
where Rachel’s mother was absent-mindedly reading a
book.

‘
Mum, we need
the key to the glass cabinet’ Rachel announced. Her mother looked
up.

‘
Whatever
for?’ she asked.

‘
Megan here’s
asked a very interesting question, and we need to do a bit of
research. You don’t mind do you?’

Rachel’s
mother gave her daughter a questioning look, but handed over the
key. Just next to the counter was a glass-fronted cabinet where the
oldest and most expensive books were kept. Rachel turned the key to
open the case with an assured hand and pulled out a slim, leather
bound volume from one corner. She quickly relocked the cabinet, and
gave the key back to her mother.

‘
This is what
we want!’ she told Megan. ‘Let’s go back upstairs and take a look.’
Megan followed her back up the creaking stairs.

‘
Everyone
round here knows the story of Susan Penhaligon, and how she led a
group of children out into the stormy sea believing that they’d all
turn into dolphins.’ Megan nodded, pretending to have heard about
the story too. ‘But this journal that my Mum bought a couple of
years ago in a house clearance sale tells us a bit more about these
Dolphin Children’ continued Rachel.

She opened up
the journal. Megan craned over to take a look. It was closely
written by someone in copperplate handwriting, that was as
beautiful to look at as it was hard to read.

‘
It’s the
journal of a clergyman called Jeremiah Smith which he kept in the
eighteen fifties I think.’ Megan watched as Rachel squinted at the
handwriting and stroked her chin, as if to help herself
concentrate.

‘
Old Jeremiah
Smith went round speaking to the country people and fisher-folk and
writing down their stories’ she went on. ‘He was quite the social
historian of his day. I’ve had a good look at this already and I
wanted to take it with me to University but Mum says it’s far too
valuable and that she wants to sell it for at least fifty
pounds.’

‘
Is there
anything about dolphins in it?’ asked Megan hesitantly. She was
acutely aware that Rachel was years older than her and talk of life
at University sounded incredibly glamorous and grown up in
comparison to her life at secondary school.

‘
That’s the
thing, yes there is’ replied Rachel thoughtfully. ‘Let’s see if we
can find it.’ Rachel started turning the pages carefully, looking
for the right passage.

‘
Yes, here it
is, look.’ Rachel showed her the page towards the end of the
journal but Megan had trouble reading the copperplate handwriting
so Rachel read it out loud for her.

‘
Word has come
to me of a young woman of the parish who is still a Dolphin-Child
despite having attained the age of fifteen years. It is common in
the district for a girl or boy to have what the locals call “the
gift”, but I have never heard tell before of a Dolphin-Child that
retained the peculiar ability to communicate with dolphins beyond
the age of twelve or thirteen. I interviewed this young woman but
was quite unable to extract from her how it was that she had
managed to retain the gift. She was quite evasive in her answers
and evidently did not wish to divulge these matters to me. I sought
to coax the answers from her with kind words and then bold
entreaties, but to no avail. She asked to be excused and near fled
down the street away from me. I was mightily intrigued by this
encounter and was determined to learn more from one source or
another if I could.
’

‘
Does he say
any more then?’ asked Megan expectantly when Rachel paused and
looked up.

‘
No, no he
doesn’t’ Megan replied. ‘I’ve read the remainder of the journal but
it ends a month or two later without any further reference to
Dolphin-Children. But it’s clear he kept a journal over several
years and he must have continued his records of local life in
another volume. I’ve told Mum to keep her eyes peeled for any more
of the journals of Jeremiah Smith but they haven’t turned up yet.’
Rachel could see that Megan looked crestfallen.

‘
You’re
twelve, going on thirteen aren’t you Megan’ Rachel asked, regarding
her with a look of realisation in her eyes. ‘I’ve an idea that this
is not just of academic interest to you.’

Megan quietly
shook her head. She felt so disappointed. She thought that the
answer would be written there in the journal in black and white,
but it only tantalised her and didn’t answer anything. She looked
up and glanced at the clock on the wall.

‘
I’d better
get going’ she said. ‘My Mum and Dad will be picking me up in the
car from the harbour in about twenty minutes.’ Rachel looked
concerned. Megan seemed so young and forlorn and she desperately
wanted to learn more about Megan’s gift and to do something to
help.

‘
Look, let me
go and do a bit of research. I’ll speak to my mother. She knows all
the people who collect antiquarian books in the neighbourhood and
she might know someone who can help. Who knows what we can turn up
with a bit of sleuthing?’ Megan gave a small, sad smile.

‘
I’d like
that. I’ll see if I can get my parents to let me come back tomorrow
or the day after.’ Megan said her goodbyes to the older girl, and
then hurried back through the town to the harbour.

Chapter
Five
:

The following
evening Lucy sat cross-legged on her bed. She was trying to focus
and relax. She’d borrowed a book from the school library about
meditation and thought that it might help her reach out to Spirit
again.