The Shiver Stone (7 page)

I thought for a minute. ‘Do you think that's where this Kemble Sykes saw him too?'

‘Maybe.'

Something else had been going around in my mind. ‘Do you know what
Vulpes
Vulpes
means?'

He shook his head and the shell in his hair swung round and hit him in the teeth. It must have hurt but he pretended not to notice.

‘It's tattooed on your dad's arm. The weird thing is it's tattooed on Kemble Sykes' arm too. It must be a secret club or something. Your dad wouldn't tell me what it meant when I asked him.'

Jago shook his head again. This time he'd grabbed hold of the shell in his hair so it wouldn't swing round and hit him in the face.

‘Okay, one more dive,' I said.

Jago sighed. ‘Do you want me to video you again?'

‘Course.'

He held my phone up towards the cliff, squinting through the viewer.

‘She's still there,' he said.

‘Who?'

‘Some woman. She's behind that boulder. She's been watching us with binoculars.'

I had no objections to an audience.

‘This dive will be the best one yet,' I said.

The breeze was stronger and it stole the heat out of the day. A cloud passed across the sun and I shivered. I took a deep breath and stood still and tall, my feet inching off the ledge.

I stared out at the sea, focused and went through the motions in my head.

Bend your knees.

Extend your arms...

But this time, as I jumped, I felt my ankle twist beneath me. I struggled in mid-air, trying to straighten my body, but the water came up too fast.

I felt my legs arch to the left and then the hard smack and sting of pain as I entered the water. Instead of a neat splash the water crashed around me.

When I surfaced this time I wasn't smiling.

Jago was.

‘That was rubbish,' he said, handing me my towel.

‘I slipped.'

‘Yeah, well, still rubbish.'

My ankle hurt where it had twisted and my legs were red and burning. It was a rubbish dive and I was angry with myself.

‘Like to see you do better.' I pushed him once, hard. He tumbled off the rocks, slipping and sliding on the seaweed and, with a cry, fell headlong into the deep gulley of water.

He came up struggling and thrashing and trying to shout something, but a wave splashed into his mouth and he went under again.

I was laughing so hard I almost fell in myself.

The second time he surfaced, coughing and choking, I stopped laughing.

‘Can't swim,' he gasped.

In a flash I was in the water beside him, but he was struggling and fighting in panic.

He went under again and I felt the same panic tighten my chest.

‘Get to the rocks.'

I tried pushing him, but his flailing arms hit me in the face. He was stronger and taller and wild with fear. I managed to steer him to the cliff edge but a wave washed over us and I saw the terror in his eyes.

Again and again he grabbed at the rocks, but they were slippery with seaweed and sharp with limpet shells. The struggling and thrashing was making him weak.

Panicking, I screamed at him, ‘Grab on and pull yourself up, for God's sake!'

‘I can't! I can't!'

Another wave crashed in and his face disappeared in a wild spray of froth and foam. I heard him splutter and, when he came up again, he had drifted further away.

I started shouting. ‘Help! Help!' But in my heart I knew that even if someone heard me it would take too long to climb over the headland and down to the tiny inlet where the waves were growing stronger as Jago grew weaker.

CHAPTER

7

A wave swelled behind Jago and I saw, with a thudding heart, that it would carry him towards the mouth of the cave. If I could get out and…

I scrambled onto dry land. Every inch of my body trembled with exertion and fright. What if he drowns? What if he drowns? The thought pounded in my head. In seconds I was at the cave entrance.

I splashed desperately through the water searching for Jago. I saw a flash of red swimming trucks. Grabbing his thrashing arm, I clung on tight. He tried to pull himself out, but the pebbles under his feet were rolling and shifting with the underwater current – he couldn't stand. It was like a tug of war between the sea and us as the force of the tide tried to drag him back out. A tug of war we were losing. Jago's hair was slicked dark against his white face. He was spitting out water, retching and coughing.

I felt him slip away from me. I gritted my teeth, heaving backwards with all my strength.

From nowhere, a hand stretched down and grasped him by the hair. ‘Quick! Now pull!'

Together we dragged him out and he crumpled, trembling, on the rocks.

I collapsed beside him and we lay flat out on our backs, panting, gasping and shuddering.

At last Jago raised himself on his elbows. ‘You pushed me in.' He was furious.

‘How was I to know you can't swim! You said earlier that you weren't much of a swimmer. You didn't say you couldn't swim at all. I don't know anyone who can't swim. It's like saying you can't breathe!'

‘You should have checked before you pushed me in!'

‘I pulled you out!'

‘You wouldn't have had to pull me out if you hadn't PUSHED ME IN!'

We were both shouting so loud it was a surprise when a quiet voice behind us said, ‘Hey, hey, it's okay now. Everything's okay, no harm done.'

We turned and saw the woman leaning against a boulder. She looked strangely familiar.

‘Yeah, well, no thanks to her. If you hadn't been here…' Jago was too mad to even finish what he was saying.

‘It's just lucky I happened to be passing,' she said.

He scraped his long hair out of his eyes, twisting it and wringing the water out with his hands. ‘But you weren't.' Jago was staring at her.

She was drying off her shorts with a towel and stopped to look up.

‘What?'

He narrowed his eyes against the sun. ‘You weren't just passing. You were up there watching us with binoculars.'

The woman's face blushed deep red right up to the roots of her short black hair.

‘I don't know what you mean. I was bird-watching when I heard you shouting and … and…'

‘Lucky for us you were,' I said.

Jago suddenly went into a coughing fit.

‘I've got a drink here,' the woman said.

She took a bottle of water from a bag and handed it to Jago. He nodded his thanks and drank quickly, swallowing hard.

‘That's the salt water I expect,' she said. ‘It'll make your throat sore for a while.'

As she turned around we both saw it.

She wore only a bikini top and shorts and it ran deep and red and ugly down her spine like a snake. It was a shock against her white skin. A scar – a scar as thick as my finger running from her neck all the way down her back.

When she saw us staring, I looked away, embarrassed.

Jago didn't.

‘What happened to your back?' His voice was croaky and he coughed to clear his throat.

‘An accident,' she said, ‘a long time ago when I was a kid. I needed a lot of surgery. Couldn't walk for a while.'

She pulled a t-shirt out from her bag and hastily put it on, covering the scar.

She didn't seem in any hurry to leave. She brought out a packet of Oreos. I was suddenly hungry and took three.

Jago shook his head. ‘Throat still sore,' he said.

He went to hand the water back to her, but she said, ‘Keep it.'

And that's when I recognised her. She'd been wearing different clothes and glasses I think, but it was her all right.

‘You're the woman in the Troll Hole.' The Troll Hole bit came out by accident. I quickly changed my words. ‘The tunnel, I mean. It was you who found Tia this morning, wasn't it?'

‘Tia?'

‘Our dog, well, his dad's dog.'

For a minute I thought she was going to deny it. She hesitated and then gave an odd laugh.

‘Oh was that your little dog? How strange we should meet again. And where is the dear little thing now?'

‘At home in the shed with Dad.'

‘A shed doesn't seem like a safe place to keep a dog who likes to run away.'

‘If he has to leave her for a minute or two he'll make sure she's tied with her lead but, like I said, she doesn't usually run off. We can't have her in the flat. No dogs allowed. We sneak her in at night though. She's safe on my bed then.' I thought for a minute. ‘You rescued Tia and Jago today.'

‘Didn't need rescuing,' Jago mumbled.

I was going to have something to say about that, but just then a shower of stones tumbled down from above.

We all looked up to see a group of people leaning over the cliff edge near the Shiver Stone.

‘They need to get back from there. It's really dangerous,' I said.

‘I saw you dive from not that far below,' the woman answered, still looking up at the top of the cliff.

‘My dad dived off the top, off Shiver Stone ridge, when he was only thirteen. The youngest kid in the village to do it, ever. Not many adults have managed it. One guy, a tourist, tried a few years back and ended up paralysed. It's too scary for me.'

‘The Shiver Stone, is that its name? It's an impressive rock. There's something spiritual in these stones. I live near the stone circles of Avebury. They're quite magical. If I'm frightened or worried I speak to the stones – they always help me. They're my friends.'

She was staring up at the Shiver Stone and it was like she'd forgotten we were there. Her voice went all floaty. ‘The stones are places of death and sacrifice,' she said, ‘timeless, motionless…'

She was starting to creep me out and, when I looked at Jago, he rolled his eyes at me.

‘Um, guess we'd better be going now. Thank you for – you know, for all the rescuing and stuff,' I said.

‘What?' She shivered, as if waking up out of a dream. ‘Oh, it was nothing. I'd better be off too. Back to my birdwatching.'

She slung a pair of binoculars around her neck and started the climb up over the headland. Before she was out of sight she turned and gave a short wave.

We waved back.

‘Freeeeaky,' I said.

‘I'm cold now and I want to go home,' Jago moaned. We crawled over the rocks to the other side where our clothes and things were scattered across a boulder. Jago grabbed his jeans and t-shirt and pulled them on roughly before packing his geology stuff away.

‘Lucky she was here though,' he finally admitted. He dragged his wet hair back into a ponytail. It made him look different.

I inspected a graze on my knee. Then got dressed too.

‘That woman, there's something…' I didn't get to finish my sentence. My mobile gave its message ping. I picked it up and peered at the screen. There were five missed calls from Dad and three texts:

Carys & Jago, come home right away!

Carys & Jago, come home now!

COME HOME!