as I climb over the grassy lip of the cliff and start to scramble up the path. Bony fingers of last year’s brambles snatch at my hands. Up the path, up the track. What’s going to happen when I get home? I’ve been gone for hours. I was sitting in the sun when Morlader came to fetch us, and now it’s evening.
I reach our gate, dodge in past the rowan tree and through the door. We never bother to lock the cottage unless we’re going away.
I hope no one saw me running up the track with water dripping off my clothes.
“Conor? Mum? Roger?” I call. But I know they aren’t there. You can always tell if home is empty, because it has a completely different feeling. My voice echoes as if the cottage is a shell. I hurry up to the bathroom, strip off my clothes, find a towel and rub myself all over until my skin tingles. I’ll have to put on some of the hand-me-down clothes I hate wearing. And rinse my wet clothes quickly, to get the salt out of them before they shrink.
Mum mustn’t know. I put on an old pair of jeans that’s slightly too big for me, and a green top that’s about the best of the hand-me-downs. I clatter downstairs with my wet clothes in a bundle, quickly shove them into the washing machine and turn it on to Rinse and Spin.
Conor must still be down at Rainbow and Patrick’s, with Sadie. Mum and Roger have been over at Porthnance for hours. They must be buying up the town. Or maybe they’re just “getting a bit of space”. That’s what Roger says sometimes: Your mum and I need a bit of space. It’s extremely irritating, considering that Conor and I are out of the house most of the day. How much space do they need?
I make a mug of tea and a banana sandwich and carry them to the table. My body is limp with fatigue. It’s not swimming that’s worn me out – I can swim for miles in Ingo and not notice it. It’s the tunnel, and being so afraid, and then the tension of the Assembly and the battle of words and wits with Ervys. At least Faro and I didn’t have to come back through the tunnel. We came back the way the Mer usually go. It takes longer, but it’s much gentler. I couldn’t have faced the tunnel again. It’s easier when you do things innocently, for the first time, before you realise how tough they are.
Oh no, Conor’s carving is still in the zip pocket of my trousers! I punch the washing machine programme button and drag out the clothes. Water flops on to the floor but I don’t care. I unzip the pocket, and there’s the talisman. I lay it carefully on the table while I mop the floor, put the clothes back in the drum and restart the machine.
I sit down again. Under the electric light the carving is more beautiful than ever. I study it dreamily, admiring the strong curves of the Mer tail, the flowing hair, the line of the diving body. I know just how he feels as he plunges through Ingo, swooping through the water like a razor blade through silk. No, not really like a razor blade. Ingo welcomes you, and silk would never welcome the blade that cut it. Sometimes I have a very strange feeling that Ingo longs for me just as much as I long for Ingo. As if we need to be put back together in order to be whole. I must talk to Faro about it…
And then my eyes light on the headline of the newspaper that someone’s spread out on the table.
“New flood defence scheme for St Pirans!” it shouts. As if anything that humans can do would hold back the tides. I pull the paper towards me to read more, and that’s when I realise. It’s the Cornishman. But the Cornishman comes out on Thursdays, and it’s Wednesday today. This must be last week’s paper.
I stare at the date. It’s impossible. I blink, but the figures stay the same. I am looking at a newspaper which comes out tomorrow.
How long have I been gone? I’ve got to speak to Conor. But the flood took his mobile and he hasn’t got enough money yet for a new one. I’ve got to talk to Conor before I speak to Mum, then I’ll know what’s happening. If I’ve really been gone for a day and a half, then Mum will have contacted the police and the coastguard and everyone. But there’s no sign of that. The cottage is undisturbed. I remember what it was like after Dad disappeared, with neighbours and men in uniforms everywhere, and phones ringing.
There’s not even a note for me on the table. Mum would have left a note, surely. She wouldn’t have just thought, Oh well, Sapphy’s been gone for thirty-six hours but no worries, I’ll go and have a bit of space with Roger.
I know for sure that Conor went to Rainbow and Patrick’s. They might know something. There’s a landline number for them somewhere, if their landline is back on yet after the flood…
It is. I find the number in our phone’s memory, and to my relief there’s a normal dialling tone. After six rings, someone picks up.
“Hello?”
It’s Rainbow.
“Rainbow? It’s Sapphy. Is Conor still with you?”
“Oh, hi, Sapphy.” Her voice is relaxed, friendly, unconcerned. “How are you? Are you coming over?”
“Um, no, not just now – listen, Rainbow, can I have a word with Conor if he’s there?”
“Sure, wait a minute, he was here a second ago—”
And I hear Conor’s voice in the background, “Rainbow, can I take the phone in the kitchen?”
The phone is passed over. I hear footsteps and the door shutting. He’s gone into Rainbow and Patrick’s little back kitchen. I hold the phone, listening. Conor doesn’t say anything at all, but I know he’s there because I can hear him breathing.
“It’s me,” I say at last. “Are you all right?”
“Am I all right?” says Conor quietly and furiously. “What do you think, Saph? You’ve been gone since yesterday.”
“I was fine though, Conor, I was in—”
“I know where you were.”
“Conor – Mum, does she know?”
“She’ll be at work now. She thinks you’re here with me. I called her yesterday and said you’d decided to come down to Rainbow and Patrick’s and help out with the cleaning. And then it got late and so we all stayed over. But that’s it, Saph. It’s the last time I lie for you. Next time you can tell your own lies.”
“Conor, I—”
“I don’t want to hear it. Rainbow and Patrick don’t know anything. If they meet Mum, and Mum says something about you being here, they’re going to think we’re both liars. Why don’t you ever think? Why do you just plunge in and do whatever you want?”
I can’t find an answer to this. I look down at the talisman lying on the kitchen table.
“Elvira gave me something for you,” I say quietly. I hear a sharp intake of breath.
“What? What is it?”
“I can’t really describe it. I’ve got to see you, Con.”
Suddenly there’s a flurry of barking in the background. I hear a door burst open, and Rainbow’s voice apologising, “Sorry, Conor, Sadie was desperate to get to you. I couldn’t hold her back.”
The barking grows louder and louder.
“Steady, girl, it’s
