The Crossing of Ingo. Helen Dunmore
now, Sadie girl. No gull will ever come into our cottage.” I wrap my arms around her neck and kiss her cold black nose, but she looks at me with scared eyes and I see she doesn’t really believe it. Even in her sleep, Sadie twitches and whimpers. She’s dreaming of gulls with cold yellow eyes and beaks that stab at her flesh. I’ll never let it happen again. I’ll throw myself on top of her so that they can’t get to her.
Conor has gone back to bed. In his view sleep is the best thing to do with a rainy day like this. I tried to talk to him about the Call but he was grumpy and monosyllabic – “Yeah, all right, Saph, we’ll work it out” – and then he dived back under the duvet. I’ve got to wake him up at one o’clock because we’re due at Jack’s house for Sunday dinner at one thirty.
When the knock comes at the door, I shout, “Come in, it’s open,” and quickly shove a heap of ironing off the table into the laundry basket. Some of our neighbours are all too curious about “How those two younguns are coping with their mum off in Australia”. They come round with a pie or a bunch of onions and their eyes dart round the kitchen, checking every heap of unwashed mugs.
It’s Granny Carne. Her old brown coat is dark with rain. She takes off her boots at the door and steps inside. Fortunately she has no interest in dirty crockery or unswept floors.
“Those gulls are thicker’n ever on your roof, my girl.”
“I know. Do you want a cup of tea?”
“Cup of tea would be good.” Her eyes burn on my back as I fill the kettle. “You want to do something about them,” she says.
“Yes,” I reply.
“I hear they hurt your Sadie.”
“We took her to the vet. She had to have stitches, but she’s OK now, except she’s been asleep most of the time since. She doesn’t want to come out from under the table.”
Granny Carne bends down and whistles softly. Immediately Sadie stirs. Shaking her head as if to shake away a bad dream, she creeps out from her shelter and rubs against Granny Carne’s long skirt. Sadie trusts Granny Carne more than anyone except me, ever since she almost died and Granny Carne healed her.
“She’s not looking so good, spite of what the vet’s done for her,” observes Granny Carne. A pang of dread goes through me.
“She’s all right. The vet said she was.”
“All right, is she?” asks Granny Carne. I look at Sadie. Her tail is down. She’s huddling against Granny Carne as if she wants to make herself disappear.
“She’s still scared that the gulls will get her,” I say.
“With reason good,” answers Granny Carne. “A dog can’t stay in a house all day long, cowering under a table. It’s not in her nature.” She bends down and strokes Sadie with a strong, reassuring hand. “It’s not in her nature, what’s going on here. You let me take Sadie, my girl.”
“Take Sadie!”
“You let her come up to my cottage where she’ll be safe. There’s no shadow of a gull there.” Granny Carne looks up, straight at me, hard and clear.
“But… but I look after her. I won’t let anything hurt her.”
Granny Carne glances down at Sadie’s back. She doesn’t say anything about the injury. She doesn’t need to. “Listen, Sapphire. Nothing of Ingo is going to come close to where I am. Sadie can walk on the Downs with me and be free. Those gulls lifted off your roof the moment they saw me put my foot to your threshold. But once I’m gone, they’ll be back, and more of them each day. You want your dog to be frightened out of her life? You give Sadie to me and no harm will come near her.”
Sadie is watching Granny Carne’s face very closely, following the conversation. She whines deep in her throat, as if agreeing.
“But I can’t. She’ll miss me too much.” I’ll miss her too much, is what I don’t say. “Sadie needs me.”
“How will you look after Sadie where you’re going?” asks Granny Carne. Her face is stern, intent. There is no point trying to pretend I don’t know what she means.
“How do you know?”
“You’ve been called to make that Crossing. You remember I told you once, my girl, neither hell nor high water would stop you once your heard that Call. And your brother too. Look at your face. Look at those gulls gathering. There’s some in Ingo don’t want you to make it, seemingly.”
“But we can’t go. Sadie – Mum—” Suddenly the reality of it hits me as hard as a blow. I am only going to hear that Call once in my life. If I don’t go, I’ll feel as if something has reached inside me and ripped my spirit down the middle like a piece of paper.
“Some things, if you don’t do them, they follow you all your life, whispering in your ear,” says Granny Carne. She faces me sternly as if she’s judging me. “You’ll find a dozen good reasons why you pulled back from the Call, and you’ll even fool yourself that you had no other choice. But in your bed at night you’ll curse yourself for a coward.”
I stare at her in astonishment. Why isn’t Granny Carne trying to keep me here, as she’s always tried before? It feels like a cold wind whistling through me. Granny Carne isn’t going to stop us. The choice is completely ours.
I hear the creak of Conor’s loft ladder. He’s heard voices and he’s coming down to see who is here. The door opens and he ambles into the room, yawning and wrapped up in his duvet as usual.
“Granny Carne.” A slow, warm smile spreads over Conor’s face.
“Yes. I’ve been talking to your Sapphire. The two of you are going out into the world, seemingly.” Conor shoots me an accusing look.
“I didn’t tell her. She knew,” I say quickly. “But, Con, I can’t see how we’re going to do it. There’s Sadie, and Mum, and everyone else. They’ll think we’ve – we’ve disappeared.”
“Like Dad,” says Conor. He frowns, thinking. Conor is logical. He always looks to find a path to a solution. Usually it works, but this time logic isn’t going to help. Granny Carne isn’t going to help either. She stands there, watching, waiting.
“There’ll be more than those gulls wanting to stop you,” she observes.
“I know,” says Conor.
“I’ve no rowan berries for your protection this time. You’ll have to go alone.”
Without meaning to, I glance down at the bracelet on my wrist. My deublek. Granny Carne’s gaze follows mine. “Earth can’t help you in the Crossing.”
“We’re not helpless,” says Conor hotly.
“I know that, my boy.” Granny Carne’s ancient, hardened face remains impassive, but her eyes soften as she looks at Conor. “I can’t give you anything. No berries, no touch of fire. There’s no Earth magic where you’re going, only what’s inside yourselves.” She pauses. Her owl eyes are lit up now, fierce and bright. “But never forget how strong that is. Come here, give me your hands.” She takes Conor’s outstretched hands and presses his thumbs together. “Think of what’s strongest for you here on Earth,” she whispers. “Let it come to you. Don’t force your thoughts now.”
Conor closes his eyes. I look away. I feel as if I shouldn’t spy into his thoughts. There is a long silence, then Conor opens his eyes again. He looks surprised, as if what came into his mind wasn’t what he’d expected.
“Now you, Sapphire.” My thumbs touch. It feels like a connection being made. “Think of what’s strongest for you here on Earth,” she says. “Let it come to you.”
I don’t even have to think. Sadie leaps into my mind, bounding down the track towards me. Her eyes glow, and her golden coat shines in the sun. I hear her bark. My thumbs feel as