The Complete Ingo Chronicles: Ingo, The Tide Knot, The Deep, The Crossing of Ingo, Stormswept. Helen Dunmore
will happen if you work on it. Sapphire’ll only get that dog if she makes it happen.”
“Did she mean I will get Sadie?” I burst out as soon as we’re far enough from the cottage. “Was it like a prophecy, when she sees into the future?”
“I don’t think so. I think it was just a piece of advice.”
“Oh. That’s no good then.” My curiosity gets the better of me. “Go on, Conor, tell me what you asked the bees.”
“I asked them if Dad was still alive.”
“What?”
“You heard. I asked them—”
“But why? How would they know?”
“You remember what I said about Dad coming up here last year? I thought that maybe Granny Carne had talked to the bees about Dad. Or even that Dad had talked to them. Maybe that’s how it works. Maybe the bees help her to see into the future.”
“You’d have noticed if Dad had gone up to the hive with her.”
“I might not have done. I was round the back, remember, watching the frogs. Anyway, when Granny Carne said that the bees have to be told about births and deaths, suddenly I thought that maybe they would know about Dad. And they would remember, because they keep their memories in the hive.”
I stare at Conor in dread. What have the bees told him? But surely he couldn’t look so normal if they’d said Dad was – not alive any more.
“So? What did they say?”
“Nothing,” says Conor. “I was an eejit to think they would. But there was something all the same…”
“What?”
“I don’t know. I can’t describe it. A warm feeling. A good feeling. I think they did listen to me. They didn’t mind me being there.”
“Conor, do you still really think Dad’s alive?” There. I’ve dared to say it at last. Sometimes I’m so scared that we’re just pretending to ourselves, month after month after month…
“Yes,” says Conor.
“Mum, what are you doing home already? It’s only two o’clock!”
“Are you all right, Mum?”
Mum blushes. “I thought you two were out for the day,” is all she can think of saying. There on the table is a pile of chicken and tomato sandwiches. Mum’s got the bread knife in her hand, ready to slice them. But what a huge pile: far more than Mum could ever eat. She must have made them for all of us.
I thought you two were out for the day.
No. Not for us, then. Thoughts whizz about in my head. The sandwiches are not the only food on the table. There’s a pot of olives, a straw basket of cherry tomatoes, a bag of cherries, a packet of my favourite crisps, which we hardly ever buy because they cost so much, and a bottle of wine. The kind of expensive stuff that doesn’t come into our house unless it’s left over from the restaurant. But these don’t look like leftovers.
Conor’s hand snakes into the cherry bag. Mum slaps it away.
“Get off! Those aren’t for you.”
“Who are they for, then?” asks Conor, but both of us have already guessed the answer. Roger. Roger has come home with Mum, while we were up at Granny Carne’s. Mum thought we were out of the way, so she said, Dear, darling Roger, do come to my beautiful cottage. My horrible children won’t be there.
“Won’t you lose your job if you just go home whenever you feel like it, Mum?” I ask her.
“Saph,” says Conor in a quiet, watch-what-you’re-saying voice, but I take no notice of him.
“So where’s Roger, then?” I ask.
“Right,” says Mum, dropping her knife with a clatter. “That’s it. I’ve finally had enough. You don’t want me to have any life at all, do you, Sapphire? As long as I’m working all the hours God sends and looking after you the rest of the time, you’re happy. But if I try to go out – or have a friend – oh no, that’s not allowed. Well, I’ve got news for you, my lady—”
Don’t say it, Mum, I beg inside myself. Don’t tell me you’re going to marry Roger.
“—I’ve got news for you.” Mum’s finger stabs the air. “I have got a life, not much I grant you, and just for once I’m going to do something for myself. Yes, I know those are your favourite crisps but just for once you’re not having them, and Conor’s not having those cherries either. I’m going on a picnic and it is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS,” yells Mum, and now her finger is stabbing right in my face. I jump back. The pile of sandwiches wobbles and begins to collapse. Conor leaps forward, but he’s too late. Chicken and tomato filling spatters over the floor.
I dive down to help but Mum shouts, “Leave them! I’m not giving anyone sandwiches that have been on this floor. Look at the state of it. I’ve asked you a dozen times to clean it, Sapphire.”
An evil spirit jumps into my mouth. “If we had a dog, the sandwiches wouldn’t be wasted,” I say. Mum’s hand slaps down on the table.
“Saph, go out. Just go outside,” urges Conor. But I can’t. I can’t even find the door, I’m crying so much.
“Oh Sapphy.” The next moment Mum’s arms are around me and I can feel that she’s starting to cry too. “Why do you do it? Why do you always make things so hard for everyone?”
“I don’t, it’s you that does—”
“It’s both of you,” says Conor flatly. “You’re both just as bad as each other.”
Mum pushes my tangly hair back and holds my face between her hands so that I’ve got to look at her.
“Listen to me. I wasn’t planning to come back, that’s why I didn’t tell you. What happened is that Roger came in while we were setting up for lunches, and said he was going to do his first dive today,” she says, in a voice which I know is meant to be soothing. “The weather’s perfect for it, and the tide. Gray was there too – he’s Roger’s dive buddy for this trip. They’re going to do an exploratory dive out by the Bawns. And Roger said he’d already asked Alissa at work if she’d swap shifts with me, and she was OK about it. So I’m going in to work tomorrow, on Alissa’s shift, instead of having my day off then.”
If Mum thinks I’m going to be distracted by details of her shifts, she’s mistaken. “But you don’t ever come down to the cove, Mum. You hate the sea.”
I feel as if Mum’s betraying everything. She’s turning into a different person. Dad always wanted her to come down to the water, and she never would. We never went out in the boat together. But now, because of Roger, suddenly everything’s changed and Mum’s longing to go for a seaside picnic.
“You won’t really go down to the cove, will you?” I ask disbelievingly.
“Oh yes, I will,” says Mum. “It’s all gone on long enough. It’s time to open up my life a bit.”
“You’re never going out in the boat with Roger and Gray!”
“No,” says Mum. “I can’t push myself as far as that yet. But maybe one day I will. Roger’ll help me.”
“Roger,” I say, trying to put everything I feel into the name.
“You shouldn’t be so dead against him,” says Mum.
“Why not?”
“Because