Stormswept. Helen Dunmore

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СКАЧАТЬ try to take his weight as Jenna feels her way carefully back downwards.

      By the time we’re on the flat sand I’m sweating all over. Jenna’s hair sticks to her forehead.

      “Wait, he’s slipping.”

      We get a firm grip again, and set off slowly, painfully, across the sand. It feels so exposed. What if someone sees us? They’ll think we are burying a body. Malin groans again as the groundsheet jerks. Oh no, we’re hurting him. We’re making things worse. I should have told Dad and Dr Kemp and let them help us—

      No. He wanted me to get him to the water. He didn’t want anyone else to know. We’re doing what he asked.

      It seems to take hours to reach the rocks. They’re not very high, but they loom over us like mountains now that we’ve got to get Malin up them. It’s so easy to climb up there usually that I hadn’t realised how difficult it would be with the dead weight of Malin between us.

      “Let’s work it out logically,” says Jenna, wiping her hair away from her eyes. Her voice is shaky but it’s her sensible, “Jenna-solving-a-maths-problem” voice. What’s logical about any of this? I think, but I say nothing.

      “We need to keep his head higher than his body,” she goes on. “It’s probably safest to go up side by side, don’t you think?”

      “OK.”

      “There’s a ledge for you there – and I can dig my foot in sideways, into that cranny. Let’s get up there first then work out the next foothold.”

      Jenna’s in full practical mode now. Whether or not Malin is real, there’s a job to be done and we’re here to do it.

      We daren’t risk falling with Malin, so we test each foothold over and over before we lift him. We only have to climb about ten feet, but the rocks are razor-sharp. If we dropped him…

      The sea doesn’t reach these rocks, even at high tide. Maybe it does sometimes, at the equinoctial spring tides, although I’ve never seen it. But every tide brings water sluicing in along the stone channel that I think was made by our ancestors long ago. He’ll be safe here. I hold on to the thought as I struggle with his weight. You’ll be safe soon. You’ll be back in salt water, I tell him, but not aloud. Very slowly and cautiously, we inch our way upwards, leaning into the rock for balance. My shoulder muscles burn. My arms ache in their sockets…

      “I’ve got him,” says Jenna, when she’s sure of her foothold, and I take the next small step upwards. Suddenly Malin’s weight shifts, as if he’s trying to move inside the groundsheet sling. I feel myself coming away from the face of the rock and fight with all my strength for balance. We teeter for a terrifying second, and then with all the force in my body I throw myself backwards. I lie against the rock, breathing hard, grasping him. I really have banged my head now. A wave of sickness rises into my mouth.

      “Morveren? Are you OK?”

      I can’t speak, but I nod my head and hope she can see it.

      “He moved,” says Jenna.

      He’s alive then.

      “Coming up,” says Jenna, and we are side by side again, with Malin level between us. The pain between my shoulder-blades is like fire. I brace myself against the rock, dig my foot into the next cranny, and haul myself upwards. Jenna follows.

      “We’re – almost there,” she pants.

      And then we are there. King Ragworm Pool shines darkly beneath us. Weed sways in its depth, and anemones cling to its sides like jewels. I have never been so glad to see water in my life. We lower Malin carefully on to the flat top of the rock, and unwrap the groundsheet.

      I lean over and say his name, my mouth close to his ear, but he doesn’t react. He’s unconscious, I think. Is he breathing? I wish I had a mirror, to see if it mists from his breath. But do the Mer breathe warmly, as we do? He’s so cold.

      “Do you think it’s safe to put him in?” asks Jenna, “What if he drowns?”

      Put him in sounds so awful, like putting a pet goldfish into a bowl. This whole day is making me feel horrible about being human. The responsibility of knowing what to do for Malin feels as heavy as his body when we were carrying him. If only he’d tell me how to help him into the water…

      But Malin is silent. He’s far away, in a place where no one can reach him. Come back, I whisper under my breath. Come back. He doesn’t stir or speak, but at that moment, deep inside me, his voice echoes: I must be in salt water if I am to live.

      “Mer won’t drown,” I say to Jenna, with more confidence than I feel.

      There’s no shallow end to King Ragworm Pool. The rock has been hollowed out by water over thousands of years, and the sides of the pool are sheer. There’s a ledge at the other end where Jenna and I usually scramble in and out of the water, but we can’t clamber all the way round there carrying Malin.

      “How’re we going to get him in?” asks Jenna.

      “Let’s move him to the edge. If we pull the groundsheet so it’s over the rock and down to the water, we can sort of slide him, maybe. I’ll get into the pool and then if you ease him over, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bang his head or anything.”

      “You’ll be freezing!”

      “Yeah, I thought of that.” I stand up and pull off my hoodie and jeans. “Hold him under the arms so I can get him in tail-first.”

      We get Malin to the very edge of the pool, with the protective groundsheet under him but not wrapped around him. Carefully, we pull the groundsheet free so that it hangs down, touching the water.

      “I’ll splash water all over him so he slides better.”

      “OK.”

      My toes grip the edge. King Ragworm Pool has never looked so cold and dark. I shut my eyes, stop breathing, and jump in.

      I come up gasping, throw my hair back, and swim to the side.

      “Stand back, Jen!”

      I tread water, raising myself high while I scoop up handfuls of water and throw as much as I can over Malin and the groundsheet. Then I brace my feet against the rock and kick backwards, gripping the end of the groundsheet. My weight pulls it tight, like a chute.

      “Push him now, Jen!”

      Jenna grunts with effort as she tugs and pushes, easing Malin over the lip of rock. The groundsheet tightens as Malin starts to slide. Suddenly there’s a rush of weight and movement. Just in time, I jack-knife away as Malin plunges over the edge of the rock and into the water. The pool surface breaks up and I can’t see him any more. Jenna’s leaning over the edge.

      “Where is he? Is he all right?”

      “He’s at the bottom.”

      I can see him now. For a second I think he’s moving, and my heart leaps with hope, but then I realise it’s only the disturbance of his fall.

      “I’m going to dive down and have a look.”

      “Be СКАЧАТЬ