The Crossing of Ingo. Helen Dunmore
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Название: The Crossing of Ingo

Автор: Helen Dunmore

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Детская проза

Серия:

isbn: 9780007373253

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СКАЧАТЬ pink ribbons around their necks, mincing past the judges – and Sadie bounding around the ring, chasing imaginary rabbits. Maybe not…

      “I am going to get that ladder,” says Conor. “While the gulls are out of the way it’s a good chance.”

      “Don’t, Conor. What if they come back?”

      “I don’t like the way there are more and more of them all the time,” says Conor quietly.

      He is right. It was just one gull to begin with, and then two, but sometimes there’s a whole row of them standing motionless on the spine of our roof now. They watch everything. They know that Conor and I are alone in our cottage.

      “I counted eight yesterday evening,” says Conor.

      We’re not really alone, I tell myself quickly. Granny Carne told Mum she’d watch out for us. Our neighbour Mary Thomas and everyone else in the village “keeps an eye”, which can be quite annoying at times. We go to school as normal. But at night we’re alone in the cottage.

       Don’t be so pathetic, Sapphire. You can manage fine. Look at how Rainbow and Patrick cope when their parents are away in Denmark for weeks on end. They just get on with it.

      The trouble is that I spent so much time and energy convincing Mum it was safe to leave us, that I forgot about how I might feel once she was gone. As soon as Mum and Roger’s taxi had bumped away down the track and I saw one gull watching from the roof, I began to feel uneasy. If Mum had known about Ingo, or the forces that were gathering there, or the battle between Ervys and Saldowr, or any of a hundred things that Conor and I know and have kept from her so carefully, then she would never have left the cottage.

      Saldowr said we would see Dad again, when the Mer assembled to choose who would make the Crossing of Ingo. Dad will have his own free choice too, one day – to decide whether to stay in Ingo or return to Air. He’ll be able to decide his own future. What if Mum knew that?

      It’s strange how different it feels now that Mum isn’t here. Even Roger’s absence changes things. It’s as if we are boats which were held safe by an anchor, and we never realised it. Now the anchor has been pulled up and we might drift anywhere. When it gets dark the wind roars around our cottage so loudly that it feels like being in a boat at sea. You can easily believe that you have already left the Earth and are halfway to Ingo. Winter is coming. The dark is growing stronger every day.

      “I’m going to see if I can reach that nest. Help me get the ladder out of the shed, Saph.”

      “You can’t destroy their nest, Con! What if there are babies in it?”

      “I won’t do anything to them. And why would gulls try to lay eggs at this time of year anyway? The chicks wouldn’t have a chance of survival.”

      “What if they come back and attack you?”

      What if the gulls are spying for Ervys? is what I want to say, but I keep quiet. Conor will think I’m imagining things as usual. But to my surprise he says what I’m thinking.

      “I don’t want them spying on us.”

      “Do you think they are spies, Con?” I ask, lowering my voice to a whisper.

      “Whatever they are, I don’t want them there.”

      “Don’t get the ladder, Con. Please.” I’ve lost Dad – or as good as lost him. Mum’s gone to Australia. My brother’s got to stay safe.

      Conor’s expression changes. “Don’t panic, Saph. I’m not planning to fall off the roof and break my neck. You hold the bottom of the ladder and it’ll be fine.”

      The ladder is heavy. We drag it across the garden and hoist it against the wall. It’s the one Dad used when he painted the outside of our cottage. I remember the last time he did that. The fresh white against the storm-battered old paint.

      “Hold it like that, Saph. Lean all your weight against it.”

      “Be careful, Conor.”

      He goes up the ladder quickly. Con’s used to ladders because his bedroom is up in the loft.

      “Can you see anything?” I ask.

      There’s a pause. Conor is at the top. He hasn’t got anything to hold on to now. He braces his feet on the top rung and leans forward, then carefully stretches to his right, towards the chimney.

      What if they come back? If they strike at him now, when he’s off balance, he’ll fall. I turn and scan the horizon. No black dots of gulls. I turn back to Conor. “Is it a nest?” I shout up.

      “Yes.” His voice sounds strange. He’s leaning right across to the chimney. His hand is almost in the dark mass of the nest. He’s taking something out of it. Now he’s looking at what’s in his hand.

      Conor freezes. Sadie and I stare upwards in suspense. Slowly Conor’s hand closes around whatever he’s found. He teeters as if he’s forgotten he’s at the top of a ladder. For a second I think he’s going to lose his balance. At my side, Sadie lets out a volley of warning barks. I turn around and see dark specks on the horizon, growing bigger as I watch. The gulls.

      “Conor! Get down quick! The gulls are coming.”

      Conor scrambles down the ladder one handed. As he jumps to the ground, Sadie leaps around him, barking protectively. The sky is suddenly full of gulls. A cloud of beating wings hides the chimney as they circle the nest, screeching out their anger.

      Conor’s holding a handful of seaweed. “Is that what the nest is made of?” I ask.

      He nods. “It’s all woven together.”

      “But gulls don’t make nests like that.”

      Conor shrugs. He is very pale. He pushes apart the strands of weed and I see a pale, glistening oval, about the size of a fingernail.

      “That’s not a gull’s egg.”

      “Look at it, Saph.”

      I look at the egg. It is translucent green. Inside it there is a tiny creature, moving. A creature with fins and a tail. A fish. I shudder.

      “The nest was crammed with them,” says Conor.

      “But if they hatched, they wouldn’t be able to breathe in the air.”

      “I don’t know what they are,” says Conor. “Touch the shell, Saph.”

      I put out a finger reluctantly, and prod the egg. It is rubbery. There’s liquid inside in which the little fish can swim. I snatch my hand away. There is a ringing sound in my ears. My mouth turns dry.

      “Why have they put the eggs on our house?” I whisper to Conor.

      “They’re just trying to scare us.”

      “Do you think he’s behind it? Ervys?”

      “Probably.”

      “What are we going to do with this horrible egg СКАЧАТЬ