Helen Dunmore - The Complete Ingo Chronicles - Ingo, The Tide Knot, The Deep, The Crossing of Ingo, Stormswept

“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 you don’t know what he’s like. You don’t even want to find out. He’s a good man. He cares about both of you. He even—”

“Even what?”

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Mum! What shouldn’t you have said anything about?”

Mum glances at Conor for help, but Conor’s not saying anything.

“All right, then. Roger thinks – for some unknown reason – that I’m not being fair to you about the dog business. He reckons you’re old enough and responsible enough to have a dog. But if he’d seen today’s carry-on, he might change his mind.”

“ Mum !” My thoughts are not just whizzing around now, they are performing loops and swoops and dives and turning back on themselves. Roger – Roger – thinks Mum’s not being fair about Sadie. And he’s trying to get her to change her mind. Trying to persuade her that we can have a dog…

Pictures crowd into my head. Sadie, in our house, in her own basket. Sadie, padding upstairs to my room to wake me in the mornings – or maybe even sleeping in my room. Me taking Sadie for long walks whenever I want. Taking Sadie on the coast path, up on the Downs, checking her paws for thorns, brushing her coat, giving her a bath outside, taking her to the vet, whistling for her when she’s roaming around outside…

Come on in, Sadie girl, Conor’s gone up to Jack’s so it’s just you and me this evening, but we don’t mind, do we? We’ve got each other .

“Don’t look at me like that, Sapphy. It’s not decided yet.”

“Oh, Mum.”

“I’m still thinking about it. Mary Thomas says she’d keep an eye on the dog during the day, when you were back at school.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Take it easy, Saph,” says Conor.

“We won’t say any more about it now,” says Mum. “I must get on with this picnic. They’ll be here soon.”

“You’re really going down there, then, Mum?” Conor asks. He sounds like an adult, not a boy. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“Maybe she’ll take up diving,” I say, before I can stop myself. Mum shudders.

“One day at a time,” she says. She lets go of me, and I step back.

“ One day at a time, sweet Jesus ,” I sing, then I continue, because Dad always did, “ One drink at a time, sweet Jesus .”

“I’d be angry if I thought you knew what you were singing, Sapphire,” says Mum severely. “Making mock like that.”

“She’s only singing what Dad used to sing,” says Conor. Dad’s name falls awkwardly, and conversation stops. Mum looks from one of us to the other.

“I’d better get on,” she says at last. “Roger and Gray are bringing the boat around,” and she begins to butter more bread.

Conor and I look at each other. For the first time, what’s about to happen seems real. I’d rather keep on thinking about Sadie, but I can’t. Roger and Gray are coming here. They’re going to dive. An exploratory dive by the Bawns , Mum said.

Roger thinks it’s an ordinary dive, like he’s done a hundred times before. Him and his dive buddy and his powerful boat and all his wonderful equipment. Roger, Mr Experienced Diver.

But Faro’s there. The Mer. All of it. The tiny bit of Ingo that I’ve seen, and everything else that lies hidden. It’s hidden because it wants to be hidden. The Mer don’t want Air People there. The Bawns mean something that I don’t understand. Faro said so. It was when we were talking about the Bawns that he got so angry. Faro said that Roger would never go there. All of Ingo will prevent it – was that what he said? Or was it something about protecting the Bawns? All of Ingo will protect them . Whatever his exact words were, Faro meant every one of them. His face was like the sea when a storm’s whipping up on it.

“Me and Saph’ll go on down to the cove then, Mum, unless you need us here,” says Conor. “Sure you’ll be all right climbing down?”

“I can manage,” says Mum. “It’s not the climb down that worries me.” She makes herself smile and I know how afraid of the sea she still is. How hard she’s trying, because of Roger. “I’ve got to do it on my own.”

“Be careful. The rocks are slippery,” warns Conor. “Let me help you, Mum.”

“Do you think I don’t know by now what the sea can do?” asks Mum quietly. “You two go off now, and let me finish this in peace. I’ll see you down there later. Roger’ll be glad to show you the diving equipment, Con. He says there’s a starter diving course you can take, at the dive school in St Pirans. It’s just a week, to give you a taste of what diving’s like. He’s going to fix it up with that friend he told you about.”

As soon as we are out of the cottage, we start to run.

“Conor, they hate divers. Faro told me—”

“I know. Air People with air on their backs—”

“Taking Air into Ingo. Did Elvira tell you that as well?”

“Yeah.”

“And he’s going to the Bawns. He doesn’t know—”

“What about the Bawns? What doesn’t Roger know?”

“I’m not sure. But it’s something serious. Faro said there was something out at the Bawns so important that the whole of Ingo would defend it. He wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“And Roger’s going to dive there. That’s all we need.”

Down the track, down the path, over the lip of the cliff, and down, down, hearts pounding, hands slippery with sweat, stumbling on loose stones and catching hold of the rock. Down and down, sliding on seaweed, jumping from rock to rock, past limpets and mussels and dead dogfish and dark damp crevices where the sun never goes and there are piles of driftwood and bleached rope and plastic net buoys.

And down on to the firm white sand. Everything is calm and sunny and beautiful. The sea is like a piece of wrinkled silk. The beach is empty. Little waves curl and flop on to the shore. We shield our eyes from the light and squint towards the rocks at the entrance of the cove. Nothing. No sign of a boat.