pressure is released. I let my hands drop to my sides. The Sadie in my head vanishes. The real Sadie is watching me with scared, questioning eyes.
“I’ll take your Sadie with me now,” says Granny Carne. “Best I do that. As for your mother, you’ll find a way. A Call with as much power over the pair of you as that, it’ll make its own path through your lives. You and Conor have good brains between you. I won’t wait for that tea now, my girl, I’ll be on my way.”
“But, Granny Carne…” I can’t believe she’s just going to go like that. I’d expected her to stand in our way, as she did in the lane long ago when she stood between me and Ingo and wouldn’t let me go. But now she’s stepping aside.
Granny Carne has her hand on Sadie’s collar, steadying her. Objections whirl in my head. I’ve got to stop her going – why won’t Conor stop her?
“But what about Sadie’s food bowl – her food – and there’s her lead—”
“Sadie and I can manage. Say your goodbyes, Sapphire.”
I kneel down at Sadie’s side. There is a shaved place in her coat where the vet put in the stitches. The gash went deep. The vet said he’d never seen a wound from a gull as bad as that. There is still a faint smell of antiseptic. I don’t ever, ever want Sadie to be hurt like that again. What if the gulls had gone for her eyes?
“You’ll be safe with Granny Carne, won’t you?” I whisper. Sadie’s beautiful shining golden coat is a blur. I swallow. I don’t put my arms around her body in case I touch her wound. Instead I rub my face against her soft, cold nose. “Goodbye, Sadie darling,” I say, keeping my voice as steady as I can. “You’ll be fine. Granny Carne will look after you. Be good now.”
Sadie doesn’t make a sound. She pushes her nose into my cheek. She knows what’s happening. I feel terrible. It would be better if she protested.
“I love you, Sadie,” I whisper. “Don’t forget.”
I stand up again. I want Granny Carne to take Sadie away now, quickly, before I have time to think about it. Granny Carne seems to understand. She moves to the door and opens it. “There’s no gulls now,” she reassures Sadie. She bends down and slips her hand though Sadie’s collar reassuringly, then says over her shoulder to Conor, “Your mother has a second cousin somewhere upcountry, Plymouth way. Could be it’s time for you and Sapphire to pay a visit there, with your half term holiday coming. Anyone in the village who asks, that’s where I’ll tell them you are.”
One moment an old woman is looking at us over her shoulder, the next moment her outline blurs and trembles. I see a young, strong woman with ropes of gleaming earth-coloured hair. The outline shimmers and vanishes. I see an owl with fierce, unblinking eyes. Its wings are spread, ready to fly off into the dark. The owl fades. Only its eyes remain, deep in Granny Carne’s weather-beaten face.
The wind blows. The door bangs. Granny Carne is gone.
At first the day went on quite normally. We went up to Jack’s, and his mum made one of her classic dinners with roast beef, Yorkshire puddings and what she calls roast-pan gravy. Jack’s dad talked endlessly about whether he would get a government grant for re-laying a stretch of Cornish hedge. Jack kept trying to change the subject. He thinks his dad is extremely boring most of the time, but I didn’t mind. Hedging is as good to talk about as anything when there’s a storm raging in your mind.
We’re back at the cottage now, and it’s almost ten o’ clock, the time when Mum usually calls on a Sunday. But it’s not Sunday for her, it’s already Monday morning. While we are still enjoying the last hours of the weekend, Mum is in a world that’s going back to work.
Mum’s face comes on screen. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. She’s wearing a dark red T-shirt and she looks tanned and cheerful, but apprehensive too.
“I’ve got some news for you guys.” You guys. Mum sounds more like Roger each day. She pauses. We can see her taking a deep, steadying breath. “We’ve got the chance to take a big trip north, up the coast. It’s a mate of Roger’s who runs these trips into the bush. He’s offered us a freebie if we go as chief cook and bottle washer to the paying customers.”
“Bottle washer?” I ask.
“Doing all the stuff tourists don’t want to do for themselves,” says Mum succinctly. “It’s for two weeks, though, and we’ll be way out of contact. We won’t have access to a phone and anyway there’s no signal up there. How would you feel about not getting calls for a while? Listen, you can be straight with me about this, Sapphy. Nothing’s fixed yet. I won’t go if you’re not happy about it—”
“Of course you’ve got to go,” says Conor immediately. I know my brother well enough to be sure that he’s not even thinking about how brilliantly this all fits in with our plans. Mum and Roger not calling us for two whole weeks! Nothing could be more convenient. Conor goes on, “It’s the chance of a lifetime, Mum. A trip like that would cost a fortune if you had to pay for it. You have to go.”
“You’d love it out here, Conor. Next time you two are definitely coming with us.”
Next time? What is going on? Mum sounds so full of life, as if Australia has turned on a switch in her which has been off for years. Since Dad went, maybe. No, be honest, Sapphire. Mum wasn’t like this even when Dad was at home. She’s changed. She’s stronger, bolder, more alive somehow. I’m not sure that I want her to change too much more – I don’t want Mum to become someone I don’t even recognise…
I lean forward and open my mouth, but as I do Conor grabs hold of my wrist under the table, out of sight of the webcam. He squeezes tight, warningly. “Two weeks is nothing. We’ll be fine, won’t we, Saph?”
“Ye-yes.”
“Are you sure?” asks Mum eagerly. She really wants to make this trip, but she’s worried too. The deal was that she would see us and speak to us every day unless it was completely unavoidable. In a minute another switch will turn on inside Mum: the guilt switch.
A Call with as much power over the pair of you as that, it’ll make its own path through your lives.
It’s happening this minute through the Internet as Mum waits for our answer. The Call is making a path for us. Mum’s eyes search my face.
“Of course we’re sure,” says Conor. “Everything’s fine here. No problem.”
“Except that Conor needs to learn where the washing machine is,” I say. Mum’s face relaxes.
“As long as you’re both well and happy.”
“We had Rainbow and Patrick round last night,” says Conor with apparent casualness. Mum looks even happier. She likes Rainbow and Patrick more than any of our friends. She senses that Rainbow is like her, that’s what I think. Someone who will anchor us to Earth. And Patrick’s ambition to become a doctor is exactly the ambition Mum would love me to have. I’m sorry, Mum, but it’s never going to happen.
A big trip north, into the bush… Poisonous spiders, king cobras, crocodiles… “Be careful up there, Mum. Crocodiles are really cunning. They use their tails as levers to spring out of the water and get you. If a croc chases you, you have to run in zigzags because that confuses them. And there’s loads of snakes in the bush too. You can’t walk around in flip-flops.”
Mum is laughing. “Is this my daughter talking, or is it my mum?”
“I’m serious, Mum.”
“I’m sorry, Sapphy, I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”
Mum seems so real that I feel I could put my hand through the screen and touch her face. But I can’t, and in a minute her screen image will disappear. People get lost in the bush. They die because there’s no water. I take a deep breath. Mum will be with Roger, who probably knows how to dig a bore hole if need be, and kill a fighting cobra with one karate