Sea Change by Francis Rowan

having
misunderstood, and tried to change the subject.
    "When you said
your dad's out at sea," he said, "is he in the navy? Or working on
the rigs? My cousin Jeff's dad—"
    "No, he's not,"
Simon said, in a flat voice that didn't sound like him at all.
"He's just out there. He was a fisherman, Dad. Boat went over four
years back. Him and two others. Lifeboat went out but the weather
was terrible, time they reached the boat there was nothing but sea
and an empty boat, upside down."
    "Oh Simon, Sal,
I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said..."
    "All right. You
weren't to know. Anyway, you want to see Hob's Hole, let's get on
with it before the rain comes in." Simon began climbing up over the
boulders and into the cave. John looked across at Sal, but again
she was just standing staring out at the sea and the gathering
clouds. John cursed himself for having spoken at all, cursed
himself for destroying the mood, and followed Simon into the mouth
of the cave. It was smaller than John had expected, and very dark
inside. The air smelt of cold and damp.
    "Hard without a
torch," Simon said. "Never thought to bring one along. Like I say,
we're not supposed to go in. Come on though, I'll show you. Stick
by me. Once you get in we'll wait a moment, your eyes'll get used
to the dark, there should be enough light coming in, just about.
There’s floor to the cave for about nine or ten steps, then the
Hole itself, at the back of the cave. You don’t want to fall into
that. The Hole doesn’t go right to the back, there’s a ledge round
it, you can actually walk all the way round. If you’re careful,
like.”
    They ducked and
clambered into the cave. John lifted a hand above his head,
trailing the cold rock, not wanting to embarrass himself even more
by cracking his skull open. But a pace or two into the cave and
there was nothing above his fingers, and he straightened up. Simon
put his hand on John's arm.
    "Wait
here."
    John felt Sal
squeeze through behind him. They stood in silence for a moment.
Somewhere in the darkness of the cave John could hear a slow drip,
drip, drip, and right at the limit of hearing he thought that he
could hear a distant roaring. It must be the sea, he thought, the
sound coming into the cave from somewhere deep below, salt water
surging under the earth. Gradually his eyes adjusted, and he could
see more of the cave. It wasn't very deep, it just arched above his
head and then a couple of metres further forward sloped down
again.
    At the far side
was an inky blackness, that seemed to move in the half-light,
contracting like the pupil of an eye. Simon held his arm and they
shuffled across the floor of the cave. They stopped a couple of
steps away from the edge of the hole. The excitement of the
adventure had worn off by now, and the cold of the rock reminded
John of the chill in the old man's voice. He had intended to drop a
stone down into the hole, listening to it bounce and clatter off
the walls, but then he thought of Lord of the Rings and he thought
of waking things that should be left asleep, and he did not stoop
to pick up a stone. Stupid, he thought to himself. Stupid. But
still he did not pick up a stone.
    "Imagine
bringing your kid in here," Simon said, "thinking that there's
something living down there, bottom of the hole, having to walk
round there, holding your kiddie, trying not to fall in, and asking
for the Hob to save the child's life. Imagine that." He held up his
mobile, pressed a key, and the cold white light of its screen light
shone out over the back of the cave.
    John looked at
the narrow strip of rock that ran between the back of the hole and
the wall of the cave. It did not look broad enough to walk along in
safety. He tried to imagine setting foot on the thin, crumbling
line of rock, and then taking a step, and another step, the walls
lit by the flickering flames of a candle, the hole dark and
dropping down beyond sight, with something at the bottom, something
that could cure but that at the same