isn’t well. I’m going for someone. You stay here – right here.’ I pointed to a position at the bottom of the step. ‘You stand guard and don’t move – you don’t let anyone in there until I come back and you don’t go in there yourself. Do you hear?’
He took up the position like a sentry, without speaking.
‘Don’t you move.’
I plunged into the shroud of mist, in a panic now, to get someone, anyone, to come and take the whole of the burden off me. As I reached the first van, I began to scream.
The sun came out not long after that and the mist rolled back across the flat sea to the horizon. I couldn’t escape until late in the afternoon. I had to talk to half the world, but in the end, when it had all stopped, I did go out.
The site had the smell of everybody’s tea frying and the kids were sitting in the mud and sun.
The beach was empty, except for some boys a long way off playing cricket, tiny figures on the flat sand. The sea was very quiet, shifting about gently inside itself and creaming at the edge.
I walked and walked and then sat down on some rocks. The seaweed was as green as emeralds, and smelled of fish.
I didn’t think about Rosa. I didn’t need to. She was there. If I had reached out I could have touched her.
There was one thing I felt bad about. One thing I should have done and that was to have put her wig on for her. People should not have seen her bald like that. I felt I had let her down. Rosa had always had a dignity about her.
I looked along the pale sand. The cricketing boys had gone. This was my place, the only one I had now, and when we moved on, I would not have this calm, secret beach either, until we came back next year.
There was a rock pool behind my foot with a tiny crab sitting in the sand at the bottom. I could see every mark on it through the clear water. I bent down and touched it with my finger and it shrugged itself back at once under the sand and went still.
The sea made its soft sound, turning over and over.
‘Hoooo-ee-oo.’
I knew he had stayed guard at the bottom of Rosa’s van steps. Johnny Mahoney had told me so. He had done as I had told him, though I could scarcely believe I had ordered him in such a way, but after that I didn’t know where he had gone.
‘Hoooo-eee-oo.’
The sun had gone off the beach now. I couldn’t tell whether he was on the cliff paths above, or behind some of the rocks, he was so clever with his voice.
‘Hooo-eee-ooo.’
I began to walk back quickly, though whether I was walking away from Little Midge or towards him I had no way of telling. I thought of what Johnny Mahoney had said. ‘Just ask the Boss.’
The cliff path was a long way off. I had walked further than I realised along the beach, further than I had ever gone before.
‘Hooo-eee-ooo.’
‘Rosa,’ I said out loud.
I remembered what they always said in the stories about the old days and the big cats.
‘Never turn your back,’ was the rule, ‘and never run.’
So I didn’t run, only walked fast.
‘Rosa.’
When I saw the perimeter fence at the edge of the site I started sobbing. My side stabbed where I had pulled a muscle climbing in such a panic up the cliff path. The horses and ponies were whinnying and the dogs were barking. I heard a couple of drum rolls. All the usual racket. I had never been glad of it before.
I didn’t want to go past Rosa’s van but to avoid it I would have to walk halfway round the site and all the energy and strength had gone out of me like sand out of a timer. Besides, I had to face it so it might as well be now.
And then I saw Little Midge. He was sitting, hunched up on the bottom step of Rosa’s van, his big head bent forward into his chest. I stopped dead. He looked as if he had been there for hours. Perhaps all day. Perhaps ever since I had ordered him to stay and not move, in the sea mist of that early morning.
I went nearer, and he heard or sensed me, and looked. I didn’t say anything and nor did
He took up the position like a sentry, without speaking.
‘Don’t you move.’
I plunged into the shroud of mist, in a panic now, to get someone, anyone, to come and take the whole of the burden off me. As I reached the first van, I began to scream.
The sun came out not long after that and the mist rolled back across the flat sea to the horizon. I couldn’t escape until late in the afternoon. I had to talk to half the world, but in the end, when it had all stopped, I did go out.
The site had the smell of everybody’s tea frying and the kids were sitting in the mud and sun.
The beach was empty, except for some boys a long way off playing cricket, tiny figures on the flat sand. The sea was very quiet, shifting about gently inside itself and creaming at the edge.
I walked and walked and then sat down on some rocks. The seaweed was as green as emeralds, and smelled of fish.
I didn’t think about Rosa. I didn’t need to. She was there. If I had reached out I could have touched her.
There was one thing I felt bad about. One thing I should have done and that was to have put her wig on for her. People should not have seen her bald like that. I felt I had let her down. Rosa had always had a dignity about her.
I looked along the pale sand. The cricketing boys had gone. This was my place, the only one I had now, and when we moved on, I would not have this calm, secret beach either, until we came back next year.
There was a rock pool behind my foot with a tiny crab sitting in the sand at the bottom. I could see every mark on it through the clear water. I bent down and touched it with my finger and it shrugged itself back at once under the sand and went still.
The sea made its soft sound, turning over and over.
‘Hoooo-ee-oo.’
I knew he had stayed guard at the bottom of Rosa’s van steps. Johnny Mahoney had told me so. He had done as I had told him, though I could scarcely believe I had ordered him in such a way, but after that I didn’t know where he had gone.
‘Hoooo-eee-oo.’
The sun had gone off the beach now. I couldn’t tell whether he was on the cliff paths above, or behind some of the rocks, he was so clever with his voice.
‘Hooo-eee-ooo.’
I began to walk back quickly, though whether I was walking away from Little Midge or towards him I had no way of telling. I thought of what Johnny Mahoney had said. ‘Just ask the Boss.’
The cliff path was a long way off. I had walked further than I realised along the beach, further than I had ever gone before.
‘Hooo-eee-ooo.’
‘Rosa,’ I said out loud.
I remembered what they always said in the stories about the old days and the big cats.
‘Never turn your back,’ was the rule, ‘and never run.’
So I didn’t run, only walked fast.
‘Rosa.’
When I saw the perimeter fence at the edge of the site I started sobbing. My side stabbed where I had pulled a muscle climbing in such a panic up the cliff path. The horses and ponies were whinnying and the dogs were barking. I heard a couple of drum rolls. All the usual racket. I had never been glad of it before.
I didn’t want to go past Rosa’s van but to avoid it I would have to walk halfway round the site and all the energy and strength had gone out of me like sand out of a timer. Besides, I had to face it so it might as well be now.
And then I saw Little Midge. He was sitting, hunched up on the bottom step of Rosa’s van, his big head bent forward into his chest. I stopped dead. He looked as if he had been there for hours. Perhaps all day. Perhaps ever since I had ordered him to stay and not move, in the sea mist of that early morning.
I went nearer, and he heard or sensed me, and looked. I didn’t say anything and nor did
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