Gathering Storm Read online

  And she believed there was a good reason.

  *

  ‘The weather’s changing,’ said Nan. ‘I can smell it.’

  Dusk was falling and she was closing the sitting-room curtains before she and Tamzin settled down to a game of Scrabble.

  Tamzin looked up from arranging the board and letters. ‘It’s windy out,’ she said. ‘I got blown home from the beach earlier.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. It’s full moon, too, so there’ll be a very big tide.’ Nan gave the curtains a shake to straighten them and came to join Tamzin at the table. ‘Not the sort of night to be out in a boat! Never mind; we’re snug and safe. Now, whose turn is it to go first?’

  In bed that night Tamzin could hear the sea. The lion really was roaring; the tide must be enormous, she thought, and the gusting wind blowing from seaward would drive it even higher. As Nan had said, she was glad to be safe in the house, warm under her duvet. And the painting, now restored to its place on her bedroom wall, gave her extra comfort.

  By morning it was still windy and the weather forecast was predicting rain later. Tamzin went to the stables as usual, and she and Joel resigned themselves to the weekly task of cleaning all the metal parts of the horses’ tack – stirrup irons, bits and buckles. They talked as they worked, and Tamzin told Joel about Alec’s discovery of the stone fragments, and about the gap in the boulders covering the cave entrance. But she was reluctant to say anything about the compulsion that had almost made her go into the cave, or the voice and the vision that had made her stop. It would only start him worrying again, and she didn’t want to set off another argument. So she left that part of the story untold.

  It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that they finished their cleaning job and had the chance to go riding.

  ‘We’d better make it quick,’ Joel said as they emerged from the tack room. ‘Look at that sky.’

  Heavy cloud was gathering from the southwest, promising a downpour before very long. The weather forecast had been right.

  ‘How about the beach, then?’ Tamzin suggested. ‘The tide’s low enough for a canter, and we can get back faster than if we go on the cliffs.’

  ‘Good idea. We’ll take Sally-Ann and Mischa; they haven’t been out for a while.’

  They saddled up and trotted away along the valley path, Joel leading on the chestnut mare Mischa. Mischa was one of the biggest horses in the Richardses’ stable. She towered over bay Sally-Ann; really she was far too big for Joel, but she had such a gentle temperament that, as Mrs Richards said, you could put a six-year-old beginner on her back without worrying. Tamzin followed on Sally-Ann. She wished she could have ridden Moonlight, but reminded herself that she didn’t own him and couldn’t expect him always to be available. Sally-Ann was a lovely pony, and riding was riding, after all.

  There were a few cars in the car park, but most of the people on the beach were packing up and getting ready to leave before the rain arrived. A dog barked furiously at the two horses, and Sally-Ann shied, but Tamzin soon had her under control again and they headed for the firmer sand beyond the headland.

  ‘Let’s ride the whole beach, end to end, then back home,’ said Joel.

  ‘OK,’ said Tamzin. ‘But I’m not even going to try to race Mischa!’

  He laughed, turned Mischa to the right and they gave the horses their heads. Mischa took off at once, her big hooves leaving deep prints as she broke into a canter. Tamzin held back for a few moments, watching the mare admiringly and wishing that she could ride as well as Joel. Sally-Ann shook her head and pawed the sand impatiently, wanting to follow.

  ‘All right,’ Tamzin said to her. ‘Come on, then. But we won’t catch them!’

  She slackened her reins, and they were away.

  They cantered to the far end of the beach, then galloped back the whole length of it, right to left. It was an exhilarating ride, with the wind in their faces and the pounding of the horses’ hooves mingling with the pounding of the surf. Tamzin pretended that the beach was a great desert, and she was a tribal princess of ancient times, racing her pure-bred Arabian steed across the endless landscape. Or maybe she was an Ancient Briton, mounted on a wild pony that she had captured and tamed herself –

  ‘Whoa!’ She heard Joel’s shout, and snapped out of her fantasy in time to see that they were almost at the end of the beach. She dropped her hands, reining Sally-Ann in, and they came to a halt near a rock outcrop where the turning tide was just beginning to swirl.

  ‘Wow!’ Joel was grinning broadly. ‘That was great!’

  Tamzin nodded breathless agreement, grinning back. The horses were excited too, dancing and snorting as they splashed in the shallows at the sea’s edge.

  ‘Better not hang around,’ said Joel. ‘The sky’s starting to look really grim, and we don’t want to get soaked. Come on; if we start back now, we should beat the rain home.’

  They turned their horses and set off again, at a trot this time. Joel was ahead of Tamzin, but as they neared the headland he held Mischa back until she caught up, and said, ‘Did you know horses love swimming? In the summer, Mum and Dad and I sometimes take them in the sea. We wear swimming gear and ride bareback. It’s brilliant – you can come with us this year.’

  He expected Tamzin to answer, but she didn’t. She was staring towards the blocked cave, and she clearly had not heard a word he said.

  ‘Tam? Hey, Tam! I said –’

  Tamzin interrupted him. ‘Joel, look! The boulders have moved.’

  ‘Uh?’

  ‘At the cave mouth. Remember I told you about the gap I found? Well, it’s bigger now. Anyone could get through.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Joel saw it for himself. ‘I see what you mean.’

  ‘Nan said there was a really big tide last night,’ Tamzin went on. ‘It must have been powerful enough to shift that enormous rock. Alec’s wish has come true…’

  Joel looked at her sharply. ‘What wish?’

  Of course; she hadn’t told him that part of yesterday’s story. For a moment Tamzin hesitated, then suddenly she decided to be completely honest. Joel couldn’t argue with her now. Not after this.

  So, as they rode on, she told him the details she had left out earlier: the compulsion, the voice, the vision of the galloping horse that she was certain had been Moonlight. Then the meeting with Alec, the wish he had made, and the words that had come to her seemingly from nowhere. Wishes come true, sometimes.

  ‘It’s as if something told me what was going to happen,’ she said. ‘And now, today, the gap’s wide enough for Alec to get into the cave. The Blue Horse has done this, Joel; I’m sure of it! And it’s a sign that Alec can be trusted!’

  Joel didn’t reply at first. In another minute or so they would reach the valley path. They would have to ride in single file then, making talking difficult, and Tamzin seethed with impatience as she waited for him to speak. Then abruptly he halted Mischa and turned to look at Tamzin.

  ‘All right,’ he said decisively. ‘It sounds convincing; I can’t argue with that any more. And it might mean that the Blue Horse is getting stronger.’ He smiled. ‘Nothing quite like this has ever happened before, has it?’

  She smiled back. ‘No, it hasn’t!’

  ‘Mind you, if the Blue Horse is gaining strength, the Grey Horse isn’t going to like it one bit. It’ll fight back. It’ll try harder to hurt you. So I still think we’ve got to be careful and stay alert.’

  Tamzin saw the sense in that. The Grey Horse would fight. It would be angry. And that meant it was doubly dangerous.

  Overhead, the sky was the colour of slate now. The daylight looked old and grim, as if something invisible had cast a vast shadow over the whole world. Tamzin looked down at her hands, which were clenched and tense on Sally-Ann’s reins.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said soberly. ‘I’ll watch out. Every step of the way.’

  Joel left Tamzin at the gate of Chapel Cottage and took both the horses on alone to the stables. It was just as well he did, for
she hadn’t been in the house more than fifteen minutes before the rain started.

  ‘What a day!’ said Nan, peering through the kitchen window. ‘Typical springtime – though I must say we seem to be having much more than our fair share this year.’

  Tamzin joined her at the window, but water was streaming down the glass in rivers, blurring the view of the world outside. Even here on the ground floor the noise of rain hammering on the roof was like a drum roll.

  ‘I hope Joel got back before it started,’ said Tamzin.

  ‘Oh, he’ll be home and dry by now,’ Nan assured her. ‘But I’m afraid there probably won’t be any riding for you two tomorrow. The weather forecast says this is setting in for the night – everything’ll be knee-deep in mud by morning.’

  She was more right than she knew. The rain continued not only through that night but into the next day, and for two more days after that. Going to the stables was out of the question. The rain did slacken off to a drizzle now and then, but the breaks never lasted long enough for Tamzin to make her way up the valley without risking a complete soaking. Joel, phoning on his mobile, sounded increasingly gloomy. The horses were all restless and tetchy from lack of exercise, he said; at this rate the school holidays would be over before they had a chance to go riding again.

  Apart from a quick shopping trip to the village by car, Tamzin and Nan did not venture out. It wasn’t a lot of fun being stuck indoors. Nan needed to finish a commissioned painting, so Tamzin had to amuse herself for much of the time. Television was almost unwatchable because of interference caused by the weather, so instead she listened to the radio. There was a lot of weather talk on the local station. Apparently, the heavy rain was not widespread, but was concentrated just on this small area of Cornwall, while everywhere else remained relatively dry. Tamzin remembered Joel’s warning about the Grey Horse, and tried not to feel uneasy.

  Then, after three days and nights almost without a break, the fourth afternoon brought a real cloudburst. Nan was working in her studio, and Tamzin was getting tea ready when she heard an increasing noise, almost a roar, outside. Baggins sat up on his chair, ears flicking forward and eyes round and wide, and when Tamzin looked out of the window she saw that the outside world was blotted out by a solid grey wall of water.

  Nan came in a minute later.

  ‘Just look at it!’ she said in dismay. ‘We haven’t had a downpour like this in ages. My poor garden – all the spring flowers will be drowned!’

  ‘Will we get flooded, do you think?’ Tamzin asked worriedly.

  ‘No, we should be all right; we’re on a slope, so the surface water should run past us and into the bottom of the valley.’ Nan turned the hot tap on and started to wash her hands. ‘Mind you, some people probably will have problems. The land’s already saturated, you see. It can’t soak up any more, and all this new rain has to go somewhere. Let’s just hope it doesn’t last too long.’

  But it did. All that night the rain drummed on the roof of Chapel Cottage, so that Tamzin’s dreams were filled with the noise of it. She woke up several times, and lay listening to the falling water as it hissed on the ground and gurgled in the gutters and splashed on the overflowing water butt below her window. When dawn broke, though, the sounds began to ease off, and as full daylight came there was a sudden, extraordinary silence.

  Tamzin scrambled out of bed and went to her window. She couldn’t see anything, for the glass was misted over, so she opened the casement and looked out.

  The sky was still heavy with grey clouds, but the rain had stopped, and the whole world gleamed wetly. Water dripped everywhere; from the roof, the window sills and every plant in the garden, and the grass was silvery with millions of droplets. But the rain had actually stopped.

  There was a wonderful smell in the air; a kind of green scent, fresh and heady. Tamzin breathed it in deeply. She thought she could hear water running somewhere, but maybe it was just part of the general dripping sound. She didn’t feel like going back to bed now, so she got dressed and went downstairs. Nan came down soon afterwards, and they had breakfast with the back door standing wide open and the fresh outdoor smell filling the kitchen. Only Baggins was not happy. He did venture outside, but was back in again in moments, shaking his paws and complaining about the wet with a cross ‘Miaow!’

  ‘I hope the Richardses are all right,’ said Nan. ‘Their land’s in a bit of a hollow; with this much water around, they might have some problems. Maybe we’d better ring and find out.’

  Tamzin called Joel, and was relieved to hear his news.

  ‘We’re OK so far,’ he said. ‘But if we get much more rain, Dad reckons we could be in trouble. There’s quite a bit of flooding in the village already – two people have rung up to cancel rides because they can’t get out of their homes. Look,’ he added, ‘you’d better not come up to the stables today. It’s far too wet underfoot for riding, let alone walking, and we’ll be spending most of the day sweeping puddles out of the yard. I’ll call you later, OK?’

  ‘OK. But if you want any help –’

  ‘You’ll be the first person to know! See you.’

  Tamzin tried not to feel too disappointed as she pulled on her Wellingtons and went to help Nan in the garden. They were trying to straighten some of the rain-battered plants when they heard the sound of an engine, and a familiar car came bumping and rocking down the rough lane to the house.

  ‘It’s Alec,’ said Nan. ‘He’s in a hurry! Has something happened?’

  The car slithered to a stop and Alec jumped out. His eyes were alight and he seemed breathless. ‘Good morning!’ he greeted them. ‘Though I don’t somehow think “good” is the right word! There are floods in the village; did you know? And part of the main road to Truro’s under water; cars are having to go round the long way. But I’ve got some exciting news. I’ve just come from the beach – and I’ve been inside the cave!’

  ‘The boulders!’ Tamzin’s eyes lit up, too. ‘So the gap is big enough now!’

  ‘It certainly is. I couldn’t wait to come and tell you both. And I want to show you what I’ve found!’

  They all piled into Alec’s car and set off back to the beach. The tide was a long way out; it had turned, but Nan judged that they would have the best part of an hour to see Alec’s discovery.

  ‘I came at dawn, as soon as the rain stopped,’ Alec explained eagerly, as they hurried towards the headland. ‘I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw that it was possible to get into the cave!’ He grinned at Tamzin. ‘You were right, you know. Wishes do come true sometimes.’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Tamzin, but she did not say any more.

  The sea was very calm, the breakers flattened by the rain to small, murmuring wavelets. At the cave they all clambered carefully over the rocks to where the gap between the boulders showed dark and gaping.

  Alec produced a powerful flashlight and eased himself into the dark hole. ‘There’s a bit of a drop on the other side, so I’ll go through first and shine the torch for you.’

  There was water running out of the cave, Tamzin noticed; quite a stream, in fact, splashing over the rocks and across the sand towards the sea. Alec disappeared, then after a few seconds his voice came back, echoing hollowly. ‘All right, come on through. I’ll light the way.’

  With Nan right behind her and her heart thumping with excitement, Tamzin slipped through the gap. Her boots splashed in water, then Alec’s torch lit up the inside of the cave.

  ‘There you go,’ he said, grasping her hand to steady her as she jumped down on to wet sand. ‘Stay there and I’ll help your nan. All right, Isobel? Good! Right, all safe and sound.’

  Nan emerged and she and Tamzin gazed around. Tamzin’s first thought was that the cave looked very different from the last time she had seen it, before the rockfall. Memories of that night came back to her, and with a shudder she moved closer to Nan. She wondered suddenly if she should have come back here at all. But somehow, with Nan and Alec close by, she did not feel f
rightened, only curious.

  ‘This way.’ Alec pointed the flashlight towards the back of the cave. More images sprang into Tamzin’s mind: there had been a shallow pool there, with rocks behind it, and above the rocks was a long, narrow fissure.

  And wedged in the fissure, she had found the first piece of her blue glass talisman…

  The pool was there, and the rocks. Tamzin’s breath caught in her throat as she looked up, half expecting to see again the strange, pale glow that had led her to the talisman. But the fissure was gone. Instead, she found herself staring in amazement at the mouth of a wide tunnel.

  Alec heard her gasp, though he didn’t understand the reason for it.

  ‘I can’t be sure,’ he said, ‘but I think the earth tremor opened this tunnel up. Of course, I hadn’t been in here before, so –’

  Tamzin interrupted him. ‘It did,’ she said. ‘There was just a narrow slit in the rocks. I remember it.’ She felt Nan’s fingers close round hers and squeeze reassuringly. She squeezed back, grateful.

  ‘Have you been into the tunnel?’ Nan asked Alec.

  ‘Oh, yes. I went in about twenty metres before I came to tell you about it. And it isn’t a natural tunnel; at least, not all of it. It’s been cut out of the rock. I’d say that it was made many, many centuries ago.’ He shone the flashlight on the tunnel entrance, and added, ‘What really puzzles me, though, is why the tunnel was made.’

  ‘Perhaps it was an adit?’ Nan suggested. ‘You know; an air tunnel, joining up with one of the old mine shafts?’

  ‘That’s what I thought, at first. But who would dig an air tunnel that filled with water at every high tide? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘I see what you mean,’ said Nan. ‘And for the same reason, it can’t have been an entrance or exit way for miners.’

  ‘Yet someone obviously wanted to be able to get to the beach at particular times – and, I wouldn’t mind betting, for a particular purpose.’ Alec looked back at the gap through which they had come. ‘How long do you think we’ve got before we need to worry about the tide?’

  Nan checked her watch by the torchlight. ‘Half an hour,’ she said. ‘No more.’