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Authors: Laura Lockington
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made that often) I felt a ridiculous glow of pride. I was much taller that my mother, but had the same colour hair. If I’d had half her grace or charm I would be happy.
The mouth-watering smell of cooking was in the air, I passed the barbeque on my way to Sam for a glass of beer. The boys were doing the manly thing of prodding the cooking food with long forks whilst swigging booze. I breezily passed them, avoiding Jace’s eye.
“I’ll do the prawns,” I called out to them.
Nancy volunteered to go and give Mrs Trevellyon her drink, and Sam winked heavily at her as she went, following her progress in the heavy sand with a wistful eye.
Was all of Port Charles on the pull?
I decided to have a walk along the water’s edge, I slipped my shoes off so that the cold wet sand pulled at the soles of my feet. I walked briskly along the bay. Baxter trotted after me, nosing the drifts of seaweed that had piled up along the beach, and stopping every now and then to gaze out to sea with his ears pricked, looking like a rear admiral reviewing his fleet.
I walked fast and covered enough distance that soon the sound of revelry was fading, and I could hear the relentless pounding of the sea and the birds more clearly than the happy sounds of the picnickers.
I stopped and looked backwards. If I craned my head I could just see the top chimney and slate roof of Penmorah. I felt lonely, which was absurd, but then I reminded myself that the beach often had this effect on me. The waves always seemed to make me restless. I felt like crying out to the sea, just stop for a moment, stop this relentless movement and pounding onto the beleaguered land. I slowed my pace down and tried to shake off this slight feeling of melancholy I had. There was a great picnic going on, and, well, and I was part of it, damn it.
There was a sudden sharp, loud cry from the beach, and then it seemed the whole population of Port Charles was jumping around and shouting. I started to run towards them, trying to understand what it was they were shouting about. I saw them pointing out to sea, and waving, some were even hugging each other, and I wondered what the hell it was that had got them so excited.
Then I saw them. They made me catch my breath with delight.
The dolphins were back.
A whole school of those joyous creatures were back in the bay. They were leaping high from the glassy green sea, sparkling in the sun. Weaving and diving in and out of the tumultuous ocean they crashed back into the water, creating white plumes of spray behind them. Those elegant, intelligent creatures of the deep had played such a part in mans history from the ancient Cretans to the Cornish were back where they belonged. It was impossible to watch these creatures at play without a lift of the heart.
I could hear whoops of delight from the beach as I hurried to join them, suddenly feeling very much part of Port Charles again. I ran as fast as I could, with my heart racing inside my chest, my legs aching and my feet splashing the unfurling waves on the cold sand. My hair blew across my face and I couldn’t resist holding my arms wide open, as if to embrace the whole of Port Charles.
“They’re back, they’re back,” I called happily to Baxter who was running, barking at my side.
I threw my head back and shouted up to Penmorah, “We’ll all be fine now, you’ll see, they’re back!”
Penmorah waved to me it seemed in my happiness, delighted that its namesake was back for us all.
In Cornish, you see, Penmorah means House of the Dolphins.
Chapter Six
I don’t know if it was the dolphins, or a visitation from the gods of misrule, maybe Bacchus or Jack in the Green, but the picnic exploded with energy after that.
It was as if we were all touched with a hint of mischief and magic.
The afternoon flew by in a positive orgy of drink and food. Sam had to make another run to The Ram for more supplies of beer and wine, Pritti and Nancy caused a near riot with an
The mouth-watering smell of cooking was in the air, I passed the barbeque on my way to Sam for a glass of beer. The boys were doing the manly thing of prodding the cooking food with long forks whilst swigging booze. I breezily passed them, avoiding Jace’s eye.
“I’ll do the prawns,” I called out to them.
Nancy volunteered to go and give Mrs Trevellyon her drink, and Sam winked heavily at her as she went, following her progress in the heavy sand with a wistful eye.
Was all of Port Charles on the pull?
I decided to have a walk along the water’s edge, I slipped my shoes off so that the cold wet sand pulled at the soles of my feet. I walked briskly along the bay. Baxter trotted after me, nosing the drifts of seaweed that had piled up along the beach, and stopping every now and then to gaze out to sea with his ears pricked, looking like a rear admiral reviewing his fleet.
I walked fast and covered enough distance that soon the sound of revelry was fading, and I could hear the relentless pounding of the sea and the birds more clearly than the happy sounds of the picnickers.
I stopped and looked backwards. If I craned my head I could just see the top chimney and slate roof of Penmorah. I felt lonely, which was absurd, but then I reminded myself that the beach often had this effect on me. The waves always seemed to make me restless. I felt like crying out to the sea, just stop for a moment, stop this relentless movement and pounding onto the beleaguered land. I slowed my pace down and tried to shake off this slight feeling of melancholy I had. There was a great picnic going on, and, well, and I was part of it, damn it.
There was a sudden sharp, loud cry from the beach, and then it seemed the whole population of Port Charles was jumping around and shouting. I started to run towards them, trying to understand what it was they were shouting about. I saw them pointing out to sea, and waving, some were even hugging each other, and I wondered what the hell it was that had got them so excited.
Then I saw them. They made me catch my breath with delight.
The dolphins were back.
A whole school of those joyous creatures were back in the bay. They were leaping high from the glassy green sea, sparkling in the sun. Weaving and diving in and out of the tumultuous ocean they crashed back into the water, creating white plumes of spray behind them. Those elegant, intelligent creatures of the deep had played such a part in mans history from the ancient Cretans to the Cornish were back where they belonged. It was impossible to watch these creatures at play without a lift of the heart.
I could hear whoops of delight from the beach as I hurried to join them, suddenly feeling very much part of Port Charles again. I ran as fast as I could, with my heart racing inside my chest, my legs aching and my feet splashing the unfurling waves on the cold sand. My hair blew across my face and I couldn’t resist holding my arms wide open, as if to embrace the whole of Port Charles.
“They’re back, they’re back,” I called happily to Baxter who was running, barking at my side.
I threw my head back and shouted up to Penmorah, “We’ll all be fine now, you’ll see, they’re back!”
Penmorah waved to me it seemed in my happiness, delighted that its namesake was back for us all.
In Cornish, you see, Penmorah means House of the Dolphins.
Chapter Six
I don’t know if it was the dolphins, or a visitation from the gods of misrule, maybe Bacchus or Jack in the Green, but the picnic exploded with energy after that.
It was as if we were all touched with a hint of mischief and magic.
The afternoon flew by in a positive orgy of drink and food. Sam had to make another run to The Ram for more supplies of beer and wine, Pritti and Nancy caused a near riot with an
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