The Islands by Ian Saunders

Author:Ian Saunders [Saunders, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

25.

If nothing else, the lean-to offered shade so, after climbing back down the ladder from the ruins of the Japanese house, rather than walk back along the shore they stayed inside its shelter, Seb examining the line of crushed shell and other debris washed up over the years that lay against the rockface, Brie sitting on the sand, just inside the shed’s shadow, looking out to sea.

Waiting for a boat, she thought. I am waiting for a boat. That is the only reason people look out to sea, and I am no different from any one of them. She imagined one in the distance, a speck upon the water, gradually approaching the beach where she stood. Or perhaps it would be tracking the coast and would sail into view as it rounded the north point. For some reason it was always a sailing boat, canvas unfurled in the breeze, pennants fluttering on the stay that ran from its bow to the tip of its mast. It could not be the White Jade, she knew that – it had been cut in two and sunk in the black foam of the night – but perhaps it was a fishing boat, carried on the waves and the wind. Painted powder blue, like the monastery looking down from the hills of Lantau to the little island of Peng Chau and its Tin Hau temple: Tin Hau, protectress of fishermen. A fishing boat full of good cheer. That’s the phrase, she thought, the one they always use about sailing boats, good cheer. Joyful in the wind. She smiled briefly, then looked around, seeking out Seb.

He was nowhere to be seen.

‘Seb,’ she called, ‘Seb, where are you?’

No answer. She jumped to her feet and looked about. There was nowhere he could have gone. A single glance in each direction was enough to confirm the beach was empty. Back up the ladder, she thought. He must be.

She walked over to where its pegs had been carved into the rock and looked up, past the sheet metal roof to the bright patch of blue sky between it and the top of the rockface. No sign of her brother. She called to him again, curious, a little annoyed; and then started to climb back up to the ruined gun-post.

‘I’m here,’ he called, just below her, a few yards to her left. His head poked out from the shadow at the end of the discarded metal sheet that was propped against the rock, almost comical. She laughed despite herself. There was something impish about him at times, black hair sticking up in every which way, eyes wide with discovery.

‘It’s a cave. Come and look.’

What had looked like a shadow was in fact a narrow fissure in the rock: as he had said, the beginning of a cave. It was easy to miss, and for the most part covered by the piece of rusted cladding. Seb reached out to her, and pulled her in. The fissure was a little off a right-angle to the face, so that the light from the improvised door fell only a few yards inside.

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