The Monster of Shiversands Cove (2 page)

All of a sudden, a huge jet of water, like a giant fountain, shot right up in the air.

I leaned forward and clutched the edge of the porthole. Now
that
was interesting. I knew what it was straight away: a waterspout. And where there was a waterspout that size, there was a
whale.
There had to be. I stared hard. Brilliant! A whale, right out there, behind the island.

Now, I am the number-one fan of whales, because whales are extremely interesting creatures. Not even fish, for a start, even though they swim in the sea. No, whales are mammals, long-living mammals. Some whales, especially the ones that swim about in the Arctic Ocean, can live to over one hundred and fifty years old. And whales are musical mammals, too. They like inventing tunes. Whales swim about, singing their tunes and when they get bored with singing one tune, which whales do in the end, they just invent a new one.

Then, there are the waterspouts. All whales make waterspouts. A whale shoots water out of a blowhole, sometimes even two, on the top of its head, and that helps it breathe in the water.

Dolphins and porpoises do waterspouts, too. But that waterspout was much too big to be a dolphin or porpoise. It was a whale. It had to be. And a whale expert could tell what sort of whale that was, just from the shape of the waterspout, but I couldn't. I had no idea what sort of whale it was.

All the same, the whale was a good start to the day. Then the day got better because Dad and Magnus woke up and, once Magnus had his
water wings on, we all ran down the garden and across the beach, and swam before breakfast.

We splashed about and chucked a beach ball around. Then, I did a bit of snorkelling around the rocks at the side while Dad helped Magnus with his swimming strokes.

After that, Dad cooked a big breakfast: piles of pancakes and toast and bacon. We ate outside, at a table on the patio, with the cove glinting and sparkling in front of us.

Then, we made a find: a shed full of interesting stuff at the bottom of the garden. There was a big folded bit of fishing net, the strong kind that fishing boats drag behind them, and there were coils of rope and tins with weird names on them like ‘Bloodworms', which Dad said were fishing bait. There were also some old magazines and old flowerpots, beach balls, a Frisbee and a cricket set.

I was starting to feel that maybe this holiday wasn't doomed, that maybe it would be good, when we heard the sound of a car coming down the lane. A car loaded up with holiday stuff, and heading straight for the pale blue cottage.

The car stopped and the doors opened. A mum got out, and a dad. And . . .

Oh no.

A girl. She was Magnus-sized, and was wearing a sticky-out princess dress, a tiara, and small stout shoes. She came thudding straight out of the car and down to the beach, bellowing, ‘Princess Splishy-Splashy! Where are you? It's me, Claudia. I'm back!'

She stood there bellowing for at least two minutes, and for someone so short, she had a very big bellow. Then, she folded her arms, turned, spotted me and Magnus in our garden, and came stomping over, frowning.

‘Have
you
seen Princess Splishy-Splashy?' she said.

* * *

Princess Splishy-Splashy turned out to be a mermaid.

Yes, a
mermaid
. A mermaid the bellower, Claudia, said she met last year. Because last year, Claudia stayed in our cottage and every day, so Claudia said, Princess Splishy-Splashy sat on the rocks out on the island, singing and combing her long golden hair. Sometimes she would even dive into the water and swim about with Claudia.

‘I was expecting her to be there now,' Claudia said. ‘I had plans for us.' Then her eyebrows
knotted together. ‘Hm. I wonder where she's gone?'

I gaped at her. What a strange child. Why invent a mermaid and then pretend she had gone missing? I had three imaginary friends when I was a little kid, all goblins. But I
never
pretended my goblins went missing. I pretended they had chicken pox. I pretended they spat out their greens and hated brushing their teeth. But I
never
pretended my goblins went missing. What was the point?

Magnus did
not
seem to find Claudia strange, not at all. He stared at her, thrilled and she stared at him.

‘You,' Claudia said, ‘are being my holiday friend.' Then, she grabbed Magnus by the hand and dragged him off, while Dad got busy chatting to Claudia's mum and dad, making himself some grown-ups friends for the holiday.

Which was why it was only me who saw it.

It was a glimpse: just a quick glimpse, out of the corner of my eye. A glimpse of something leaping out of the water, just behind the island. Something huge and greeny-grey, twirling around so fast it was a blur. Then, it dived and was gone.

 

Chapter Three

Fairies and Monsters

I spent a
lot
of that day digging, and digging is something I usually enjoy. But not today, because today digging reminded me of Rory and of all the digging we did, every holiday the past four years.

We had big digging plans for this year. We both drew designs for our digging: nine of them between us.

Then Rory's mum and dad cancelled the holiday.

I was digging one of our designs now, our castle design. But digging a castle alone was not half as much fun as digging a castle with Rory.

Still, I dug on. Digging – and watching out for the whale. I was hoping I'd see it again, leaping out of the water, and get a clearer look at it. I
didn't, though. So I dug on, trying and trying not to think how much better it would be if Rory were here, digging too.

Trying and failing, feeling glummer and glummer by the minute. But the glummer I got, the harder I dug. So, in the end, the castle was done. Finished.

It was a work of genius, utter genius. It stretched out across the beach, with lots of turrets and battlements, and even a small cobbled courtyard and a traitors' gate.

I stood back, admiring it. I was planning to take a picture of it and send it to Rory. Then, I heard a bellow from the far end of the beach. The bellow of a four-year-old fairy hunter: Claudia.

‘There's one,' Claudia bellowed.

I turned.

Claudia was pointing one small fat finger straight past me and behind her. Magnus started shrieking. ‘A fairy!' he shrieked, clasping his hands. ‘A fairy!'

I gaped, as the two of them started thudding across the sand, eyes shining, cheeks pink, both huffing, both puffing, both holding out fishing nets. Closer and closer and closer they came thudding.

‘Watch out!' I yelled.

 

 

Too late.

They thudded straight through my castle. They destroyed the whole thing.

I yelled at them. I yelled at them for quite a long time.

They stood there, eyes popping as they listened to me yelling. When I stopped, Magnus clutched my arm, eyes shining. ‘But Stan,' he said, ‘we couldn't help it. We saw a fairy!' Then he clasped his hands together. ‘And now, I will
keep
my magic eyes! I will see fairies forever!'

Enough.
Enough
! I looked down at the shattered remains of my brilliant castle and kicked my foot, fed up and furious.

‘There is NO SUCH THING as magic eyes . . . or fairies,' I yelled, right in Magnus's face. ‘But there IS such a thing as stupid little four-year-olds who should LOOK where they ARE GOING!'

Claudia stepped in front of me and glared up at me. She wagged her finger. ‘You should
not
shout at little children,' she said, hands on hips.

Then, she grabbed Magnus by the arm. ‘Come on, Magnus,' she said, ‘we are going
to tame
that fairy. We'll have a tea party for it.'

She turned, stuck her nose in the air and glared at me again. ‘And
you
are not invited,' she said, as she dragged Magnus off.

* * *

That night, Magnus was sitting up in bed, staring at his fairy-spotting guide. One small finger slowly moving across the page, his mouth making word shapes.

Magnus can't actually read. Not properly, not yet but, then, he doesn't need to. He knows his fairy-spotting guide off by heart. Mum or Dad read it to him most nights.

He snapped the book shut when he saw me and beamed.

‘Stan,' he said. ‘Isn't this a lovely holiday? When I was with Claudia today, we
did
find a fairy! We did! At last!'

Now, Magnus propped himself up on his pillow, beaming even more. ‘We are calling our fairy Harry,' he said. ‘And Claudia says that two lovely little children like us will definitely be able to tame Harry.'

I got into bed, hoping Magnus would shut up soon.

He didn't.

‘Claudia says that when we tame Harry, we can
share
Harry,' he said. ‘And Harry can sleep one night at her holiday home, then one night here.'

I felt my teeth beginning to grind but Magnus hadn't finished.

‘And we can do a drawing of Harry,' he said. ‘Because, Stan, we can't take a picture of Harry. Fairies get very upset if little children take pictures of them. Fairies don't like it. Fairies get scared when the light flashes in their faces. Fairy Fenella says.'

I felt my teeth grind more but Magnus
still
hadn't finished.

‘And when we do the drawing we are going to send it to Fairy Fenella and get a Fairy Fenella badge,' he said proudly. ‘Because, Stan, Fairy Fenella gives lovely badges to children who send her things. Claudia already has a bronze Fairy Fenella badge for making a tiny handbag out of felt and glue, for a fairy. So this time, Claudia might get a
silver
Fairy Fenella badge. And if this is a magic hotspot – because Fairy Fenella says there
are
magic hotspots, Stan, special places where magic is extra strong – we might find more fairies. Or even some little elves . . .'

Now, this was the point where I snapped. I could
not
help it. Magnus was going on and on and
on
. And there I was, stuck listening with no Rory and no friends my own age. Just two weeks of listening to Magnus.
And
Claudia.

‘If this
is
a magic hotspot,' I snapped, ‘there won't just be fairies or mermaids or elves, there'll be a monsters too.'

I know. I
know
. It was mean but I just could
not
help it.

Magnus looked at me and tittered. ‘Stan, you're being a silly again,' he said, wagging his finger. ‘There are
no
monsters. Monsters lived in the olden days. They're all gone now. Fairy Fenella said.'

‘Fairy Fenella is
lying
,' I said. ‘She doesn't want to scare you. There are monsters, loads of them. Human monsters, like Medusa.'

‘Medusa?' said Magnus, eyes popping.

‘A lady monster who is
so terrifyingly ugly
that little kids turn to stone
forever
when they see her,' I said. ‘And then there are trolls. Trolls used to just live in Norway, but not any more. Now lots of trolls have moved here and trolls stuff little kids inside giant pitta breads and eat them with herrings and salad
three times
a day.'

Magnus was staring at me, silently, but I was just hitting my stride.

‘Then, there are werewolves,' I said. ‘Watch out for werewolves. They're normal humans most of the time – your teacher or the postman – but at full moon they change. They grow into big hairy monsters, like giant wild wolf men.
They
eat kids too,
especially
little boys. And it's full moon
very
soon so watch out.'

Magnus's bottom lip was trembling now, although he was still silent, still staring. Did I care? No. I was
so
fed up.

Then I had a thought.

‘And you know what?' I said. ‘That painting downstairs, of that sea monster? It was probably painted from
life
. It's probably a painting of a sea monster that lives around here. So keep your eyes open. Small boys are the very
first choice
of dinner for a sea monster!'

You know how you say something and you instantly regret it?

I did then.

Magnus was quaking and quivering. He was too scared even to call for Dad. One fat little tear rolled down each of his small chubby cheeks.

I felt bad. I felt grumpy and ashamed. I knew I had gone too far. ‘Just joking,' I said. ‘There
are
no monsters.'

I stomped over to the window to draw the curtains and shut out the big bright moon.

I gaped. There it was, out there in the bay, just by the island.
Again
. Something
huge
was leaping out of the water.

And this time, I saw it more clearly. It had a long neck, a snout and some weird frilly thing, flapping all around its head.

I couldn't help it.

I shrieked.

I shrieked and I shrieked and I shrieked.

 

Chapter Four