The Tunnels of Tarcoola

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Authors: Jennifer Walsh

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BOOK: The Tunnels of Tarcoola
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First published in
2012

Copyright
©
Jennifer Walsh
2012

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the
publisher. The
Australian Copyright Act 1968
(the Act) allows
a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is
the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its
educational purposes provided that the educational institution
(or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice
to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin
83
Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW
2065
Australia Phone: (
61 2
)
8425 0100
Fax: (
61 2
)
9906 2218
Email: [email protected]
Web:
www.allenandunwin.com

A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available from the
National Library of Australia
www.trove.nla.gov.au

ISBN
978 1 74237 675 2

Cover and text design by Ruth Grüner
Cover photos by house Quavondo (house), Terryfic3D, mangojuicy,
Anna Godfrey, Kasper Rasmussen, thinair28 / iStockphoto
Set in
11.1
pt Minion Regular by Ruth Grüner
Printed in Australia in November 2011 at McPherson's Printing Group,
76
 Nelson St, Maryborough, Victoria
3465
, Australia.
www.mcphersonsprinting.com.au

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Ebook Producation by
Midland Typesetters
Australia

JENNIFER WALSH
grew up in a country town, the youngest of three girls. When she and her sisters weren't jumping off haystacks, they were reading. Their father also read aloud to them, starting with
Great Expectations
and B
lack Beauty
and proceeding to stories he made up himself. Jennifer became a teacher, later worked in the theatre for some years, then ‘accidentally' became a writer of computer user guides, a job that took her around the world.

Jennifer lives in Balmain in Sydney's inner west with her husband, actor Bruce Spence, and a tortoiseshell cat.
The Tunnels of Tarcoola
was inspired by the abandoned coalmines that really do exist under much of Balmain.

‘OUCH!'
Martin O'Brien threw his arms over his head to ward off a shower of stones as his sister slithered down the low cliff-face after him.

‘Stop, Kitty. Wait!' But before he could get out of the way she had cannoned into him and they had landed in an untidy pile on the narrow beach.

‘Where've you been?' said Andrea, scrambling over the rocks to join them. ‘You said you'd come straight after school.' There was sand in the damp hair, dyed red and black, that dangled over her forehead.

‘We got sprung. Martin had to do his homework before we could go out.' Kitty had pulled her shoes and socks off and was splashing about in the shallows.

‘Come round here!' called David. ‘We've found something really cool.'

‘You mean
I've
found something really cool.' Andrea led the way around the point. Above them the cries of small children playing in the park floated on the warm spring air. People would be walking their dogs, mothers gossiping, the usual drunks slumbering peacefully in the grass. But down here at the base of the cliffs it was a different world, far from the city, far from the school on the next headland, far from the terrace houses towering over the bay.

The park had been the centre of their lives since they were toddlers being pushed on the swings. They had played their first ball games there, tippety-run cricket on long summer evenings, soccer when the days turned cool. They had had birthday parties and family picnics there, fathers lugging the heavy portable barbecues. Now they were free to go to the park on their own, but Kitty and Martin's cautious parents had said they weren't to go down to the water. Martin wished he had parents like David's, who treated him as an adult and let him do whatever he liked. Andrea could do whatever she liked too, because her mother didn't seem to notice; and Andrea liked to do lots of things, especially if they were dangerous.

‘Everything's really weird today,' she called back. ‘The tide's just gone way out, the way it does when a tsunami's about to hit, you know? So suddenly there was a whole new beach and then pow! I saw it!'

Now Kitty and Martin saw it too. The retreating tide had uncovered hard-packed sand and dark rocks of all sizes, including some they'd never seen before.

‘Hey, these are the Stepping Stones!' cried Kitty, her round face pink with exertion as she tried to keep up with the others on her short legs. ‘Look, they're sitting on the sand. And this has to be the Doughnut!'

The Doughnut was the first of a line of rocks that stretched across the water – stepping stones only for the brave, because you had to jump a long way from rock to rock. Now, with the tide way out, you could see that the hole in the centre of the Doughnut was very deep.

‘It's a giant toilet!' Kitty giggled, climbing onto it. ‘Only all the water's gone!' She shoved her head into the hole and shouted, ‘Hellooooo!'

Her long plait dangled over her eyes as she straightened up. ‘No echo?'

‘It's better than that,' said Andrea. ‘There's a cave.'

Martin looked around. ‘Where?'

‘Look,' said David. ‘It's . . . '

‘I'm showing them.' Andrea pushed him aside. ‘It's my cave!' She climbed onto the Doughnut and lowered herself into the hole. Her head disappeared, and a moment later they heard her voice, faint and slightly hollow. ‘Come on!'

‘Oh, wow!' Kitty dropped her shoes and socks and scrambled into the hole. Martin followed, and they got into an awkward tangle before they managed to work out how to squeeze through the narrowest section.

At the bottom, the shaft curved towards the cliff-face. Martin wriggled awkwardly, feet-first, into a cavern big enough to stand up in. Most of it was filled with water, now just ankle-deep, and there were constant drips from above. An eerie green light came through the hole in the Doughnut, and from other cracks and fissures in the cave walls.

‘Got your Gadget, David?' muttered Martin. David whipped it out of his pocket. His father had brought the Gadget back from Japan, and it had everything: screwdrivers, scissors, a fan with detachable blades and even a little torch, all folded up like a pocket knife.

Now David was playing the torch beam around the cavern. Andrea pointed. ‘Look, this gets better and better. A tunnel!'

Sure enough, a fissure at the back of the cave opened into a narrow tunnel, winding downwards and to the left. David peered into it.

‘Great!' he said. ‘Let's get ropes and proper torches. Maybe if we come back on Saturday . . . '

‘Oh, come on, David!' implored Andrea. ‘Let's explore it now. Hey, it probably doesn't go very far.'

‘I really don't think we should,' said David firmly. ‘I think the tide's on the turn, and it's a bit late. What do you think, Marty?'

‘Yeah, what do you think, Marty?' Andrea had that dangerous look in her eye. ‘Are you scared too?'

‘Course not.' Martin felt his cheeks burning. To tell the truth, if he was scared of anything these days it was Andrea. When they were younger everyone used to say she was his girlfriend. For all he knew she still was – it was just that he couldn't remember ever deciding that, or having a conversation with her about it. He looked apologetically at David. ‘How about we just go a little way in?'

David shrugged. ‘Okay, okay. Just having my say.' The others pressed close behind him as they entered the tunnel. The light from David's torch was weak, but in his flapping white shirt he was easy to see at the head of the little procession.

Kitty brought up the rear, clinging to the back of Martin's T-shirt. He could hear her muttering crossly, ‘And what about you, Kitty? What do
you
think we should do? Oh, what do
I
 think? You're asking
me
?'

The tunnel dipped, then wound upwards, and the sandy floor gave way to rough rock. At one point David jumped, and Andrea gave a little scream.

‘Sorry,' said David. ‘Something brushed my cheek.'

‘Orcs!' breathed Martin. ‘Or maybe – could it be – the Balrog?'

‘Shut up, Marty!' David shone the torch beam on the roof. Here and there bunches of tree roots had penetrated the rock.

‘I reckon we're right under the park,' said Martin.

‘No way.' Kitty was quite definite. ‘We've gone a lot further than that. We're somewhere near the Haunted House.'

They were still arguing the point when David stopped suddenly and they all piled into him. ‘That does it,' he said, making a sweeping movement with his torch. ‘We've got to go back and get proper equipment.'

Ahead of them was an intersection. A tall, narrow tunnel opened to the right. The tunnel they were in veered to the left, but it was low and round – they would have to stoop or crawl to get through it.

‘I'm not going any further,' said David. ‘We'll be lost in no time.'

‘Okay, okay,' grumbled Andrea. ‘But we're coming back tomorrow, right? This is the best thing we've found since Fang!' Fang was the puppy they had found shivering on the beach the previous summer, now a large untidy dog who lived with Andrea's father in the country.

Since there was not enough room to pass each other in the narrow passage the Gadget was handed to Kitty, who led them back along the twisting tunnel.

‘Do you think we could have gone wrong?' said David. ‘It seems to be taking forever.'

‘Well, we went a long way,' returned Martin. ‘Look, it's sloping down now. We're nearly there.'

Suddenly Kitty stopped.

‘Watch it!' hissed Andrea, almost falling over her.

‘Ummm . . . Trouble.' Kitty's voice was shaking slightly. She shone the torch down the passageway ahead. They all saw the glint as its beam reflected on water.

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