The Secret Tide

The Secret Tide

By Paul Frith

Text copyright ©Paul Frith 2012

All rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

Paul Frith’s Blog address is:

www.paulfrith.wordpress.com

Paul Frith asserts the moral right to

Be identified as the author of this work.

No part of this publication may be

reproduced, stored in a retrieval system

or transmitted in any form or by any means,

electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording

or otherwise, without the prior permission

of the publishers.

For

Kerris, Henry and Hermione and for all

the magnificent adventures coming your way.

CHAPTER 1

When the Rain Stopped

You may have heard of the tides of the sea or even been fortunate enough to have seen them. They teach about them in school but, try finding them in books or seeing them first hand because depending on how old you are sometimes depends on what you hear. If they think you’re too young then they’ll tell you about the man in the moon, how he controls the tides, pushing and pulling at the watery oceans. To most of us though we’re happy to call it Mother Nature, pulling back the hem of her skirts to reveal her bruised and battered knees. That’s the tide we all know; the one the fishermen wait patiently for and the one that runs free through our toes, tickling and refreshing. But there is another tide, a secret one that only a handful of people know about.

It was the same tide that managed to change the young lives of Tom and Molly Shuttle when they discovered it. Of course they wouldn’t realise it at the time as they both sat on the doorstep of their house on Sigmund Road, suitcases packed, a pair of glum faces staring at the newly formed rain puddle by their feet. Even their mother’s voice couldn’t stir them into action.

‘Come on you two, you’ll miss your train.’

Molly began to cry. She didn’t want to go to her aunt and uncle in Willow-by-the-Sea. She didn’t even know them and she didn’t want to leave mum and dad.

‘Hey what’s the matter little Moll? You should be excited. You’re going on your holidays by the sea,’ her mum said. She tried to stroke her daughter’s silky blonde hair but Molly found a space under Tom’s arm. She almost knocked Tom off the step and into the brambles. Ordinarily, Tom would have flicked her head for doing such a thing to her older brother but under the circumstances he thought better of it.

He straightened up and looked at his mum. He was determined not to cry but he couldn’t be sure if his mum noticed the tear that he felt welling up in his eye.

‘Tom?’ His mum looked questioningly at him.

‘She’s afraid that when we get back that you and dad won’t be here,’ Tom said solemnly.

Jane Shuttle stood up straight clasping her hips. Her crimson fingernails were spread out over her jeans like dragon’s teeth. Tom could remember thinking how glad he was that she was his mum and how none of the other mums dared to mess with her because sometimes her temper was as fiery as her red hair, which at that moment was daring the rain to fall upon it. But Tom and Molly saw no signs of anger on her face, only sadness.

Mrs Shuttle swept Molly up in her arms and this time Molly didn’t pull away. ‘Oh my little lady. Don’t think that. That’s not going to happen. Why would you think that?’

‘Why are you sending us away? What have we done wrong?’ Molly sobbed into her mum’s shoulder.

‘We’re not sending you away sweetheart,’ she said, softly squeezing Molly. ‘And don’t you think you’ve done anything wrong because that’s just not true.’

‘Then why aren’t you and dad coming with us?’ Molly said through her tears.

‘Me and dad thought we’d spend some time together, might talk about buying you a great big present for when you get back. How would that sound?’

Molly thought about it for a while and then said, ‘But I don’t want a present, I want you and dad to come with us.’

‘Moll when you get there you’ll forget all about your dad and me because of all the fun you and Tom will be having. Isn’t that right Tom?’

Tom just sat on the step quietly looking up at them both, not noticing at first his dad pulling onto the drive. ‘Come on Moll we’d better go,’ Tom said. He got up and took two small suitcases to the back of the car and waited for Molly. Dad met him at the boot and messed up his hair as usual. ‘Ok there tiger?’ he said to Tom.

Tom looked up at him squinting in the morning light. ‘Yeah.’

Eric Shuttle threw the cases effortlessly into the boot of the car while saying, ‘Now remember buddy you’re in charge. Your job is to look after your sister. You’ll be all right though. Don’t forget your Aunt Winifred and Uncle Rudy will meet you off the train at one thirty. That’s what time the train gets in. What time?’ Mr Shuttle was already at the front of the car ready to get in when he stopped and noticed Tom hadn’t moved. He was still looking at his mum and his little sister as they embraced. ‘Tom,’ Mr Shuttle said a little louder.

This time Tom heard him and quickly jumped into the back of the car. As he fumbled with the seat belt he said, ‘One thirty dad,’ and managed a smile, the first of the day.

Mr Shuttle watched Tom follow the raindrops with his finger, zigzagging down the window. ‘It’ll be alright you know,’ his dad said.

Molly settled herself in the seat next to Tom and he knew she was all right when she asked mum exactly how big her present would be. Eric Shuttle eased the car out onto Sigmund Road and turned left at the lights in the direction of the Railway station.

The rain hammered down mercilessly on the train as it stood in the station. Inside the railway car that Tom and Molly had all to themselves it sounded like a low rumble of thunder. Tom had given Molly plenty of sweets to keep her busy until the train pulled out of Duckmanforth station. She hardly noticed her mum and dad stood on the platform soaked to the skin, waving frantically as the train eventually heaved its way along the tracks. Molly quickly waved and was straight back to the bundle of sweets cradled in her lap.

Tom however kept on waving until he had to stand up to catch a last glimpse of them together on the platform. Even when they had stopped waving and were walking back to the car Tom continued to watch. He watched, as they both walked as separate people would walk. But they did it as if they didn’t know each other, almost as if they had never known each other. Tom slumped back into his seat and thought about the summer ahead of them. Molly had dozed off, crammed full of chocolate limes and wine gums and it wasn’t long before Tom had joined her.

*

Tom dreamt he and Molly were on a train and in the distance Tom could see a sign planted firmly in the ground next to the train tracks. It was some way off but Tom could see the giant letters in rainbow colours. They read Willow-by-the-Sea and as the train passed the sign Tom noticed some smaller writing just below that said, You have been warned.

Suddenly an ocean of bright light poured into the train car as the countryside outside exploded with all its colours. Golden fields ran with green ones swaying to the music of a gentle breeze and the cows and the horses and the sheep that weren’t there at all at first were all watching as the train went by. It all seemed to happen in a second. Tom wondered what had happened to the storm they were in. He couldn’t think straight in this particular dream. He pressed his face against the window to look behind where the train had been. To his utter amazement he saw that immediately behind the sign they had passed the train tracks had disappeared into a messy wall of rain and wind.

The train itself seemed to slow to a more relaxed pace in its new surroundings as though it were relieved to be out of the storm. Tom sat back in his seat only after forcing himself to look again at the blustery showers they had left behind. He looked across to where Molly was sitting and saw she was sleeping. He tried to wake her. The only thing was that when he stood up he noticed the train had started to sway from side to side. He could hardly stand straight as the train rocked him from one foot to the other. There was nothing he could hold onto so he just flopped back in his seat. It was probably a good idea to leave Molly, as he was unsure of how she would take the bumpy train. The last thing he needed, he thought, was a hysterical eight year old clinging to him for dear life.

There was a reason for the train swaying as it did. Outside the scene had changed again. From where he sat, deeper in his seat Tom watched as the colours started to merge. The greens and browns of the trees fell into the whites and blacks of the cows. The sky seemed to drop from above and wash away the golden fields below. The train was getting faster and faster.

It began to shake and shudder. It was faster than any roller coaster Tom had ever been on with his dad. All he could think about was whether he would be sick like that last time he was on a roller coaster.

Tom couldn’t decipher the picture outside anymore as it became a fantastic blur. He gripped the arms of his chair and wondered how a train going this fast could ever stay on its tracks.

He was so scared he thought he would scream but then suddenly the train stopped shaking and shuddering and swaying. The suitcases, which were perched above Molly’s head, fell from their wiry shelf to the floor. The sick feeling Tom was afraid might come did come to his stomach but it was soon replaced by a tickling feeling that reminded him of the top of a roller coaster, just before you swoop down to the ground.

When he looked over at Molly again his mouth almost dropped to the floor. She had risen from her seat nearly a foot in the air before coming down with a bump. Tom felt himself lifting off his own seat so he quickly grabbed hold of both arms of the chair. As he desperately looked round for something else he could hold onto he caught a glimpse out of the window. This time it wasn’t a mass of beautiful colours he saw, this time it was all blue, sky blue.

Little beads of nervous sweat trickled down his forehead as he reluctantly craned his neck to see out of the window. Immediately both his hands shot quickly up to his mouth to stop himself screaming. Just as quickly he fell off his seat and landed on the suitcases in a terrible heap.

‘We’re flying Moll,’ he whispered. He scrambled to his feet and hugged the window.

Down below the ground whizzed by at an alarming rate. Tom could just make out the houses and cars on the country roads. Even the houses looked tiny, like looking down on a Monopoly board. There was a whooshing sound as the train darted through a cloud. It startled Tom as the window filled with an eerie fog. But as soon as it had come then it was gone.

Tom felt a little queasy by now and decided to retake his seat. He wasn’t sure he liked this flying business.

‘It’s only a dream, it’s only a dream,’ he said over and over again. I’ll wake up in a minute, he thought. Just then he heard a screechy voice say, ‘Morning Tom.’

He looked at Molly first, she was still sleeping. Then he looked around the train car. The only doors in the carriage were pulled shut. He even checked under the seats but they were all alone. He sat back again thinking this was just an annoying dream when he heard the voice again, ‘It’s certainly a nice day for it don’t you think?’

Tom shot a glance out of the window and as he did he fell off his seat again. This time though, he was reluctant to get up. He couldn’t believe what he had seen. Slowly he got up and slowly the thing he had seen came into view.

‘Hold on their Tom. It can be a bumpy ride if you’re not used to it,’ said the seagull. It had big black teardrop eyes and Tom could have sworn it was smiling at him.

‘How do you know my name,’ Tom said, then realising he was having a conversation with a seagull.

‘Oh everybody knows about you and Molly. They’re all expecting you, your aunt, your uncle and cousin Seymour,’ the gull said, his giant wings flapping hard to keep up with the train. The seagull let out a moan, ‘I’ll tell you Tom either this train is getting faster or I’m not getting any younger.’ The gull laughed out loud, which to Tom sounded like the seagulls he’d heard at Blackpool. Perhaps that’s all seagulls ever do is laugh, he thought to himself.

‘But I don’t understand. How can....’

‘Oh! Looks like you’re pulling into Willow now young Tom. I’ll be seeing you.’ The gull started to bank to the right, away from the train when Tom shouted out.

‘Wait. Please wait.’

The gull adjusted his wings and returned to the window. The train was slowing so the gull just glided along. Tom felt uncomfortable, as the gull seemed to be staring deep into his eyes. He wasn’t sure at all what he was going to ask the gull. Everything so far had been more than a little strange but it turned out that he didn’t have to say anything. The gull flew precariously close to the window and said, ‘You enjoy your holiday Mr. Tom. Forget about everything else. It’ll be alright you know.’ The gull winked at him and then he was gone.

A warm smile appeared on Tom’s face and as it did he gave a little nod. He recognised his father’s words from the car as the gull had spoken them. He looked at Molly and wondered how she could still be sleeping. He was about to wake her when he heard in the distance the sound of music. It sounded like an out of practice brass band. The notes he heard went up and down, sometimes at the same time and quite often they squeaked like a frightened mouse. The train was descending now and as the people and the houses got bigger he saw the odd looking band dressed in red and gold uniforms with bright yellow blossoms stuck in their official looking hats. They were stood neatly on the platform. Above them was a banner flapping about in the wind. Tom could just about make out the words. It said, Welcome Tom and Molly.

This was all too much for poor young Tom and suddenly he became very tired. As soon as he found his seat it seemed he drifted off and the last thing he remembered was Molly excitedly calling out his name.

‘Tom, Tom, we’re here, we’re here,’ Molly shouted, pulling on Tom’s arm.

Through a sleepy haze Tom opened his eyes to greet the beaming sunshine of Willow-by-the-Sea. He looked out of the window and to his relief he saw that all was how it should be. The trees and fields simply strolled by the window and the cows and the sheep were more concerned with filling their bellies with the luscious grass than staring at the noisy train.

‘Are you alright Moll, you were fast asleep most of the way,’ Tom asked, remembering dad’s instructions to look after Molly.

‘I was asleep? What about you? I thought you were going to miss all the fun.’

‘I think I had a dream and that had just about enough fun in it to last the whole summer...hang on, what fun Moll?’

‘Look.’ Molly used two hands this time to pull him off the seat and to the window.

Tom was still rubbing his eyes as he squared up to the window. But when the sleepy fog lifted he almost fainted. In a gallant effort to protect his little sister he stood behind her and held her to the spot.

‘Isn’t it wonderful,’ she said without taking her eyes off the brass band outside.

‘Is it real?’ Tom looked at Molly nervously. But Molly seemed to ignore his question.

Tom watched agog as a very fat man dressed in an ill fitting band uniform waved his pointy stick at the rest of the colourful group. Then suddenly the band exploded into about three different tunes. Tom and Molly both jumped on the spot. It made Molly laugh uncontrollably for about five minutes before they finally made their way off the train.

With some relief Tom caught a glance at the banner when he got off the train and saw that it read Welcome Bob and Folly. He yanked the two cases from the train smiling and more than once he looked up at the clear blue sky for a seagull he thought he’d seen. He grabbed Molly’s arm saying, ‘Now you stay close to me. Remember we don’t even know what these people look like.’

Molly struggled in his grip. ‘Then how are we going to...’

There was a high pitched scream that cut through the noise of the band and then they heard their names.

‘Tom! Molly!’

A rather large woman bounded towards them in a way that made her skirt and apron fly about like the sails of a ship to reveal two very large green wellington boots. Molly started laughing again and Tom had to give her a dead-arm to quieten her. As the large woman got closer Molly backed into Tom.

‘Winifred dearest, slow down. Now you know the drill dear,’ another voice said from behind the large woman.

The large woman had stopped a few feet short of Tom and Molly and was panting like a prize racehorse. Her face was round and red like a ripe berry and her hair was tied back in a bun tighter than the bandleader’s uniform, Tom thought immediately. This time Tom had to stop himself from laughing as the woman’s hair pulled back her eyes to give her a permanently surprised look.

‘I know,’ the woman said as she beamed at the two of them, ‘but just look at them. Aren’t they the most beautifulist kiddies you’ve ever seen; apart from our Seymour o’course but, well.’

Right about then a small man appeared from behind the large woman. He was stick thin and dressed in a tweed suit with great big green socks pulled over his trouser bottoms. He was bald on the top of his head but out of the sides sprang out the wildest white hair you could imagine. It was the colour of the clouds in the sky and just as fluffy. ‘Right, right,’ he said out of breath. ‘You must be a pair of Shuttles,’