Feeling the Waves
Laura Pendennis should have been at school. She’d caught the bus as usual, but as it came into sight of the Peckerdale Grene Community Tower, and slowed down to pick up three teenagers waiting near the main gate, she’d had an urge to alight rather than travelling on to continue her formal education.
Laura often thought of it as her visible duty education, because fays and part fay ‘living human’ over here had to pay lip-service to human laws, which included going to school and gaining, or forging, official documentation. Her real education, as she considered it, came from elsewhere.
She stood up, swaying as she reached for her bag.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Amaryllis Trip, who sat beside her. Amaryllis was diminutive, blonde, hazel-eyed and sweet-natured. Just about everyone adored her, including Laura.
‘I have to go through the gateway.’
‘Oh? Oh. I’ll come too.’ Amaryllis got up as well, and together they swayed up the bus to stand behind the driver.
‘Dad?’
‘Eh?’ Jory Pendennis, financial wizard and occasional relief driver, indicated left and put his foot on the brake. He turned his head, his silver earring swaying as he moved. ‘What’s up, my maids?’
‘I’ve got to go through the gateway,’ Laura said.
‘Jamie too?’
Laura glanced down the bus to where her brother Jamie sat peering out the window. As she watched, he raised a hand and flicked a wave at the two boys and a girl waiting at the side of the road. Tempo and Timbre Merriweather, dark haired, pale skinned and unnerving, flanked the enchanting dark-eyed Amalie de Courcy like the bodyguards they were. Tim was holding her hand, which probably wasn’t in the job description, but that didn’t prevent Laura’s brother from going cow-eyed at the sight of her. ‘No, he’s going to school as usual,’ she said.
‘Okay.’ Laura’s dad operated the lever that made the bus door sigh open. He could just as well have conjured it open, but most of the kids on the bus were human, so he was careful not to do anything to make them uneasy. It was unkind to startle humans… and anyway, Jory was half-human himself.
As a young man he’d been what his wife Linda described succinctly as rackety, so the idea of his daughter and one of her best friends skipping a single day of school to skive off into the fay home-world on undeclared business didn’t bother him.
Tem and Tim got in with Amalie. Tem winked at Laura, who blushed, and the girls jumped out.
‘Pick you up at four. Be careful and be here,’ Jory said.
‘Yes, Dad,’ Laura said.
‘Okay, Jory,’ Amaryllis added.
The bus swayed into motion again, leaving Laura and Amaryllis by the main gate. A high-arched sign read Peckerdale Grene Community Tower, and they were well familiar with it.
Laura hitched her bag over her shoulder and they turned and walked under the arch. They bypassed the tower itself, heading for the copse of English trees that shielded the gateway leading to over there.
‘What’s going on?’ Amaryllis wanted to know. ‘Are we going to see Richie?’ As well as a best friend, Amaryllis was Laura’s half aunt, technically speaking… the very much younger half-sister of Laura and Jamie’s mother Linda, but they never bothered too much about that.
‘I think Richie will be there.’
Richenda Pendennis was another best friend and another aunt, a full one this time, being Jory’s very much younger sister. Just thinking about her family tree made Laura’s head hurt, so she generally didn’t.
‘Where are we going, exactly?’
Laura frowned. ‘The falls, I think.’
Amaryllis stared at her. ‘Why do you want to go to the falls today?’
‘I don’t want to. I just need to. I think. Have to see Hula.’
‘Oh.’ Understanding flooded Amaryllis’s face, and she put her arm around Laura’s shoulders. ‘You’ve got one of your feelings.’
‘Mmm.’
‘Well then, we’d better go and sort it out.’
They walked in under the trees, into the dappled shade and magical silence. In the middle of the copse hung a prosaic-looking wooden gate. It was invisible to full humans and trace fay, but Laura and Amaryllis had enough fay blood to open it easily. As Laura swung it back, they grasped hands, to ensure they arrived at the same point of over there.
‘Pixie forest?’ Amaryllis asked as they stepped forth over an invisible threshold.
Laura didn’t bother to answer.
They walked quietly through the sun-dappled trees, sweetly scented and lacking the ever-present fumes of their birth-world. In a few minutes they heard the splash of water as they approached the falls.
When they came out on the warm flat rock that surrounded the pool, it was unusually quiet. No one was diving in from the rocky cliff, no heads bobbed about in the water, no lads or maids called a cheery ‘greet you’ or invited them to swim. Even their friend Kin was missing, and she would usually pop her sleek black head up to greet them within seconds of their arrival.
‘Where are they all?’ Amaryllis asked uncertainly.
Laura shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe…’ She let her voice trail off as she noted an elderly woman sitting right at the edge of the falls, half-screened by the silver falling water.
Hula’s hair was white, and her face deeply lined, but her hearing was good, and she turned her head sharply when Laura spoke. She got up from her perch and made her way out from the mist and spray.
‘Greet you, maids,’ she said, smiling.
‘Greet you, Hula,’ Laura said. She stepped forward and kissed the water maid with affection. The waterfolk were rather casual about family relationships, but Laura knew Hula was connected with Mama Tam, whose eldest son Tane was her dad’s half-brother. Tane’s children were her half-cousins and Richenda’s half-nieces and nephew… probably. Head-hurting territory again…
‘It’s good to see you, my maid,’ Hula said cheerfully. ‘I was hoping you’d come.’
‘It’s today then?’ Laura said.
‘It is.’
‘When did you know?’
Hula hitched at her green sarong. Most water maids didn’t wear clothing, but Hula usually did. ‘Just now, probably,’ she said, gazing at the falls. A small frown flitted over her lined face. ‘I woke this morning, and had breakfast and came to the falls but…’ She trailed off, and shrugged. ‘I didn’t feel them.’
Amaryllis slipped her hand into Laura’s, and Laura was glad of the comfort.
‘It was so strange not to feel the falls.’ Hula sounded composed but puzzled. ‘Ah well, I knew it would come.’ She brightened. ‘And now I can feel the waves! That will be an adventure.’
‘When are you going?’ Laura asked.
‘Now. Yes. Would you walk along with me a bit?’
‘That’s why we came, I think,’ Laura said.
‘And why I came,’ said another voice behind them, as Richenda Pendennis popped into view. She frowned at Laura and Amaryllis. ‘You’re wearing… what?’
‘School uniform, Rich. You know that.’
Richenda laughed. ‘In a word, loves, don’t. Not here.’ She lifted a hand, jangling with silver charms, and suddenly Laura and Amaryllis were wearing soft hob smocks. Richenda embellished Laura’s with some silver rings and brooches, as a nod to their shared pisky heritage. ‘Bows, love?’ she asked Amaryllis, and without waiting for an answer, made another gesture to scatter sky-blue ribbon embroidery over her friend.
‘Really? You went there?’ Laura couldn’t help laughing. It was considered bad manners to mess with someone’s clothing uninvited, but her aunt was just as mercurial as her dad.
Hula regarded them with an affectionate smile. ‘I’m off now, maids.’
‘Us too.’ Richenda linked arms with Laura and Amaryllis, and Hula took Laura’s free hand.
Laura wasn’t sure how old Hula was, and Hula probably didn’t know either, but she had to be at least ninety. Waterfolk, like other fay, were always strong and healthy. They never got ill and were rarely injured, but they did eventually wear out and the first symptom of that was, as Hula put it, being unable to feel the falls. The next, following anything from seconds to a few days later, was a desire to feel the waves. It was a time of transition, and old lads and maids generally acted on it immediately.
Hula stepped out with the three girls, walking as smartly as they did. Richenda, who was musical, freed her arms, conjured a pisky flute and played a chord. Amaryllis joined in with a soft ahhhh, and Laura began to sing the melody. Hula sang as well, falling easily into the fourth part of the song just as her feet fell in step with the linked dance.
As often happened over there no one thought too hard about where they were going, or how to get there. They simply followed the path away from the falls, up a grassy sloping meadow, along a high ridge and down to chalk cliffs lined with furze. It was a journey that could have taken an hour or a week, depending on their intention.
With unspoken accord, the quartet stopped singing, and stood on top of the cliff, listening instead to the sough of the wind and the long sigh and splash of the sea below.
The water at the foot of the cliffs was clear and translucent, tinted like aquamarine. This was hob country, and Amaryllis, whose father was a full hob, drew a deep and satisfied breath. ‘I love this place.’
‘You should come here more often, maid,’ observed Hula. ‘I know you live over there, but you shouldn’t deny your blood.’
‘I don’t. I won’t. Thank you, Hula.’
Laura thought again how odd it was that they used the terms over here and over there for two places at once. For the fay, over here was where one happened to be, while over there was the place you weren’t.
Hula moved to the rim of the cliff, and looked down. ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said. She swayed on the brink, and for a moment Laura thought she’d just let herself fall, but she took a step back and grinned at the girls. ‘Not quite yet, my maids. Come!’ She led the way nimbly along the cliff until she came to an outcrop of chalk. She bent and put her hand on it, and stepped over the cliff. Or so Laura thought for a split second, until she realised the chalk marked the head of a steep descending path.
She stepped down in Hula’s wake, followed by Amaryllis and Richenda. The climb was slow, as none of them wanted to risk falling. Fay talent was useful, but it could carry them only so far and their bones broke just as easily as humans’. They clambered down, lowering themselves by degrees, until they reached the base of the cliff where a narrow stretch of shingled beach lay like the ruffle on a dress.
The girls were breathless, but Hula, who had the impressive lung power of the waterfolk, was breathing easily. She stretched out her arms towards the waves, and the waves… came to meet her. That was the only way to put it. Laura and the others watched bug eyed as the whitecaps tumbled and scurried to her feet, washing up against her calves and playing like a litter of puppies.
‘Ahhhh,’ said Hula on a long sigh. ‘I feel the waves.’ She stood there for a while, with the ripples frisking about her, smiling. Then she turned back to the girls. ‘Thank you for walking with me, my maids. It was a lovely treat to have you along. I’m going now.’ She opened her arms and gathered them into a hug, kissing them with affection. Then she turned back eagerly, lifted a hand to release the tie of her sarong, and walked out into the water. Waist deep, she plunged forward, submerging like a seal, surfacing, and then swimming away. The girls watched, Laura through a blur of tears, as she glided away from the cliffs. The sliding water held blue shadows, and it seemed to Laura that some of these converged on the old water maid, reaching out to her like lovers. She dived to meet them and this time, she didn’t resurface.
They stood there for a while, breathing the strong sea air. At last, they turned as one. Richenda picked up the sarong.
‘What should we do with this?’
‘I shall have it, landmaiden,’ said a soft voice, and a young woman emerged from the surf. She had long black hair, turquoise eyes, and she looked utterly foreign.
Richenda, for once with nothing to say, handed over the sarong.
‘Who—what are you, maid?’ Amaryllis asked.
‘Oh, I’m a fisher, my lovely. You won’t see too many of my kind. Not that we are few, but we don’t often come to shore.’
‘I’m—’ Laura began, but the young woman smiled and held up a shapely hand.
‘No names, lovely. Not until we meet again.’ She turned away, and then glanced over her shoulder. ‘It was a kind thing you did for the old one. I heard you singing her out to the waves.’
Without another word, she waded out, and submerged.
‘Well!’ Amaryllis said. She put her arm around Laura. ‘Don’t cry, love. We’d better get going.’
Richenda looked up at the cliff. ‘It’ll take us a while to get up there. You want to come home to Treborrow? Mum and Dad will be pleased to see you.’
Laura, too, looked up at the cliff. ‘You know I have a hob grandad here in the chalk country?’
‘Ye-es, but you don’t know him, do you?’ Amaryllis sounded uncertain.
‘I don’t, but I think I’d like to meet him. His name’s Jem Cottman and his lady, Iris, is a cottage garden fay. I don’t think she’ll mind if I just call to say greet you. Would you—would you—?’
‘We’ll come with you,’ Richenda and Amaryllis said in chorus, and they started up the cliff.
Laura often thought of it as her visible duty education, because fays and part fay ‘living human’ over here had to pay lip-service to human laws, which included going to school and gaining, or forging, official documentation. Her real education, as she considered it, came from elsewhere.
She stood up, swaying as she reached for her bag.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Amaryllis Trip, who sat beside her. Amaryllis was diminutive, blonde, hazel-eyed and sweet-natured. Just about everyone adored her, including Laura.
‘I have to go through the gateway.’
‘Oh? Oh. I’ll come too.’ Amaryllis got up as well, and together they swayed up the bus to stand behind the driver.
‘Dad?’
‘Eh?’ Jory Pendennis, financial wizard and occasional relief driver, indicated left and put his foot on the brake. He turned his head, his silver earring swaying as he moved. ‘What’s up, my maids?’
‘I’ve got to go through the gateway,’ Laura said.
‘Jamie too?’
Laura glanced down the bus to where her brother Jamie sat peering out the window. As she watched, he raised a hand and flicked a wave at the two boys and a girl waiting at the side of the road. Tempo and Timbre Merriweather, dark haired, pale skinned and unnerving, flanked the enchanting dark-eyed Amalie de Courcy like the bodyguards they were. Tim was holding her hand, which probably wasn’t in the job description, but that didn’t prevent Laura’s brother from going cow-eyed at the sight of her. ‘No, he’s going to school as usual,’ she said.
‘Okay.’ Laura’s dad operated the lever that made the bus door sigh open. He could just as well have conjured it open, but most of the kids on the bus were human, so he was careful not to do anything to make them uneasy. It was unkind to startle humans… and anyway, Jory was half-human himself.
As a young man he’d been what his wife Linda described succinctly as rackety, so the idea of his daughter and one of her best friends skipping a single day of school to skive off into the fay home-world on undeclared business didn’t bother him.
Tem and Tim got in with Amalie. Tem winked at Laura, who blushed, and the girls jumped out.
‘Pick you up at four. Be careful and be here,’ Jory said.
‘Yes, Dad,’ Laura said.
‘Okay, Jory,’ Amaryllis added.
The bus swayed into motion again, leaving Laura and Amaryllis by the main gate. A high-arched sign read Peckerdale Grene Community Tower, and they were well familiar with it.
Laura hitched her bag over her shoulder and they turned and walked under the arch. They bypassed the tower itself, heading for the copse of English trees that shielded the gateway leading to over there.
‘What’s going on?’ Amaryllis wanted to know. ‘Are we going to see Richie?’ As well as a best friend, Amaryllis was Laura’s half aunt, technically speaking… the very much younger half-sister of Laura and Jamie’s mother Linda, but they never bothered too much about that.
‘I think Richie will be there.’
Richenda Pendennis was another best friend and another aunt, a full one this time, being Jory’s very much younger sister. Just thinking about her family tree made Laura’s head hurt, so she generally didn’t.
‘Where are we going, exactly?’
Laura frowned. ‘The falls, I think.’
Amaryllis stared at her. ‘Why do you want to go to the falls today?’
‘I don’t want to. I just need to. I think. Have to see Hula.’
‘Oh.’ Understanding flooded Amaryllis’s face, and she put her arm around Laura’s shoulders. ‘You’ve got one of your feelings.’
‘Mmm.’
‘Well then, we’d better go and sort it out.’
They walked in under the trees, into the dappled shade and magical silence. In the middle of the copse hung a prosaic-looking wooden gate. It was invisible to full humans and trace fay, but Laura and Amaryllis had enough fay blood to open it easily. As Laura swung it back, they grasped hands, to ensure they arrived at the same point of over there.
‘Pixie forest?’ Amaryllis asked as they stepped forth over an invisible threshold.
Laura didn’t bother to answer.
They walked quietly through the sun-dappled trees, sweetly scented and lacking the ever-present fumes of their birth-world. In a few minutes they heard the splash of water as they approached the falls.
When they came out on the warm flat rock that surrounded the pool, it was unusually quiet. No one was diving in from the rocky cliff, no heads bobbed about in the water, no lads or maids called a cheery ‘greet you’ or invited them to swim. Even their friend Kin was missing, and she would usually pop her sleek black head up to greet them within seconds of their arrival.
‘Where are they all?’ Amaryllis asked uncertainly.
Laura shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe…’ She let her voice trail off as she noted an elderly woman sitting right at the edge of the falls, half-screened by the silver falling water.
Hula’s hair was white, and her face deeply lined, but her hearing was good, and she turned her head sharply when Laura spoke. She got up from her perch and made her way out from the mist and spray.
‘Greet you, maids,’ she said, smiling.
‘Greet you, Hula,’ Laura said. She stepped forward and kissed the water maid with affection. The waterfolk were rather casual about family relationships, but Laura knew Hula was connected with Mama Tam, whose eldest son Tane was her dad’s half-brother. Tane’s children were her half-cousins and Richenda’s half-nieces and nephew… probably. Head-hurting territory again…
‘It’s good to see you, my maid,’ Hula said cheerfully. ‘I was hoping you’d come.’
‘It’s today then?’ Laura said.
‘It is.’
‘When did you know?’
Hula hitched at her green sarong. Most water maids didn’t wear clothing, but Hula usually did. ‘Just now, probably,’ she said, gazing at the falls. A small frown flitted over her lined face. ‘I woke this morning, and had breakfast and came to the falls but…’ She trailed off, and shrugged. ‘I didn’t feel them.’
Amaryllis slipped her hand into Laura’s, and Laura was glad of the comfort.
‘It was so strange not to feel the falls.’ Hula sounded composed but puzzled. ‘Ah well, I knew it would come.’ She brightened. ‘And now I can feel the waves! That will be an adventure.’
‘When are you going?’ Laura asked.
‘Now. Yes. Would you walk along with me a bit?’
‘That’s why we came, I think,’ Laura said.
‘And why I came,’ said another voice behind them, as Richenda Pendennis popped into view. She frowned at Laura and Amaryllis. ‘You’re wearing… what?’
‘School uniform, Rich. You know that.’
Richenda laughed. ‘In a word, loves, don’t. Not here.’ She lifted a hand, jangling with silver charms, and suddenly Laura and Amaryllis were wearing soft hob smocks. Richenda embellished Laura’s with some silver rings and brooches, as a nod to their shared pisky heritage. ‘Bows, love?’ she asked Amaryllis, and without waiting for an answer, made another gesture to scatter sky-blue ribbon embroidery over her friend.
‘Really? You went there?’ Laura couldn’t help laughing. It was considered bad manners to mess with someone’s clothing uninvited, but her aunt was just as mercurial as her dad.
Hula regarded them with an affectionate smile. ‘I’m off now, maids.’
‘Us too.’ Richenda linked arms with Laura and Amaryllis, and Hula took Laura’s free hand.
Laura wasn’t sure how old Hula was, and Hula probably didn’t know either, but she had to be at least ninety. Waterfolk, like other fay, were always strong and healthy. They never got ill and were rarely injured, but they did eventually wear out and the first symptom of that was, as Hula put it, being unable to feel the falls. The next, following anything from seconds to a few days later, was a desire to feel the waves. It was a time of transition, and old lads and maids generally acted on it immediately.
Hula stepped out with the three girls, walking as smartly as they did. Richenda, who was musical, freed her arms, conjured a pisky flute and played a chord. Amaryllis joined in with a soft ahhhh, and Laura began to sing the melody. Hula sang as well, falling easily into the fourth part of the song just as her feet fell in step with the linked dance.
As often happened over there no one thought too hard about where they were going, or how to get there. They simply followed the path away from the falls, up a grassy sloping meadow, along a high ridge and down to chalk cliffs lined with furze. It was a journey that could have taken an hour or a week, depending on their intention.
With unspoken accord, the quartet stopped singing, and stood on top of the cliff, listening instead to the sough of the wind and the long sigh and splash of the sea below.
The water at the foot of the cliffs was clear and translucent, tinted like aquamarine. This was hob country, and Amaryllis, whose father was a full hob, drew a deep and satisfied breath. ‘I love this place.’
‘You should come here more often, maid,’ observed Hula. ‘I know you live over there, but you shouldn’t deny your blood.’
‘I don’t. I won’t. Thank you, Hula.’
Laura thought again how odd it was that they used the terms over here and over there for two places at once. For the fay, over here was where one happened to be, while over there was the place you weren’t.
Hula moved to the rim of the cliff, and looked down. ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said. She swayed on the brink, and for a moment Laura thought she’d just let herself fall, but she took a step back and grinned at the girls. ‘Not quite yet, my maids. Come!’ She led the way nimbly along the cliff until she came to an outcrop of chalk. She bent and put her hand on it, and stepped over the cliff. Or so Laura thought for a split second, until she realised the chalk marked the head of a steep descending path.
She stepped down in Hula’s wake, followed by Amaryllis and Richenda. The climb was slow, as none of them wanted to risk falling. Fay talent was useful, but it could carry them only so far and their bones broke just as easily as humans’. They clambered down, lowering themselves by degrees, until they reached the base of the cliff where a narrow stretch of shingled beach lay like the ruffle on a dress.
The girls were breathless, but Hula, who had the impressive lung power of the waterfolk, was breathing easily. She stretched out her arms towards the waves, and the waves… came to meet her. That was the only way to put it. Laura and the others watched bug eyed as the whitecaps tumbled and scurried to her feet, washing up against her calves and playing like a litter of puppies.
‘Ahhhh,’ said Hula on a long sigh. ‘I feel the waves.’ She stood there for a while, with the ripples frisking about her, smiling. Then she turned back to the girls. ‘Thank you for walking with me, my maids. It was a lovely treat to have you along. I’m going now.’ She opened her arms and gathered them into a hug, kissing them with affection. Then she turned back eagerly, lifted a hand to release the tie of her sarong, and walked out into the water. Waist deep, she plunged forward, submerging like a seal, surfacing, and then swimming away. The girls watched, Laura through a blur of tears, as she glided away from the cliffs. The sliding water held blue shadows, and it seemed to Laura that some of these converged on the old water maid, reaching out to her like lovers. She dived to meet them and this time, she didn’t resurface.
They stood there for a while, breathing the strong sea air. At last, they turned as one. Richenda picked up the sarong.
‘What should we do with this?’
‘I shall have it, landmaiden,’ said a soft voice, and a young woman emerged from the surf. She had long black hair, turquoise eyes, and she looked utterly foreign.
Richenda, for once with nothing to say, handed over the sarong.
‘Who—what are you, maid?’ Amaryllis asked.
‘Oh, I’m a fisher, my lovely. You won’t see too many of my kind. Not that we are few, but we don’t often come to shore.’
‘I’m—’ Laura began, but the young woman smiled and held up a shapely hand.
‘No names, lovely. Not until we meet again.’ She turned away, and then glanced over her shoulder. ‘It was a kind thing you did for the old one. I heard you singing her out to the waves.’
Without another word, she waded out, and submerged.
‘Well!’ Amaryllis said. She put her arm around Laura. ‘Don’t cry, love. We’d better get going.’
Richenda looked up at the cliff. ‘It’ll take us a while to get up there. You want to come home to Treborrow? Mum and Dad will be pleased to see you.’
Laura, too, looked up at the cliff. ‘You know I have a hob grandad here in the chalk country?’
‘Ye-es, but you don’t know him, do you?’ Amaryllis sounded uncertain.
‘I don’t, but I think I’d like to meet him. His name’s Jem Cottman and his lady, Iris, is a cottage garden fay. I don’t think she’ll mind if I just call to say greet you. Would you—would you—?’
‘We’ll come with you,’ Richenda and Amaryllis said in chorus, and they started up the cliff.