The Tide of Terror

Chapter Three

Chapter ThreeThe call came from the harbour-master at around four o'clock that afternoon. Jenny hastily closed the shop, leaving the usual “back soon” message on the door, and then raced off down to the harbour in the rescue-centre's van. She arrived in less than five minutes. The harbour master was impressed.

“That's quick work – well done!”

“You said it was urgent.” Jenny was breathing hard and she gazed out towards the bay looking concerned.

“Well, I've always been a bit of an animal lover. Jordan's down there, on the beach. He's trying to catch it.”

“OK. Let's go.”

Jenny had a large net, towel and dog carrier in the back of the van. She always kept a wide range of equipment with her, ready for any eventuality. Now the harbour-master helped her to get it all out. They then strode briskly down towards the seashore, over the dunes, to where Jordan, one of the dying breed of local fishermen, stood, bent double, hands on hips, taking in huge gulps of air. He grinned ruefully as the others approached.

“This is hard work, Calvin.”

Calvin Brewster, the harbour-master, shook his head. “We'll soon have him, Jordan. Don't worry.”

Jenny was not quite so certain. She clutched at the net and gave a determined grunt. “Right. let's go and catch that gannet.”

She was correct in her thinking.

The gannet was large, even for its species, and very determined not to be caught. It obviously had a broken wing, its left one looking slightly askew, sticking out at an awkward angle from its sleek, yet powerful body. It could still move incredibly fast, despite its injury. As the three people approached it from different angles, it sat there, eying them suspiciously. While it seemed submissive, it would wait until the very last moment and then, as one of them launched themselves towards the great bird, it would veer off with incredible agility and slip out of their reach. It would then just stand there, a few more feet away, and mock them with its glinting eyes.

Jordan, who had no doubt been repeating the same tactic, with the same results, for some considerable time, had had enough and he flopped down on one of the small dunes to take a breather. While he sat, the gannet approached and looked up at him, c*****g its head to one side, as if it were saying, 'Had enough have we? Need a rest?' Jenny laughed, which only caused Jordan to shoot her an angry look.

Calvin shook his head. “This thing is playing games with us, Jenny. Look at it. It's laughing its head off.”

It was true. The big bird now started to cry out in a very obvious and annoying way. Jenny hefted the net in both hands and made a determined swipe at the bird, which merely stepped back, nimble-footed, leaving Jenny to stumble forward and land, face first into the sand. Both the men laughed out loud this time. Not reacting, Jenny propped up her head and blew the hair out of her eyes. This only caused sand to swirl up and hit her full in the face. She cried out, screwing up her eyes and rubbing them with her fists. Amidst the laughter, the bird stepped up to the fallen net and pecked at the handle just once. Then it joined in with the chorus of guffaws.

Jenny did not appreciate the joke.

For the next two hours it was a mad scramble to try and catch the large bird. They took turns, two working while a third rested, all the while trying to cut off the bird's avenues of escape, and each time failing miserable. It was simply too astute to allow them to corner it. But as the struggle wore on, the bird itself began to tire and its little dancing skips became less energetic and pronounced. After Calvin got on his mobile and asked his deputy, Jim Spears to come and assist, the bird was standing on a mound, its beak open, tongue exposed, breathing quite hard. It failed to notice Jim sneaking up behind and when the man launched himself and grabbed it like a rugby ball, the others all pounced before it could react. Jenny had no use of the net, but she put the towel around its head to calm it down, then managed to squeeze it into the dog carrier. She closed and locked the little door and stepped back, grinning triumphantly. “Well done, Jim!”

“Nothing in a day's work for the harbour-master's deputy, Jen.”

Jordan groaned, Calvin blew out his cheeks, and Jenny merely smiled.

The struggle to get the bird transferred from the dog carrier to a holding pen was not quite as difficult as the skirmish on the beach, but it was still work. The towel over the bird's head helped considerably and when it was finally in the pen, Jenny sat back on the ground and stared at the big bird with something akin to admiration in her eyes.

Its white plumage was dazzling. A magnificent bird, it raised its great orange-topped head, as if in self-admiration, and it sat and watched Jenny as closely as she was watching it. Slowly, it gradually took to preening itself with its long, streamlined bill. But all the while it kept at least one eye on her. There was no trust there, not yet. Jenny peered closely at the bird, trying to detect how damaged its wing was. Jordan had told her that it had come in close as he and his crew were bringing their little boat into the harbour. That it had somehow got tangled up in one of the nets and had panicked. In its wild attempts to extract itself, it had only managed to twist itself completely around, its wing jarring behind itself. This had resulted in either a broken or dislocated wing, a rare injury for such a bird. Mostly gulls followed the fishing boats. Gannets usually concentrated on diving for mackerel, or other fish. Why then would this particular gannet do something so unusual? Jenny then grew more puzzled by something she recognised. The bird had a very unusual black smudge on its throat. And she knew where she had seen that before. On the bird that had stood on the kennel roof the night before.

There were only two dogs boarding at the centre, so Jenny took them both out for a walk later in the evening. It was mild and as she crossed the stretch of beach, she reflected on the day. And what a day it had been. Interviews with the local press and rescuing an injured gannet. She often had busy days, but not usually in quite the same way. Two rescued wild creatures, both very different, and yet both of which brought into the centre because of man. One incident deliberate, the other purely accidental. But, both examples of how even the tiniest of man's meddling could impact on nature. As she mused about how far bigger incidents could affect the environment, such as an oil-spill from a stranded tanker, she let the dogs go and watched them hurtle over the sand, barking and bashing into one another as they went. She stood up and gave a startled yelp as she saw, quite unexpectedly, Josh Stewart, the reporter, standing not two metres in front her, grinning broadly.

“Hello Jen, sorry to frighten you.”

“Well you did, sneaking up on me like that.”

“I called you, but you were miles away. Thinking.”

“Yes. Yes, I was.”

“About what animal to rescue next?”

“Pardon?”

“I heard about your little escapade with the seagull.”

“Gannet. It was a gannet.” Jenny looked at him, raising one eyebrow. “How did you know?”

He shrugged. “I'm a reporter, Jen. That's what I do. Snoop.”

Jenny wasn't too sure whether she liked the idea of being snooped on. She turned and looked out to sea, not really wanting to look at his cheery face anymore.

“Sorry,” he said and stepped up closer to her. “I didn't mean that the way it sounded.”

“So, you weren't prying into my daily life then?” She was angry now. Reporting and interviewing her were things she could just about handle, but the thought that someone, reporter or not, was delving around trying to find out more about her and her job…well, it was just a little too much. “It's my job, Mr Stewart. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. It's just what I do.”

He blinked at that, no doubt feeling the hurt of having his own words thrown back at him. “I've insulted you, I never meant to. It was just I was waiting for my taxi down at the hotel and I heard the news. It would give a lot more flesh to my story, that's all.” He came around and looked at her, his face serious for the first time since she met him. “Honestly, I apologise. I wasn't snooping. I just overheard, that's all. News gets around pretty quick in this place.”

She relented a little, the stiffness falling off her shoulders. “Yes, and if we're not careful, someone will see us on this beach and think we're engaged!” He laughed. “No, I'm being serious. I only have to have a drink with a man and everyone thinks I'm going out with him, that I'm set up for life. People gossip here, Mr Stewart, and everyone believes the gossip.”

“But that happens everywhere. People love to spread rumours.”

“Yes, I know. It's just that here, it being so small, so close, those rumours tend to come back in your face. You can't get away from anything here.”

“Must be hard for you, being a single woman I mean.”

“It can be. Sometimes. But I've no plans to go looking for someone, to protect me, if that's what you mean. Not yet, anyway.” She looked out across the beach to where the two dogs were still playing madly with one another. “I like being alone.”

“Really? So, there's no one else in your life?”

“Is this going to be part of your story, Mr Stewart?”

“No!” He glanced out to sea for a second, “Call me Josh, please. No, I won't be using that. Just me wanting to know a little more about you, that's all.”

“I see. Well, there's no one else in my life. Only the animals. And believe me, they keep me far too busy for any man to get my attention.”

He nodded, as if he knew exactly what she was saying. His words confirmed her thought. “It's the same with me. My job. It takes up every waking moment! My wife, she isn't very happy with things at the moment.”

“Ah,” it was now Jenny's turn to nod knowingly, “so, you're married. More to the job than the woman, eh?”

“In some ways. I'm hoping we can move away soon. I've got an interview for a big national over in London. Could be the making of me. More money, more opportunity. Hopefully, a little less travelling. At least, that's the plan.”

“I hope it works out.” She brought her fingers to her lips and blew a loud, shrill whistle through them. The two dogs stopped, looked, and then began to hurtle back towards her. “When will the article appear?”

“Weekend. I'm going to add the little bit about the gannet, if that's all right with you.”

“Two rescues in two days. It's not always like this, you know.” The dogs bounded up to her, the big Labrador, called Samson, jumped up at her with his great, sand-encrusted paws which landed heavily on her shoulders. He gave her a sloppy lick across her face.

Josh was laughing. “No, but I can see how it usually is!”

Then, quite by surprise, the other dog, a rather sprightly Welsh-Springer by the name of Tom, launched itself at Josh, knocking him to the ground in a great cloud of sand, where he lay, with the dog lapping at his mouth.

“Welcome to 'Island animal-Rescue',” shouted Jenny as she battled to bring Samson to heel.