The Crossing of Ingo

“I hear they hurt your Sadie.”

“We took her to the vet. She had to have stitches, but she’s OK now, except she’s been asleep most of the time since. She doesn’t want to come out from under the table.”

Granny Carne bends down and whistles softly. Immediately Sadie stirs. Shaking her head as if to shake away a bad dream, she creeps out from her shelter and rubs against Granny Carne’s long skirt. Sadie trusts Granny Carne more than anyone except me, ever since she almost died and Granny Carne healed her.

“She’s not looking so good, spite of what the vet’s done for her,” observes Granny Carne. A pang of dread goes through me.

“She’s all right. The vet said she was.”

“All right, is she?” asks Granny Carne. I look at Sadie. Her tail is down. She’s huddling against Granny Carne as if she wants to make herself disappear.

“She’s still scared that the gulls will get her,” I say.

“With reason good,” answers Granny Carne. “A dog can’t stay in a house all day long, cowering under a table. It’s not in her nature.” She bends down and strokes Sadie with a strong, reassuring hand. “It’s not in her nature, what’s going on here. You let me take Sadie, my girl.”

“Take Sadie!”

“You let her come up to my cottage where she’ll be safe. There’s no shadow of a gull there.” Granny Carne looks up, straight at me, hard and clear.

“But… but I look after her. I won’t let anything hurt her.”

Granny Carne glances down at Sadie’s back. She doesn’t say anything about the injury. She doesn’t need to. “Listen, Sapphire. Nothing of Ingo is going to come close to where I am. Sadie can walk on the Downs with me and be free. Those gulls lifted off your roof the moment they saw me put my foot to your threshold. But once I’m gone, they’ll be back, and more of them each day. You want your dog to be frightened out of her life? You give Sadie to me and no harm will come near her.”

Sadie is watching Granny Carne’s face very closely, following the conversation. She whines deep in her throat, as if agreeing.

“But I can’t. She’ll miss me too much.” I’ll miss her too much, is what I don’t say. “Sadie needs me.”

“How will you look after Sadie where you’re going?” asks Granny Carne. Her face is stern, intent. There is no point trying to pretend I don’t know what she means.

“How do you know?”

“You’ve been called to make that Crossing. You remember I told you once, my girl, neither hell nor high water would stop you once your heard that Call. And your brother too. Look at your face. Look at those gulls gathering. There’s some in Ingo don’t want you to make it, seemingly.”

“But we can’t go. Sadie – Mum—” Suddenly the reality of it hits me as hard as a blow. I am only going to hear that Call once in my life. If I don’t go, I’ll feel as if something has reached inside me and ripped my spirit down the middle like a piece of paper.

“Some things, if you don’t do them, they follow you all your life, whispering in your ear,” says Granny Carne. She faces me sternly as if she’s judging me. “You’ll find a dozen good reasons why you pulled back from the Call, and you’ll even fool yourself that you had no other choice. But in your bed at night you’ll curse yourself for a coward.”

I stare at her in astonishment. Why isn’t Granny Carne trying to keep me here, as she’s always tried before? It feels like a cold wind whistling through me. Granny Carne isn’t going to stop us. The choice is completely ours.

I hear the creak of Conor’s loft ladder. He’s heard voices and he’s coming down to see who is here. The door opens and he ambles into the room, yawning and wrapped up in his duvet as usual.

“Granny Carne.” A slow, warm smile spreads over Conor’s face.

“Yes. I’ve been talking to your Sapphire. The two of you are going out into the world, seemingly.” Conor shoots me an accusing look.

“I didn’t tell her. She knew,” I say quickly. “But, Con, I can’t see how we’re going to do it. There’s Sadie, and Mum, and everyone else. They’ll think we’ve – we’ve disappeared.”

“Like Dad,” says Conor. He frowns, thinking. Conor is logical. He always looks to find a path to a solution. Usually it works, but this time logic isn’t going to help. Granny Carne isn’t going to help either. She stands there, watching, waiting.

“There’ll be more than those gulls wanting to stop you,” she observes.

“I know,” says Conor.

“I’ve no rowan berries for your protection this time. You’ll have to go alone.”

Without meaning to, I glance down at the bracelet on my wrist. My deublek. Granny Carne’s gaze follows mine. “Earth can’t help you in the Crossing.”

“We’re not helpless,” says Conor hotly.

“I know that, my boy.” Granny Carne’s ancient, hardened face remains impassive, but her eyes soften as she looks at Conor. “I can’t give you anything. No berries, no touch of fire. There’s no Earth magic where you’re going, only what’s inside yourselves.” She pauses. Her owl eyes are lit up now, fierce and bright. “But never forget how strong that is. Come here, give me your hands.” She takes Conor’s outstretched hands and presses his thumbs together. “Think of what’s strongest for you here on Earth,” she whispers. “Let it come to you. Don’t force your thoughts now.”

Conor closes his eyes. I look away. I feel as if I shouldn’t spy into his thoughts. There is a long silence, then Conor opens his eyes again. He looks surprised, as if what came into his mind wasn’t what he’d expected.

“Now you, Sapphire.” My thumbs touch. It feels like a connection being made. “Think of what’s strongest for you here on Earth,” she says. “Let it come to you.”

I don’t even have to think. Sadie leaps into my mind, bounding down the track towards me. Her eyes glow, and her golden coat shines in the sun. I hear her bark. My thumbs feel as if they have fused, like legs into a tail.

“If you forget Earth, touch your thumbs together like this and press. Sure enough it’ll come back. Wherever you are, however deep in Ingo you travel, you can’t lose what’s deep inside you,” says Granny Carne.

The pressure is released. I let my hands drop to my sides. The Sadie in my head vanishes. The real Sadie is watching me with scared, questioning eyes.

“I’ll take your Sadie with me now,” says Granny Carne. “Best I do that. As for your mother, you’ll find a way. A Call with as much power over the pair of you as that, it’ll make its own path through your lives. You and Conor have good brains between you. I won’t wait for that tea now, my girl, I’ll be on my way.”

“But, Granny Carne…” I can’t believe she’s just going to go like that. I’d expected her to stand in our way, as she did in the lane long ago when she stood between me and Ingo and wouldn’t let me go. But now she’s stepping aside.

Granny Carne has her hand on Sadie’s collar, steadying her. Objections whirl in my head. I’ve got to stop her going – why won’t Conor stop her?

“But what about Sadie’s food bowl – her food – and there’s her lead—”

“Sadie and I can manage. Say your goodbyes, Sapphire.”

I kneel down at Sadie’s side. There is a shaved place in her coat where the vet put in the stitches. The gash went deep. The vet said he’d never seen a wound from a gull as bad as that. There is still a faint smell of antiseptic. I don’t ever, ever want Sadie to be hurt like that again. What if the gulls had gone for her eyes?

“You’ll be safe with Granny Carne, won’t you?” I whisper. Sadie’s beautiful shining golden coat is a blur. I swallow. I don’t put my arms around her body in case I touch her wound. Instead I rub my face against her soft, cold nose. “Goodbye, Sadie darling,” I say, keeping my voice as steady as I can. “You’ll be fine. Granny Carne will look after you. Be good now.”

Sadie doesn’t make a sound. She pushes her nose into my cheek. She knows what’s happening. I feel terrible. It would be better if she protested.

“I love you, Sadie,” I whisper. “Don’t forget.”

I stand up again. I want Granny Carne to take Sadie away now, quickly, before I have time to think about it. Granny Carne seems to understand. She moves to the door and opens it. “There’s no gulls now,” she reassures Sadie. She bends down and slips her hand though Sadie’s collar reassuringly, then says over her shoulder to Conor, “Your mother has a second cousin somewhere upcountry, Plymouth way. Could be it’s time for you and Sapphire to pay a visit there, with your half term holiday coming. Anyone in the village who asks, that’s where I’ll tell them you are.”

One moment an old woman is looking at us over her shoulder, the next moment her outline blurs and trembles. I see a young, strong woman with ropes of gleaming earth-coloured hair. The outline shimmers and vanishes. I see an owl with fierce, unblinking eyes. Its wings are spread, ready to fly off into the dark. The owl fades. Only its eyes remain, deep in Granny Carne’s weather-beaten face.

The wind blows. The door bangs. Granny Carne is gone.

At first the day went on quite normally. We went up to Jack’s, and his mum made one of her classic dinners with roast beef, Yorkshire puddings and what she calls roast-pan gravy. Jack’s dad talked endlessly about whether he would get a government grant for re-laying a stretch of Cornish hedge. Jack kept trying to change the subject. He thinks his dad is extremely boring most of the time, but I didn’t mind. Hedging is as good to talk about as anything when there’s a storm raging in your mind.

We’re back at the cottage now, and it’s almost ten o’ clock, the time when Mum usually calls on a Sunday. But it’s not Sunday for her, it’s already Monday morning. While we are still enjoying the last hours of the weekend, Mum is in a world that’s going back to work.