The Crossing of Ingo by Helen Dunmore Read Free Book Online Page B

say. Mum’s face relaxes.
    “As long as you’re both well and happy.”
    “We had Rainbow and Patrick round last night,” says Conor with apparent casualness. Mum looks even happier. She likes Rainbow and Patrick more than any of our friends. She senses that Rainbow is like her, that’s what I think. Someone who will anchor us to Earth. And Patrick’s ambition to become a doctor is exactly the ambition Mum would love me to have. I’m sorry, Mum, but it’s never going to happen.
    A big trip north, into the bush …
Poisonous spiders, king cobras, crocodiles … “Be careful up there, Mum. Crocodiles are really cunning. They use their tails as levers to spring out of the waterand get you. If a croc chases you, you have to run in zigzags because that confuses them. And there’s loads of snakes in the bush too. You can’t walk around in flip-flops.”
    Mum is laughing. “Is this my daughter talking, or is it my mum?”
    “I’m serious, Mum.”
    “I’m sorry, Sapphy, I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”
    Mum seems so real that I feel I could put my hand through the screen and touch her face. But I can’t, and in a minute her screen image will disappear. People get lost in the bush. They die because there’s no water. I take a deep breath. Mum will be with Roger, who probably knows how to dig a bore hole if need be, and kill a fighting cobra with one karate chop. Mum will be fine. What a role reversal. Mum spends her life worrying about us, and now I’m panicking about her.
    “We’ll be completely safe,” says Mum earnestly. “Roger’s mate knows the bush. He wouldn’t take tourists anywhere dangerous.”
    But Mum knows, as I do, that nowhere in the world is ever completely safe. Your life can change in the blink of an eye, on a calm and beautiful Midsummer night. You lose what you love while you think it is still safe beside you.
    “I know, Mum,” I say. “You’ll have a great time.”
    Mum smiles back, reassuring and reassured. “I know I can trust you two – to take care of everything,” she says, looking at Conor. He looks straight back.
    “I’ll look after Saph, Mum, don’t worry.”
    “And I’ll look after Conor’s underpants.”
    “Is Sadie all right?” asks Mum quickly.
    “She’s fine.” I nearly add,
She’s just in the kitchen,
but pull myself back. First rule of deception:
Never lie when you don’t have to.
    “I’m so glad you’ve got Sadie. A dog in the house is good protection.”
    “For God’s sake, Mum,” says Conor, “you sound like the mum in that film of Peter Pan.” I nearly laugh, thinking of Sadie padding round the house like Nana, pulling us back from Ingo by the seat of our pyjamas. I know why Conor sounds sharp. Guilt. He’s not exactly lying to Mum, but he’s certainly misleading her. Mum, however, doesn’t realise any of this. She thinks that Conor’s just cracking a joke, and she laughs with her new Australian lightheartedness.
    “Don’t go flying out of any windows,” she says.
    “We won’t,” I say, looking Mum in the eye. Just for a second I feel a surge of guilt, as if I’m the parent lying to her child for its own good, so that the child won’t be afraid. The mark of the Call must be blazing across my face. Doesn’t Mum see? Can’t she guess?
    But no. Mum notices nothing, and we say goodbye.

CHAPTER FOUR
    C onor lifts the globe from its place at the back of our living room’s deep windowsill. He pushes it with one finger so the globe turns a slow circle on its stand. The land is dark brown, with the names of countries written in close, spidery writing. The oceans must have been deep blue once but they have faded and now they are a pale blue-brown.
The Indian Ocean … The Northwest Passage …
    I used to trace the names with my finger when I first learned to read. They were the oceans Dad used to talk about when he said, “One day, Sapphy, I’ll take you to see the world. We’ll cross the five oceans. North Atlantic, South