The Tide Knot by Helen Dunmore Read Free Book Online Page B

to snap back when I realize that Faro is sharp because he is hurt. He offered to take me to his teacher, and I refused. The offer must have been important to him.
      Faro has never spoken to me about his father or his mother.
      Perhaps he has no parents, and this teacher means a great deal to him.
      “I’m sorry, Faro. I’d like to meet your teacher very much,” I say, “but I can’t tonight, not when I’ve left Sadie tied up.”
      “Hm,” says Faro, sounding a little mollified by my apology. “We’ll see. Saldowr is not like a tame dog, Sapphire. You can’t leave him tied up and return when you feel like it.”  
      I stumble out of the water, dripping wet, into the chill of the night. The sea is slapping up to the very top step. As I watch, another wave pounces, and the steps are completely submerged.  
      I shiver again, uncontrollably. Quick, quick, I must get home. My fingers shake violently as I untie Sadie. She presses against me, her body warm against mine, and her rough tongue licks my hands. But Sadie is trembling too.
      She’s afraid. Cold makes my voice stammer as I try to reassure her.
      “I’m s-s-s-sorry I left you s-s-such a long time….I didn’t mean to s-s-scare you, Sadie….Please, Sadie darling, stop shaking like that.”
      I slide my key into the front door lock, creep up the stairs, and dive into the bathroom. I strip off my wet clothes, jump into the shower, and turn it on full . The hot water prickles like needles on my cold skin. I stand there, eyes shut, soaking up the steamy heat. In Ingo I’m never cold. I’ll put my clothes in the washing machine, stuff my trainers with newspaper, and leave them by the boiler so that they’re dry by morning—
      “Sapphy! Sapphire! Is that you in there?”
      “Yes, Mum!”
      “You were quick. I hope Sadie got a proper walk. Don’t use all the hot water now.”
      I was quick, was I? So Faro was right. Time is hardly moving at all in Ingo tonight.
      “Out in a minute, Mum!” I call .
      The next morning I come down to find Sadie lying full length on the living room rug. Mum’s making coffee at the kitchen end of the room. She looks up quickly as I come in.
      “Sapphy, I don’t want you to worry, but Sadie doesn’t look too good.”
      “What’s the matter?”
      “I don’t know. She’s not herself.”
      I kneel beside Sadie, and she thumps her tail languidly against the floor. Her eyes are dull . Even her coat seems to have lost its shine. But she was fine last night. I’m sure she was….
      A cold feeling of dread steals into my heart, mixed with responsibility and guilt. I left Sadie tied up to a post. I went into Ingo without thinking about her. I might have been gone hours. But I wasn’t, I wasn’t. I was back almost before she had time to miss me.
      Time. Is dog time the same as human time? Maybe my absence seemed endless to Sadie. Maybe she was afraid I’d drowned. Could Sadie possibly have guessed where I was? If she sensed that I’d left her behind, along with everything in the Air, to plunge into a strange world where she couldn’t survive for more than a minute, how frightened she must have been. She must have thought I’d abandoned her.
      “Shall we go for a walk, Sadie?” I say, testing her. But she doesn’t rise to the chal enge. There’s no joyous leap to her feet, no skittering of paws on the wooden floor, no gleam of delight in her eyes. Sadie stares at me sadly, as if to say,
      “Why do you ask me now, when you know I can’t come?”
      “She’s ill , Mum. She’s really ill.” I can’t help panic breaking into my voice, even though I don’t want to alarm Sadie.
      Mum leaves the stove, comes over, and stares down at Sadie, frowning. “No, she’s not right, is she?” she says at last. “I wish Roger was here. He’d know what to do. But he’s up at Newquay today.”
      “I’ll take her to the vet.”
      “The vet? I don’t know. I don’t