Thomas nodded. “That’s a good idea. And I think I’ll have a sleep, after that delicious lunch. What a shame there’s so much of it left over.”
Betty stood up and picked up her new shoes. She walked over to tell Zelda, who gave Thomas a sideways glance. “Tell me we’re not being sent away because of His Royal Highness?” She sighed.
“No, of course not. We can shelter from the sun for a while. Martha’s shoulders are looking a bit fiery. Put some sun cream on,” she said, but Martha stood up and began to run towards the teardrop-shaped hollow.
The sand on the floor of the cave was cool and the walls were clammy. Zelda and Martha took it in turns to yodel, their voices booming around inside. At the back of the cave there was a gap in the rocks, a vertical, person-sized slit.
“Can we go through there?” Martha pointed.
“Let’s just sit down, and keep our clothes nice and clean,” Betty said. She had been through the gap once with a local boy, Daniel McLean. She still remembered his fingers, warm through the thinness of her cotton shirt. They’d held hands in the darkness and kissed, her first time. Reaching up, she pressed her fingers to her lips and held them there. Daniel was the opposite to Thomas. He was sensitive, caring and her own age. She still missed him.
“We can try to squeeze through.” Zelda took off her headscarf and sunglasses, then stuffed them into her pocket. “I’m ready for action if you are.”
Martha tugged on Betty’s hand. “Come on, Mum.”
Thoughts of Daniel disappeared as Betty looked out at her husband in his deck chair. From the way his hands had fallen to his sides, she could tell he was asleep. His newspaper had dropped to the ground and Lilian played by his feet. “It’s okay, you go ahead,” she said. “I’ll stay here.”
“What for?” In the dimness of the cave, Zelda’s eyes squinted. “So Thomas can keep an eye on you?”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Mum,” Betty said, moving her hand away from Martha’s. “I think he’s asleep, and I need to watch Lilian.”
Zelda climbed up the rocks with bare feet. There was a flash of turquoise as her skirt disappeared through the gap, then her hand reappeared in a playful claw. “Grrr.”
Martha followed her. She giggled and grabbed hold of her fingers. “Bye, Mum,” she said as she vanished, too.
Betty idled around, walking in small circles, tracing her toes over shells and shingle. After a couple of minutes, she heard a big splash and then another. Raising herself up onto her tiptoes, she called out, “What’s going on back there?” She listened out for a reply, but all she could hear was splashing and laughter. She stepped up onto a rock and poked her head into the gap, her eyes adjusting to the gloominess. “Helloooo.”
Her mother and daughter sat in a pool of shallow water. Their skirts swirled as Martha hit the water with her palms and Zelda flicked back.
Betty smiled but then felt it slip. Her mother and daughter were so close to each other. She’d noticed that if Zelda was around, Martha ran to her first, if she skinned her knee or wanted to share a book. She also saw that Thomas and Lilian had formed a two-person mutual fan club.
Betty was the odd one out.
She shivered as a drop of water fell onto her shoulder from the roof of the cave. What a silly thought, she told herself. It must be the heat.
“Tell me a story,” Zelda asked Martha. “I want one about jewels, or a mermaid.”
“You tell me one,” Martha flipped her wrist, splashing her nana’s chest.
“No, you tell me.” Zelda used both hands to push the sea in her granddaughter’s direction.
Martha’s laughter ricocheted and they both stood up, their dresses clinging, soaking, to their thighs.
Betty cupped her hand to her mouth. “Don’t get too wet in there,” she called, but they were only interested in each other. She didn’t usually feel jealous, but as she watched her mother and daughter, it crept over her now like winter frost across a window.
She glanced outside at the beach, watching as Lilian stood up and skipped towards the cave. “Daddy’s fast asleep,” she said when she arrived. “What shall we do now, Mummy?”
Betty took her hand. “What do you want to do, darling?”
“The fair. Let’s go to the funfair.”
Betty shook her head. “Sorry,” she started. “Daddy says we can’t go there.”
“But he’s asleep.”
Betty chewed her lip as she pondered this. Thomas had only been asleep for a few minutes. He’d complained about being tired after a busy week at work. She had enough time to take the girls, and her mother, for a quick visit. If he woke up, she would say they’d been for a walk.
“Pleeeease, Mummy.”
Betty scratched her neck. Then Martha and Zelda’s laughter echoed around inside the cave, and the envious feeling crawled over her again.
This could be a chance for the four of them to spend time together on her birthday, her original plan. She could escape the constant tension between her mum and husband.
If she swore them to secrecy, she could keep everyone happy.
And with that thought, Betty made a decision.
She angled her face towards the slit in the rocks again and shouted. “Okay, let’s go to the funfair. You can tell your story on the way, Martha, and dry off your clothes.”
She listened as the laughter stopped. “Dad said we can’t go,” Martha hollered back.
“Oh, that’s okay,” Betty called out, nonchalantly. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Again, she had to wait for the reply.
“Okay,” Martha said. “We’ll come back out.”
Betty took Lilian’s hand, and Zelda held Martha’s. They walked out of the cave and across the sand, toward the mermaid statue, and Martha told her story.
The Fisherman and the Mermaid
Each day at sunrise, a lonely mermaid watched as a handsome fisherman loaded lobster pots into his boat. Even though she loved the sea, and the fish, and her friends, the mermaid wished that she could be with the fisherman instead. He looked strong and caring, and his life on shore seemed idyllic.
One day, a silvery sea lion appeared on a rock beside her, as she combed her hair. In his flipper was a large cone-shaped shell. “If you blow into this shell,” he said, “it will allow you to grow legs so you can go ashore. You can meet your fisherman. However, you won’t ever be able to return to the sea.”
For six days and six nights, the mermaid swam up and down the shore. She watched the fisherman carry out his empty lobster pots to the boat, and watched as he brought them back again, with orange claws poking through.
On the seventh day, the mermaid decided that she’d had enough of the sea and she yearned for something different. She wanted to be with the fisherman. So, she took hold of the shell and blew into it. Then she closed her eyes and everything fell dark.
She woke on the sand, with the sun shining into her eyes, and she felt strange because her tail no longer flicked. In its place were two feet with pretty toes. And the fisherman stood, tall, above her. He held out his hand to help her to stand up, and it was difficult because she’d never done it before.
He led her to his hut on the beach, where he read stories to her, about the sea, until she felt stronger. However, whenever he asked where she came from, she made up a story. She didn’t tell him that she once lived in the sea.
Soon, the fisherman and the mermaid fell in love and they had a baby together. But when their little girl was born, she had a fish’s scaly tail.
“I can’t understand it.” The fisherman scratched his head.
“Me neither,” the mermaid lied and cried. “What can we do?”
The mermaid and the fisherman talked for many nights until they reached a decision. They would set the baby free in the sea. They were very sad but the baby was unhappy in the hut and her eyes lit up when she saw the waves.
As soon as the fisherman and the mermaid lowered her into the water, a smile fell on the baby’s lips and she swam away.
“She’ll visit us each day, don’t worry,” the mermaid told the fisherman, as she held his hand tightly.
But they never saw their daughter again. And, although the mermaid loved her husband with all her heart, she wished that she hadn’t met him, because she had been happy as she was.