The miners carried pick axes and hard hats and left for the old coal seam that stretched under the seabed to dig for the odd bucket or two that would light their fires and cookers. Anymore would be weighed and bagged for the monthly tribute.
June and May decided to scour the cliff face for Jurassic fossils uncovered by the storm and Bastian tagged along. The finds were often displayed in church to remind forgetful citizens that entire species could become extinct.
June was chipping away at the cliff with her small brass hammer that had a rounded nose at one end and a fine point at the other. May was hanging beside her and they both wore dungarees and a harness. Bastian checked the ropes wrapped around the palm trees further back. Sea-gulls circled overhead before heading out to sea, followed by the vultures.
‘Pull me up,’ May shouted to Bastian.
She placed her basket on the edge of the cliff before scrambling over.
‘I found me this fossilised jellyfish,’ she announced smiling, before removing her harness just feet from the drop.
A strong gust of wind would have carried her back over the edge.
‘Then let’s see if I can find a pterodactyl,’ said Harriet, joining them in blue overalls with a sunflower in her hair.
Her rope was secured around the sturdy stump of a palm tree with a monkey sunbathing on top.
‘Make sure you don’t go disturbing them there birds’ nests,’ said May before Harriet abseiled down the cliff face.
Bastian and May were sitting on the ground eating fried crickets when a rope raced by faster than any snake. The scream was short before someone hit the ground.
May ran towards the cliff edge and looked over.
‘Mum,’ she shouted, before bursting into tears.
‘Pull me up,’ shouted Harriet, with the broken body of June motionless on the rocks beneath her.
‘The rope split,’ said Malthus, appearing from the trees. ‘Always check your equipment.’
‘She’s a goner,’ shouted the beachcomber to the crowd now gathered on the cliff.
May lifted her head, dried her eyes and threw back her hair.
‘Let’s go kite-flying,’ she said. ‘I want to feel the sun on my back and the wind in my hair. It’s wonderful to be alive, Bastian.’
They walked to the shop on the high street and hired two four-foot kites for the afternoon. Private ownership was banned to prevent kite fighting, signalling by poachers, and congestion in the skies.
On the beach, the ocean wind was stable with no up and down drafts and they released their kites made of silk and bamboo to the sky. May held a single line to a diamond shaped kite with a long tail and Bastian had a delta kite with two lines. When he pulled right the kite turned right, and when he pulled left it turned left. His kite had a butterfly pattern with two large eyes whilst May’s was a rainbow.
They ran across the beach most of the day in the sprays of sea foam that lapped at their feet and occasionally bumping into one another. But their joy came to an abrupt end when an orange box kite with two stacked sections entangled its line with Bastian’s and both kites crashed to the beach with the tide washing over them and the butterfly drowned.
‘Sorry,’ said Holroyd.
‘It doesn’t matter, we were just going,’ said Bastian.
Chapter Twenty-Five
May had stayed the night at Bastian’s one bedroomed cottage and they were both still yawning in the morning air as they trudged across the village common. Clouds blocked the sun and lowered the temperature.
‘Let’s get a move on,’ he said, ‘otherwise we’ll miss them.’
But he would miss them for a lot longer than just today. It was Jeremiah and Eliza’s last walk through the village.
‘They really want me to come along?’ asked May.
‘They want to see my sweetheart. We’re the new generation.’
‘Okay.’
‘Besides, Mandrake’s taking Rebekah and Mum can’t stand her,’ said Bastian. ‘Look, there they are, let’s go and say hello.’
‘Glad you could make it,’ said Jeremiah to Bastian.
‘That dress looks lovely on you, my dear,’ said Eliza to May.
She hadn’t complemented Rebekah; indeed, she had barely acknowledged her presence.
‘Let me light your pipe,’ said Rebekah, striking a match for Jeremiah and holding it away from the warm sea-breeze.
‘Make the most of it, Dad,’ said Mandrake. ‘No tobacco smoking in Scotland, only cannabis and opium.’
‘You trying to cheer me up?’
They were walking across the cliffs when Eliza suddenly stumbled.
‘Are you okay, Mum?’ asked Bastian.
‘My knees, but don’t worry I’ll use a walking-frame in Scotland.’
The opium that made Jeremiah sick was giving her welcome pain relief but not reducing the swelling that affected her gait.
‘And swim as much as you can in the pools,’ said Rebekah. ‘Build up the muscles around your knees.’
‘This seems a good a place as any,’ said Jeremiah, and they all stopped.
‘Do you remember, old man,’ said Eliza, ‘we used to bring the kids here on picnics.’
Mandrake and Rebekah would have brought their own children for the family goodbye but knew they’d be a source of irritation for Eliza, a thorn in her side.
Bastian collected some rocks, placed them on the ground, and made a small circular hearth. Mandrake unzipped the jaguar skin shoulder-bag Jeremiah had promised to leave him and removed two old photo albums.
Less photos were taken these days but everyone was allowed one new roll of film every five years. The digital age was dead, along with android phones and computers.
‘Anyone want a last look?’ asked Jeremiah.
No one answered and Bastian sprinkled the lighter fuel Nabulus had given him for the occasion onto the albums.
‘Any last words, Mum?’ asked Mandrake striking a match.
‘I wish I could stay,’ she said, as the smoke drifted inland and tears rolled down her face
‘Come on, old girl,’ said Jeremiah, putting an arm around her. ‘We’ve had our time here in the village and everything comes to pass. That’s the way it’s always been, always
