Debbie Welch
I started writing for my younger daughter, who was born with one hand. Her complaint was that in children's books any character with a disability like her was either:
1. The baddy (let's face it, you thought of Captain Hook, didn't you?) with the disability used to show how evil they are
2. A sidekick used in a similar way to a pet, to show the nice side of a main character (good or bad)
3. No character other than "I Am A Person With A Disability" where everything they do relates to their disability, normally in fairly implausible ways
So I wrote a set of adventure stories about a girl, very like my daughter, who was the main character who just happened to be missing her hand. It was harder than I expected because you need to show enough times that she does do things differently to remind the reader without bashing them over their head with the information. She enjoyed it, my son enjoyed it, and my older daughter cringed (she was at that age) and refused to read it. Never mind! Two out of three isn't too bad.
Anyway, that was my first start into writing children's stories, and I found I enjoyed it. This story I started writing a couple of years ago as a totally different story, and I was working hard on it when I developed depression due to bullying at work. One of the hardest things with depression was I had no energy to do anything, and especially no imagination to continue writing.
I've now changed jobs and am getting back into writing. No, there are no characters based on the bullies, although I am tempted to use them in the future. However it's still too raw for me at the moment. I'm also not sure they have any redeeming features either, so they would be pantomime baddies. Maybe I'll just impale them on spikes at a castle gate.
On the subject of pantomimes though, I have written a couple of plays for our local youth theatre. One I cowrote which we described as "Roald Dahl's Revolting Rhymes meets the Sound of Music" and the other I wrote on my own was based on a WWII book called "Mystery at Witchend". I was delighted to get permission to do the latter one, as it hadn't really been staged before, although my children were less pleased when they were forcibly listening to WWII songs every time we went out in the car so I could choose some for them to sing. I still think one of my greatest triumphs was getting a group of twelve, mostly teenagers, to sing "roll me over, in the clover" without a giggle in sight. To be fair to them, I did change the words a little so it was less obviously suggestive but they did very well.
More about me: I'm not very interesting really. I have three children, and any Zoom calls I do are normally interrupted by the sounds of my son's budgies. They're hopefully moving outside soon. He's not so sure he wants them to because he likes to talk to them every morning and night. He tells them all one by one he loves them, which is very sweet until I say, "I love you too," which is normally answered by a humph. Anyone with teenage boys knows that sound well. He makes similar noises when I suggest a shower might be kind on the rest of the families' noses too.
So what are my qualifications in writing. The best I can do is GCSE English, I'm afraid. I did get an A, but have to admit that firstly it was the year of 100% coursework, and secondly I am pretty certain a mistake was made. Obviously I wasn't going to object, but it was thoroughly undeserved. After that I did maths, maths and a bit more maths. I can't spell - spellcheck is wonderful, if I can get the word close enough for it to guess what I mean. I do know how to use an apostrophe though. That's got everyone reading checking thoroughly through this to see if they can spot a misused one.
And what I haven't told you, but you've all guessed if you've got to the end of this: I tend to write in a stream of consciousness. I can write drivel with the best of them, and, like the average monkey, sometimes it makes some sense. Thanks for reading.
Tammy balanced on a rock with both her arms extended and let the wind buffet round her. A strand of hair stuck to her mouth, and she spat it out in disgust. She wished that she hadn’t had her hair cut so short just before their holiday; it was long enough to fly into her face, but too short to lie back, unless she put it in two tails and twelve was too old to have it in two, unless you were one of the popular girls who could get away with anything.
An extra strong gust blew her towel out like a cape and she pretended it had blown her off the rock onto the sand. She scrambled up again quickly, glancing down the beach to see if Kath had been watching.
Good! Kath was still staring at her phone. Tammy resolved that even when she was fifteen, she wouldn’t be as boring as Kath and ignore everything that was happening around her, but she was glad she hadn’t seen her. Kath had no time for the games of pretend they’d played not very long ago.
She wandered up, pushing her feet through the sand as though she was an ice skater. She resisted giving a twirl; it wouldn’t have looked very good in shorts anyway. Kath’s shorts. Too big on the waist, one pocket with a hole in, and the most stupid dark green colour that no one except Kath would have chosen. At least her t-shirt was her own, even if as soon as Kath had seen her, she’d promptly quoted, “red and green should never be seen.”
“What about poppies?” Tammy had flung back.
“They’re different,” Kath had replied.
She hadn’t explained how they were different, and Tammy suspected that she had no answer. She liked the t-shirt, so didn’t care if it went with the boring shorts. There was no one who mattered that would see it here on this little beach in the middle of nowhere.
Kath looked up as she approached.
“Go away!”
Tammy leant on the bottom of the cliff. The rocks poked into her, and she perched on the edge of Kath’s rocky seat.
“Don’t you want to do something? Come swimming?”
Kath glared. “I want to go somewhere civilised.”
“You mean with phone signals.”
“Trust Dad to pick the only place in the world where there is no internet.”
“I bet the Arctic doesn’t have Wi-Fi.”
Both Tammy and Kath turned round and glared at their younger brother, Dan. He grinned back.
“It has polar bears to eat you instead.”
Tammy decided to ignore him.
“Our family is so boring. The same beach, the same town when it rains and the same place we pick blackberries. No one else goes to the same place every year; everyone else goes abroad. Why don’t we?”
“We like it here,” Dan said.
“We’ve been here nine years,” Tammy pointed out. “You’ve never been anywhere else.”
“Who cares?” Kath poked her phone again. “Just shut up and go away.”
“We could go to our cave.” Tammy tried to make Kath smile. “You remember when we pretended it was the inside of a whale, like Jonah?”
“That wasn’t a whale,” Kath said. “It was a big fish; it says in the Bible. A whale is a mammal, not a fish. Don’t you ever listen at school?”
“It doesn’t matter anyway, we pretended it…”
“Let’s find dragons.” Dan pretended to growl.
“Yes, Kath we could…” Tammy stopped as Kath glared at her. “Not your stupid dragons again. Everyone knows dragons don’t exist.”
“They do in the cave,” Dan argued, and Kath rolled her eyes.
“Be sensible for once.”
“He’s just being his normal annoying self,” Tammy said. “Come on, Kath, let’s ask Mum.”
“The tide’s coming up.” She pointed down the beach. “Mum won’t let you go round the cliff.”
“It’s got hours,” Tammy stared at the water that was nearly up to the rock she’d been standing on and corrected herself. “An hour at least before it’s too high. I’m going to ask.”
“Mum won’t let Dan. He’s too little.”
“Am not!”
Tammy ran over to the blue tent where Mum sat with a sketchpad on her knee. It was strange how well Mum could draw when none of the rest of them could make a stickman look more like a person than a tree. She paused to look at the sketch and compared it with Dad’s tall figure at the top of the cliff, currently staring through binoculars at the fork-tailed bird wheeling above him. Even his floppy hat seemed to be admiring it.
“Can I go round to our cave?” Tammy tried to stand where Mum wouldn’t be able to see how near the base of the cliff the tide was flowing. “I just want to see it, and then I’ll come back.”
“The tide’s coming up.”
Bother, she had noticed.
“I won’t be long,” Tammy pleaded.
“We’re going to hunt for dragons.”
Tammy turned round and glared. “No, we’re not. I am going, without you. Mum?”
“I’m coming too. I want to come…”
“Not you, Dan. You’re too little to go on your own.”
Tammy smirked as they argued. Sometimes there were advantages in being older. It was more often she was too old with Kath and too young with Dan. Maybe this time she’d get away with it.
Being the middle wasn’t fair. Kath had always done it first so it wasn’t interesting and Dan did it last so was special. Kath was brave, and Dan was meant to be clever that Tammy felt squeezed in the middle. She’d admit Kath was braver than her; she’d never noticed Dan was that special.
She turned back to ask Mum again in time to see Mum hand a something red to Dan.
“That’s my KitKat!”
“He’s hungry.” Mum bent down to her sketchpad again.
She always said that. Funny he wasn’t hungry when there wasn’t anything nice to eat only when there was chocolate biscuits or cake.
“You said we had one each,” Tammy persisted. “And I hadn’t had mine. It’s not fair.”
Mum didn’t respond but Dan stuck out his tongue. A surge of anger rose in Tammy’s chest. She’d left it for later for a treat at the end of the day. It was hers! She spun round and ran towards the base of the cliff. She’d go to the cave on her own.
She paused at the corner of the cliff and looked back. No one was looking at her, and feelings swirled round her head. They didn’t even care if she drowned or had to be rescued by a passing boat. She’d show them. Let them worry about her.
She rounded the edge of the cliff, and her ears fizzed with the noise of the waves echoing off the cliffs either side. There was no one in this little bay, which wasn’t really surprising, because it was only a narrow strip before the next cliff stuck further into the sea. They’d explored the bay thoroughly about six years ago and found the cave. Their cave, which they’d played in every day when the tide was far enough down for them to get round the cliff.
Kath once nearly got trapped by the tide. She’d tried wading back and a big wave had knocked her off her feet, and Tammy remembered that dreadful moment when she thought Kath had gone for ever. Kath had laughed at her and told her she was a baby for being scared, but none of them had risked the tide after that. They’d checked and there was no way up the cliff, so if the tide did come up then they’d be trapped until it went down again.
She put a stick in the sand so she could see from the cave when the tide would be washing the base of the cliff. With a final glance round to check she was alone, she walked up the bay to the entrance of the cave.
Tammy paused at the cave’s entrance and tapped at the side three times in the secret knock they’d had. Dan had said it was to allow for the dragon to fly away, but Tammy preferred to think that they were asking permission from the cave to enter.
The cave’s round entrance pulled at her memory, reminding her of all the fun they’d had when they had played together. Her chest ached; they never had fun anymore. Kath was too old and boring and never came off her phone, and Dan was silly. He spoilt everything.
The light flickered as though a cloud had passed in front of the sun and something caught her eye. Something blue.
“Go away, Dan!” she shouted. “You’re not allowed here on your own.”
“You’re not either!” He came up to the cave and waved a stick towards her. “Mum said you aren’t.”
“I’m bigger than you.”
“Not much.”
That hurt. He was nearly as tall as her now and sometimes people thought they were twins, which was just insulting.
“Older then.”
He scowled and changed the subject.
“I want to look for dragons with you.”
Tammy turned away from him. “Can’t you ever think of anything sensible? Go away!”
He took a step towards the cave, and Tammy stretched out her arms to stop him. He’d never try and push past her; he never did.
“I don’t want to play with you either!” He turned and stomped up the bay towards the place where the cliffs joined in a sharp peak. “I bet my dragons are over here.”
Tammy watched him go. He’d get bored soon and go back to Mum. Now she had the cave to herself, she could check it out.
Nothing had changed, and its familiarity wrapped itself round Tammy like a comforting hug. She dipped her fingers into the never-dry rockpool just inside. They’d agreed that it was magic when they first came here, as the sea did not get up high enough to refill it. A shrimp darted away from her fingers, and the water sparkled in the light. She sucked the water off her fingers, crinkling her nose at the salty taste.
She closed her eyes and blinked, letting them get used to the dark. She shut and opened them again, looking around as her eyes adjusted. There was her ‘seat’. No one had ever contested her ownership, same as they hadn’t contested Kath’s place by the door and Dan’s pile of stones, which he’d called his ‘dragon treasure’. He’d often sworn he heard the dragon flying away as they arrived, and they’d pretend to hear too. It was a place where imagination was easy.
Her seat was a flat rock. It was cool, but not cold, and smooth, unlike the rest of the rocks, and sloped just enough to be comfortable without sliding off. It was good to sit on and read, or have a picnic, or just watch the people walking past. She sat on it. All she could see was the cliff opposite and hear soft waves breaking on the sand. It was as though she was on a desert island.
She muttered to herself, pretending she was talking to someone sympathetic.
“Family holidays are rubbish when you have to share a bedroom. Just because Kath’s older, it doesn’t mean that she should be the only one to say, ‘put the light out’, ‘be quiet’ and ‘tidy your things away’. It’s not fair.” She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “Dan always gets his own bedroom. That’s not fair either. He always gets what he wants.”
Part of her mind told her she wasn’t being fair. The remainder told her she was right. She listened to the remainder.
“I wish I had another family,” she whispered to the imaginary listener. “They’d not notice if I ran away. They’d probably be pleased. Kath can have the bedroom to herself, and Mum will give Dan all my food.”
The light flickered as though something had passed in front of the sun and she screwed her eyes up to stare.
“Tam-my!”
She froze for a moment, then her face heated up. He’d come to jeer at her.
“Go away, Dan!”
She stalked back into the cave. She’d stay there until he’d gone. Dan had no patience; he’d be running back to tell everyone she was sulking. If she counted to a hundred, he’d have gone by the time she came out again.
“One, two, three...” She peeped over her shoulder to see if he had gone. “… twenty-six, twenty-seven…” It was quiet in the cave. She couldn’t even hear the sea now. It was almost like she was in a separate world. “… Sixty-four, sixty-five…”
She blinked. It was odd, but the light flickered like a candle flame. She screwed her eyes up as it darkened again.
“… Eighty-seven, eighty-eight…”
Her ears were filled with a rushing noise, and her voice slurred. She stopped at the sound of a stone falling at the back of the cave. She turned round, eyes searching the blackness. There wasn’t anything there to make a noise, was there? Maybe she ought to go back; Mum would be worrying.
Each step felt like her legs were caught in sand, and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The cave was dark, and she couldn’t see the entrance. Her chest tightened with panic and head span.
“Dan!” she tried to call, but it was muffled, like shouting into a strong wind.
The entrance lit up again, flickering like her phone screen after Dan had dropped it in water. She strained at invisible ropes, pulling until she reached the entrance, where they held her tight. The light in front of her flickered; each flicker showing a different picture. First the bay was filled with water, then it was empty and there was Dan standing on a rock as the sea splashed round him. He waved the stick above his head.
“Dan!” she shrieked. “That was my stick!”
Dan’s movements froze as a bigger than normal wave crashed into his legs, and he fell backwards, disappearing under the water. Tammy’s chest tightened as if the flood had hit her too, as she saw the waves running up the beach.
“Dan, get up!” It was like shouting into the wind.
A cold hand gripped her throat and she swallowed hard. The light dulled like night then flickered like lightning and there was no sign of Dan.
Fear sent power into her limbs, giving strength to push against the forces holding her, and suddenly she moved, no longer in slow motion. What had happened? Where was Dan? Her heart leapt up and suffocated her throat. There was something wrong. Why had she left him? It was her fault.
She raced down to the water, calling Dan’s name. She ran round the cliff, with the water flowing round her knees, looking for the reassuring figures of her family. She gave a gasp and sat down, her legs suddenly giving way. Gone were the people on the beach. Where were Mum, Dad, and everyone else?
But more; it wasn’t the same beach she had left behind.
Chapter 2
She screwed her eyes shut with a hope that when she opened them again everything would be back to normal.
It wasn’t.
Tammy gazed round the beach. It curved in a perfect crescent moon shape with the waves lapping gently at the shore. At the far end the rocks projected outwards into the sea, and she followed the line of the rocks with her eyes. That was as she remembered. But out, in the deep water, there floated a huge ship. A ship with sails set as though it had sailed through a hundred years or more.
Along the beach, everything had changed. The gate to the cliff path, the cliff path itself, the windshields, the upturned boat at the far end were all gone. There was nothing left of her beach at all. A tall cliff rose from the beach and trees stood tall and sentry-like along the edge, creating a thick green wall and the heat beat down from an unclouded sun.
A shiver went down her spine. What had happened? It was a dream. It had to be a dream. Maybe she’d wake and find it was all back to normal. Maybe the cave curved round into a different bay, but she had to help Dan. Kath said someone could drown in an inch of water. Why hadn’t he stood up again; had he hit his head?
She swallowed a lump in her throat and began to run back to the cave. Maybe if she went back in it would be obvious what was wrong. Perhaps there were two exits or something?
The entrance opened up in front of her. She sniffed, and the smell of smoke teased her. There couldn’t be a fire. She knew the cave. She’d just come out of it. There couldn’t possibly be anything bigger than a sandhopper or she’d have seen it.
A misty vapour, like a little cloud, caught the light in a swirling kind of way and drifted past her head.
She blinked. Had that come from the cave? She shook her head and walked in, relieved to find the familiar shape of the cave. There in the corner was the pile of ‘dragon treasure’ that Dan had collected. It was amazing that it was still there, and the light made the top stone almost glow. Maybe she could give it to Dan to say sorry. She slipped it into her pocket. It was white and smooth, fitting comfortably in the palm of her hand as she rubbed a finger across it.
A huge growl, coming from the back of the cave, and something moved, coming towards her. She could see its wings flapping, a flash of light and another growl echoed around the cave.
