The Crossing of Ingo Read Online Free Page A

decide to believe that she’s agreeing with me. “Walk, then be good at home,” I repeat firmly.
    I open the door, cross the garden, lift the latch of the gate and kick it where it sticks. Sadie bounds through. “Wait, girl.”
    I look up at the sky. It’s a perfect October day. You would think it was still summer, except that the sun is lower in the skyand there’s a clear, tingling taste in the breeze. A few bronze leaves stir on the rowan tree by our door. I’ll swim without my wetsuit today. The sea still has most of the summer’s warmth in it.
    At that moment there’s a slash in the air above my head. Something hurtles past me, raking my hair with its claws. I flinch and throw my hands up to protect my face. The gull squawks loudly as it soars back into the sky.
    “Conor! One of those gulls went for me again.”
    Conor comes to the door and squints up at the roof. A second gull sits squat by the chimney, watching us with its hard yellow eye. The first gull wheels round from its attack, glides back to the cottage roof with one powerful stroke and alights, folding its wings. I brace myself in case it dives again. It gives a mocking screech, but stays up on the roof.
    “Every time we go out of the house, they’re waiting.”
    “I know,” says Conor.
    “I’m worried about Sadie. Mary Thomas’s cat had to have ten stitches in its back. It was the worst gash from a gull the vet had ever seen. Do you think a gull would attack a dog as big as Sadie?”
    “They’re territorial,” says Conor.
    “Only when they’re nesting. They can’t be still nesting at this time of year. It’s too late.”
    The gulls shriek, as if they’re laughing at us. A third gull circles way above the roof, like a police helicopter over the scene of a crime.
    “They never used to settle on the roof like this,” Conor says.
    “No. It’s only since Mum and Roger left.” As soon as I’ve said the words, I want to call them back. The gulls frighten me. They watch the human world, and report back to Ingo. I remember how one of them slashed my hand down by the cove. I thought then that it was one of Ervys’s spies.
    Conor flaps his arms and shouts at the gulls. “Go on, get out of it!” They squawk back in derision. Sadie barks furiously, but the gulls take no notice of her.
    “I’ll get the ladder,” says Conor. “I’m going to check if there
is
a nest up there.”
    “No, don’t, Conor!” If he’s up the ladder and the gulls attack him, he’ll have no chance. He’ll have to put up his hands to shield his face, and then the gulls will get him off balance. In my head I see Conor slowly toppling backwards. “Mum’ll kill me if you fall off the ladder.”
    The gulls screech again, as if they’re imitating me. Slowly, in their own time, they take off from the roof. They wheel above us, mocking our Earth-bound anger with them, and then they take aim at the horizon and fly straight out to sea. They are as sleek as rockets homing in on a target.
    “Imagine being able to do that,” I say, shading my eyes and squinting after them. “They can go from one world to another whenever they want.”
    But Conor’s not listening. “Saph, look. They
are
building a nest. Look up there, by the chimney.”
    “But it’s the wrong time of year.”
    “They’re building it, all the same. I wonder
why.”
    “I don’t like them. They patrol that roof like prison guards. Every time we come out or go in, they’re watching.”
    “That’s crazy, Saph. They’re just birds.”
    “Sadie!
Sadie!”
I shout. She’s gone into the ditch again. It’s always full of rich, smelly mud, even when there hasn’t been rain for weeks. She’s definitely going to need a bath now. “Sadie, you bad girl.”
    But I’m glad really. Bathing Sadie will stop me thinking about the gulls. I fetch her zinc bath and lay it on the gravel. I fill saucepans with water and put them on the stove to warm while Conor unwinds the hose. Sadie stands watching,