21. Henry
21
HENRY
H enry had noticed there was a gap in the hedge at the back of Christopher’s garden by the shed. It backed onto woodland and so he’d followed a narrow path through the trees at the back of the garden and found a small clearing. There, at the centre, was a hole. It was about the size of an access hole over a drain and looked like the surface had just given way.
If it was some sort of sinkhole and Bobby had fallen into it, Henry had no idea what the dog’s chances would be. He felt sick to his stomach and the back of his throat burned with bile. Shining the torch on his phone over the hole, he peered into it, but it was hard to see clearly with the rain lashing down and the wind blowing things around.
He looked at his phone screen, wanting to check if Rosa was OK, but he had no signal so he’d have to wait until he could get back there. Either that or he could check on her now and then come back and?—
Wait. What was that?
He held his breath and listened and when the wind died down a little, he could hear it again.
Whimpering.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and leant over the hole, then shouted, ‘Bobby! Hey boy!’
A bark came in reply.
‘Bobby! Don’t worry, I’m coming for you!’
He had no choice. He couldn’t leave the small dog, Christopher’s entire world, trapped underground. The poor dog would be terrified, and anything could happen to him if Henry didn’t get him out.
‘I’m coming boy!’ He shouted into the hole.
He crouched down on the ground and lowered his legs into the hole, then he slid into it, still holding his phone and asking the universe to help him out here. If he got stuck too, then at least Bobby would have some company.
He slid through the small opening and landed on his feet in a space the width of a phone box. Because the space was barely five feet high, he had to bend over, but he shone his torch around and saw that it was part of a tunnel. The smell of wet wood, rotting seaweed and old tides enveloped him and he wretched at its strength.
‘Bobby?’ he called out, and a bark rewarded him. ‘Where are you?’
The bark came again, so he followed the noise along the tunnel until he came to what he realised was a cave. And there, trembling in a corner, was the little dog.
‘Come here, boy,’ he whispered, crouching down.
Bobby whimpered, so he went closer and held out a hand. Bobby sniffed it then wagged his little tail, but he was clearly scared by what had happened and freezing cold. Henry lifted him tenderly, unzipped his jacket and tucked Bobby inside it, then zipped it up again. At least this way Bobby would have the benefit of Henry’s body heat and hopefully feel more secure.
Henry shone the phone torch around with one hand while supporting Bobby with the other and he realised he was in an old smugglers’ cave. He had heard rumours of smugglers’ tunnels beneath many coastal areas of Cornwall, but he’d never been in one before, and he was fascinated.
However, he reminded himself; it was time to get back to Christopher and then to Rosa. He could always return to the cave another time and have a good look around.
As he made his way back, he stumbled once when he stepped on something. He was about to kick it out of the way when he realised it was a small bag, so he picked it up and shone the light on it. It looked like it could contain something of interest, so he tucked it into his pocket and carried on, making his way back to the opening in the ground behind Christopher’s home. The tunnel was narrow, and the phone light was fading, so he suspected the battery was running low, but it held until he reached the opening. He climbed out, taking care not to squash Bobby on the way.
When he was above ground again, he sucked in the fresh air, grateful to feel the rain on his skin and the wind buffeting him from side to side. He could still smell the dank earth of the tunnel and cave, still feel the chill in his bones from being down there, but Bobby was safe and he needed to get him warm and dry.
He hurried along the garden and through the back door, put the phone on the table and kicked off his muddy boots, then unzipped his coat and grabbed a towel from the radiator and folded it around Bobby.
‘Christopher!’ he called. ‘I’m back.’
In the lounge, Christopher was waiting in his chair and when he saw Bobby, he clapped his hands and his eyes glistened in the firelight. ‘Oh my boy,’ he said as opened his arms.
Henry set Bobby on Christopher’s lap and he wrapped the blanket he had around him around Bobby too.
‘He could do with a wash, but he needed to see you first,’ Henry said.
‘How is he so muddy?’ Christopher asked, not seeming bothered by the fact as he hugged the small dog to him.
‘He’d fallen down a hole at the rear of your garden. It was past the trees and in a small clearing.’ Henry stood in front of the fire and warmed his hands, his legs, and then turned and did his back.
‘That damned hole.’ Christopher shook his head. ‘I covered it over years ago, but the planks must have moved. I think there’s a tunnel under there that probably leads to a smugglers’ cave. Smugglers’ caves exist in the area, but no one has used them for a very long time. The hole is out of the way so I didn’t think it would be a danger to anyone and Bobby rarely goes far from my side. He must have been spooked by the storm and fallen into it.’
‘It seemed that way. He’d gone along the tunnel to the cave and was completely bewildered.’
‘Thank goodness you found him. I’d be broken without him and the thought of him being down there, terrified and lone, is dreadful.’
‘He’ll need some TLC over the next few days, and we could get him checked by the vet tomorrow if you’re concerned about him, but he’s home safe now and that’s the main thing.’
‘Thank you so much.’ Christopher’s voice trembled.
‘No need for thanks. This is what friends do.’ He rubbed at his hair. ‘Will you be all right if I check on Rosa? I can come straight back, but I want to make sure she’s OK. I don’t have any phone signal.’
‘The landline is down too,’ Christopher said. ‘And yes, you must go to her. Bobby and I will be fine now. I’m not letting go of him.’
‘I’ll get you a drink and some water for him before I leave.’ Henry went out to the kitchen and almost cheered at the fact that Christopher had an Aga and that it was sending heat out into the kitchen. First, he put the kettle on the boiling plate; then he filled a bowl with water for Bobby. He quickly made a sandwich in case Christopher hadn’t eaten, made tea then placed everything on a tray. He took it through to the lounge and set the bowl on the floor and the mug and sandwich on the table next to Christopher.
‘I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ he said. ‘Make sure you drink your tea while it’s warm and eat the sandwich.’
‘I will, Henry. Your father must be a very proud man,’ Christopher said. ‘You’re a credit to him and your mother.’
Henry coughed as his automatic reply lodge in his throat. He’d love it if his father was proud of him, but he knew that wasn’t the case and never would be. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said softly, gently patting Christopher’s shoulder and then giving Bobby’s head a stroke.
He retrieved his coat from the kitchen and pulled it on, then tugged the hood over his head and opened the back door again.
It was going to be a long night, but he was determined to make sure that the people he cared about in Porthpenny were looked after. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to them when he could have kept them safe. As he marched along the pavement on his way to the bookshop, he realised how much they had come to mean to him — his family of friends that he had found when he least expected it.
He felt fortunate to have met them and hoped they felt the same.