The girl ran through the dunes, the sand sinking beneath her panicked feet. Her muscles ached with the effort of the climb, and several times she had to stop herself screaming as she tumbled, losing nearly all the ground she had gained. She could hear the sea on her left, and the occasional screech of the gulls, but it had been several minutes since she had been able to catch sight of the water. She had lost her sandals several hundred yards back and the torn strands of her tee-shirt flapped in the wind as she ran.
She knew
she was losing ground, but forced herself onwards. Surely she would come within sight of other people
soon? Where were the day-trippers
who had crowded the pavements earlier that morning? The children who had poured out from the train station into
the fairground? The dog-walkers
and kite-flyers? She took a moment
to look behind her and saw her pursuer calmly descending a sand dune she had
slid down not a minute before. Had
he seen her? Gasping with fright,
she launched herself once again into the desperate bid to outrun him.
The next dune gave her a sight of the sea. Her shocked gaze took in the fact that
the tide had come in, cutting off her escape route that way. She
spun around, trying to spot the shortest way back to safety. With a whimper she headed for where she
thought the path lay, oblivious to the marram grass tearing at her shins. There! Surely she couldn't be wrong? Wasn't that the faint strain of the hurdy-gurdy?
Suddenly she heard a grunt behind her and realised her
pursuer was almost upon her.
Almost crying with relief she recognised the hollowed-out patch of burnt grass that signified the beginning
of the path back to the road and threw herself into it.
"Den!" she cried in triumph, and laughed as
her brother threw up his hands in defeat. "Ok, you beat me to it this time, but admit it, I
had you scared, didn't I?" "Not even for a second," she lied.
Copyright © Carol Caffrey.
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