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The Mermaid of Penperro
Lisa Cach

The Mermaid of Penperro...

She swam out into slightly deeper water and lolled on her back. She dove and surfaced and dove again, and when she tired she swam over to the end of one of the outthrusts of rock that surrounded her cove. The weight of her body was heavy on her arms as she pulled herself up out of the salt water. She sat on a low rock, her legs still half underwater, and looked out at the sea.

She dug her fingers into her hair, making of them a crude comb as she worked at the worst of the snarls. Bugg would have a fit if he could see her now, preening nude on a rock. The thought brought her a wicked delight. The emotion begged for expression, something vengeful and impassioned.

In her head she heard the violent, crashing introduction as an orchestra hurled itself into the opening bars of a furious Mozart aria. She flung out her hands and raised her head in an arrogant, queenly gesture as she gathered a deep breath.

"Der Hölle Rache Kocht in meinem Herzen," she belted out, startling a small flock of seagulls into flight. "Tod und Verzweiflung flammet um mich her!"

She threw all her soul into the aria, feeling it in a way she never had before. She was singing the part of the Queen of the Night, from "The Magic Flute". The queen was singing, "Hellish revenge boils in my heart / Death and desperation are flaming around me!" as she tried to persuade her daughter to murder her father, Sarastro.

The aria was a favorite of hers, the coloratura passages some of the most difficult in the repertoire. The highest notes of the piece were produced by air moving across motionless vocal chords, much as a flute was played, and the result was eerily inhuman.

"Aa aa aa a a a a a a a a a a," she sang nearly three octaves above middle C, the notes rising, falling, and rising again in steps to ethereal levels and then finally doing a frantic dance of agility to the high F. She was at the end of the second major run of such notes when she heard a shout behind her. She jerked her head over her shoulder, and to her horror saw a man in a blue coat and white trousers gaping at her from back on the grassy ground. In panic she flung herself into the water. She heard him shout again as she came back to the surface. She had to hide, and quickly! Horror upon horrors, to be caught like this. There was nowhere on the rock outcropping to secrete herself. She swam around the rock arm, beyond sight of the cove, thankful that the waves were calm enough that she would not risk being battered against the rocks. The land rose higher in this direction, the shoreline irregular. The man was out of sight for the moment, so if she could just find a place to hide before he appeared again... There! A dark, upright shadow in the next headland that bespoke a cave, the opening all but hidden by a tall rock before it. She swam desperately for the opening, and with the help of an incoming wave slid easily inside. She clung to the slick rocks of the wall as the wave retreated, leaving her waist-deep in water, in a passage no more than three feet across. The rocks beneath her feet were jagged, and she lowered herself back into the water to take her weight off her feet. With the next wave she allowed herself to be carried farther inside, seeking a more comfortable resting place. The water sloshed and echoed weirdly in the confines of the crevice, the sound almost metallic. She clung to the rocks again as the wave retreated and water drained out of the cave, leaving her this time in only a foot of water, lying atop slightly smoother stones. Looking back over her shoulder saw that she was ten feet or so from the opening, probably deep enough into the dark that she could not be seen from outside. Up ahead, the passage continued in darkness. The next wave carried her just a few inches farther, but when it receded she froze in place. In the center of the darkness before her there had appeared a narrow sliver of light. In the blackness ahead without landmarks she had no way to tell how far off it was, or how large. She pulled herself slowly forward, floating just above the rocks, pushing with her knees and forearms, and as she progressed the sliver grew wider as the passage turned to the right, and she realized that what she was seeing was the opening at the other end. This was not just a cave, it was a natural tunnel through the headland. The light from behind her was cut off as she rounded the corner, but the opening at the far end kept her from being frightened, even though it was too distant to throw any light into the tunnel itself. Although her clothes were well behind her, the knowledge that there was another escape from the cave was a relief. She would not have liked to have risked being trapped inside by the incoming tide, or forced to exit while the blue-coated man still searched for her. The water reached only a few feet more, ending at sand. She crawled up onto this unexpected beach within a headland, her eyes still blind from the brightness outside. She felt her way forward, patting the sand with her hands, and then her hand landed upon something warm and alive. She yelped and jerked back at the same time that a male voice cried out. The man's cry startled her anew and she screamed, scrambling backwards towards the water, splashing into it with all the grace of a turtle returning to the sea, shrieking all the while. Hands fumbled at her, then plucked her from the water and dragged her back to the sand. She struggled, and one of the man's hands slid over her breast and her cold, stiff nipple. "Good Christ!" the man exclaimed, and dropped her abruptly. She landed on her rump and after a moment's surprise scrambled again in the direction she hoped the water lay - she was turned around now, her only landmark the far oval of light - but then her ankle was suddenly clasped and pinned to the sand by the man's strong hand. She tugged against it like a fox in a trap but could get no leverage, and she started to shriek again. "Shh! For God's sake, be quiet!" he said, just barely audible over her screeching. "I won't hurt you."

"Let me go!"

She was drawing in a breath to scream again, knowing that if she tried she could produce a sound that would echo through the passage and out into the open air. It was that thought coupled with his last words that gave her pause. She held the breath. Fear was making it difficult to think of anything but escape, but it occured to her that a man in the dark who was pleading with her was perhaps better than one in the daylight who could see her. "Please," he said again. Although his grip on her ankle was firm, he made no other move to touch her. She realized that he didn't want to be found by the blue-coated man any more than she did, and molesting her appeared to be the last thing on his mind. "Get back and I won't," she said, the words an experiment, a testing of his intentions. He let go of her ankle. She quickly turned around and inched backwards towards the water, keeping her eyes opened wide to catch any hint of movement, the urge to put distance between herself and the man irresistible. Her eyes were becoming adjusted to the dark, and she could faintly make out the man's outline as he sat on his knees and watched her. She felt vulnerable without her clothes, despite the blackness of the cave, and fear continued to flush through her veins and muscles. "Did you come in here to hide?" he asked. "Did he see you swimming?" She didn't answer, her feet finding the edge of the water. It felt warm in comparison to the chill of the dark cave and the cold damp sand. "He may be out there for a good time yet," the man said. "You'll be chilled to the bone if you try to wait him out in the water." As if in answer to his words she felt a hard shiver shake her body. "I cannot remain in here with you," she found voice to answer, through teeth that had suddenly begun to chatter. She was surprised the words came out sounding as calm as they did, given the way her heart was thundering in her chest. "Of course you can." He started doing something with his arms. She found herself opening her eyes even wider, trying to catch his movements in the dark. A shadow suddenly flew at her and she crouched down, covering her head with her hands. Something heavy and warm landed on her head. His coat. She pulled it off her head and immediately slipped it on, too glad for clothing to question his generosity. The silk lining was still warm from his body. Unlike the stylish short-fronted coats that men in London wore, this one was long front and back. She was grateful its owner was either unaware of the current fashion or chose the country style intentionally. Judging by the fine feel of the materials, she was guessing he chose it. She ran her hand under her hair along the back of her neck and tugged her wet locks out from under the coat, letting them drop onto her back. Her eyes carefully on the shadow that was the man, she walked on her knees to a dry patch of sand a safe distance from him, the coat wrapped tight around her, then sat, tucking her feet up beneath her. "Thank you," she said. "My pleasure." He made himself more comfortable. "It is not every day that I have the chance to offer my coat to a lady in such needy circumstances." She could hear the amusement in his educated, yet still faintly Cornish-accented voice. "I imagine not," she replied, having no witty repartee with which to deflect him. Cautious fear and an embarrassed horror at her situation were taking all her brain power. She huddled down into the coat, catching the faint scent of lavender from the collar. Her shivering was no longer constant, but coming now in short, bone-jarring bursts. As the minutes passed and it became apparent he was not going to try to approach her, her fear faded and she wondered what he was doing in the cave, himself, and who the man in the blue coat was from whom they both were hiding. The situation, however, did not seem appropriate for asking questions. As long as he stayed away from her, he could keep his business to himself. "Are you quite all right, there?" he asked into their mutual silence. "Are you warm enough?" "Yes, thank you. Your coat is more than adequate." "I didn't hurt you, did I?" "No. I am uninjured." More silence, then she heard him shifting again. She could see him just well enough to know that he was facing her now, one arm resting on an up-raised knee. "I have never in all my days seen a woman intentionally take a swim in the sea. I don't suppose you were in a boat that capsized, were you? But no, you would not have been able to strip off your clothes if that were so. So swimming it must have been." Why was he talking to her? Why couldn't he just be quiet and let this horrible situation play itself out in silence, so she could pretend it wasn't happening? "Excuse me, but I really don't think we should be speaking," she said. "Our voices may carry outside the cave." "I doubt that, as long as we keep them low," he said, and blithely continued on. "You gave me quite a start when you came crawling out of the water." "I gave you a start?" she asked incredulously, startled out of her embarrassed reticence. "I?" "Yes, you. Visions of all manner of terrible creatures entered my mind when I heard you splashing about in the shallows." Terrible creature? She? "Do you think I expected to find you, lurking in the shadows like... like some type of bat?" Woefully inadequate, Œbat'. She could do better than that! "Oh, I am nothing like a bat, I assure you. They hang from their feet, you know," he said. "That is not the point." "It's not? I was sitting here quite calmly, keeping to my own affairs, waiting for Foweather and his men to go away, and then you turn up like some sort of confused sea lion, flopping itself onto the sand, scaring me half to death." She made a little grunt of offense. She did not flop! And she was nothing like a sea lion. "What are you doing, hiding in here, anyway?" "Oh, that," he said, and she saw him wave his hand airily. "It's not important."

Fine. Let him keep his secrets, and she could keep hers. Silent moments passed, and she began to relax, thinking he had finally caught that she was not in the mood for social chatter.

"Do I have the honor of addressing Mrs. Konstanze Crécy Bugg?" he suddenly asked.

"Ug -" she gurgled. "O Gott!" "I suspected as much. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Tom Trewella, the executor of your late uncle's estate."