Grimsdon by Deborah Abela Page A

of Norway by Erik Pontoppidan, Bishop of Bergen, 1752.’
    The old man turned through pages of sea creatures resembling serpents, giant finned dragons and colossal squid. ‘Ziphius, Pristis, Physeter, Architeuthis...’
    â€˜And these are...?’ Xavier asked.
    â€˜Sea monsters,’ he answered, as if he were asking for one sugar in his cup of tea.
    â€˜Of course.’ Xavier shook his head.
    â€˜Based on sailors’ stories.’
    â€˜The ones who weren’t eaten,’ Xavier reminded him.
    Isabella poked her elbow firmly into Xavier’s side.
    â€˜Hey!’
    â€˜They usually stay away from the mainland but, with rising seas and flooding, they’re moving. Drawn by currents.’ His voice softened and he hugged Snowy. ‘Punishment for what we let happen.’
    Xavier stared at him. ‘Sea monsters? Alive and well in Grimsdon?’
    â€˜Never used to be.’ He shook his head. ‘Everything’s changed.’
    â€˜You don’t think you just need to get out more? Take in some fresh air and get a bit of sun?’
    Isabella leant forward on her chair and kicked Xavier in the shins.
    â€˜They created whirlpools, called Skagarag. Dragged ships to the bottom of the the ocean.’
    Isabella read from the book: ‘Even the most experienced sailors feared the Skelene. Often, descriptions of the beast were sketchy, partly because of its size but also because the sailors who had seen her were so traumatised by the experience that they often lost the power of speech or simply fell into a crazed delirium from which they never recovered.’
    â€˜And you believe this because it’s in a dusty, old book?’ Xavier asked.
    â€˜And because of the fish.’
    â€˜The fish told you?’
    â€˜No,’ the old man laughed. ‘Fish didn’t tell me. I can’t talk fish. That would be crazy.’
    Xavier shook his head and looked to Isabella. ‘Yeah, crazy.’
    â€˜Last few months, fish’ve been leaving.’
    â€˜Maybe they’re off on their summer holiday,’ Xavier offered.
    The old man leant forward and whispered, ‘They’re scared.’
    Xavier whispered back. ‘Of what?’
    â€˜The Skelene, o’ course.’
    â€˜You’re basing your theories on a bunch of fish who have brains the size of a pea.’
    â€˜Fish’ve been around for five hundred million years. Humans much less. Look at the mess we’ve made.’
    â€˜Why are you here?’ Isabella asked.
    â€˜Floods.’
    â€˜I mean, why are you still here? Why didn’t you get out when the rescuers came?’
    â€˜It’s peaceful. No phones. No traffic or bad televsion. I...’ He turned away, picked up his bear and shuffled to the window in his slippers. ‘You can leave now.’
    â€˜I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ... Can we come back?’ Isabella asked. ‘We have a friend who I know would love to meet you.’
    Xavier shot her a wide-eyed look.
    The old man remained at the window, staring, not answering. He held Snowy to his cheek. They began to leave when Isabella snuck one last peek and noticed he held a photo in one hand. It was of a woman holding a small, laughing girl. Isabella took the apples from her pocket and held them out. ‘I’m sorry we broke into your home.’
    The man quickly shoved the photo into his pocket. He turned and froze. His wrinkled face creased even further, as if he had no idea what he was looking at.
    â€˜Please take them.’ Isabella held the fruit out further. ‘My friend Griffin grows them.’
    The man reached out. His gloves were blackened and worn through at the fingertips. He took the apples as if they were rare jewels.
    â€˜They’re delicious. Try one.’
    He put it slowly to his lips and took a bite. His face softened. A small laugh escaped from his mouth.
    â€˜We’ll go now.’ They turned to