{"id":129,"date":"2012-05-13T19:11:51","date_gmt":"2012-05-13T19:11:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/?page_id=129"},"modified":"2019-11-09T14:46:30","modified_gmt":"2019-11-09T14:46:30","slug":"the-fossil-stone","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/?page_id=129","title":{"rendered":"The Fossil Stone"},"content":{"rendered":"

The boy picked his way through the rocks. A wind was blowing, making a small, whistling sound. It ruffled the pools where shells lay. From time to time he stooped and picked up a stone, a feather; a shell. Once he found a tiny bird bone, white, scoured and fragile. His mother walked ahead of him, her long black hair swinging to the rhythm of her steps. He did not take his eyes off her for long.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u2018Thomas!\u2019 she called, turning. \u2018Thomas!\u2019 Her voice was fragile like the bone. It blew across the rocks with the wind and broke.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

He caught up with her at the flat rock where they always sat. Usually she would point out the birds on the shoreline \u2013 a beady-eyed herring gull, a sleek cormorant; the black and white oyster catchers with their red beaks. He liked the sound of the curlews best of all \u2013 the notes bubbling like the streams that ran down the shingle bank from under the low cliffs. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

But his mother wasn\u2019t talking today. She was bent over, her head in her hands. He watched the oyster catchers and the black-headed gulls as they walked up and down the line of wet sand. Sometimes they took flight but they soon settled again. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Once he reached for his mother\u2019s hand and she held it briefly. She did not look up.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Why is the sky blue?\u2019 he asked after a while though he knew the answer. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

His mother shook her head like a dog emerging from water. She sat up. There were lines of tears on her cheeks. \u2018God made the sky blue so that we could rest when we looked at it. A red sky would be very tiring, don\u2019t you think?\u2019<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t believe in God. She had told him so.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Sam\u2019s got a new bicycle,\u2019 he said.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018That\u2019s nice.\u2019 She bit her lip.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

They walked as far as the Point. It was a long way. The tide was up and they had to walk on the shingle. His legs tired. The wind was stronger now and the waves no longer playful but swollen and angry.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018We better not go any further,\u2019 his mother said. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

He was glad of that.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

She sat down on the shingle. He did not join her. \u2018I\u2019m taking a break, Thomas. I\u2019m going away for two weeks.\u2019 She had never been away before. It had always been the three of them – until everything exploded. \u2018You will stay with your father. It\u2019s all arranged.\u2019<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

On the way back he walked along the shoreline. The tide had ebbed a little. In some places the sand was more like mud. His mother kept to the shingle. He had nothing to say to her.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

His father took him to the museum in town. They looked at the old boats, the ancient diving suit; the model of a lighthouse. Thomas liked the whale skeleton best. It was so big and clean and white. He wished he could crawl through it and he imagined touching the smooth bones, feeling himself small inside.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018How\u2019s school going?\u2019 His father tousled his hair.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s OK,\u2019 he said.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

After the museum they ate in a restaurant. There were crisp white cloths on the table and candles in glass holders. It was very quiet. Thomas ordered breaded fish with vegetables and chips. Here they were not named chips but \u2018French fries\u2019. Thomas did not understand why but he did not ask. His father ate salmon. It was pink and covered in a pale, thick sauce.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018What are you learning at school?\u2019 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas chewed on a French fry. It tasted good, not quite like a chip, but good all the same. \u2018We\u2019re learning about volcanoes. There are over 1,500 active volcanoes in the world.\u2019<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Sounds interesting,\u2019 his father replied. A piece of salmon had stuck to his beard.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

His mother smiled when she picked him up. She even smiled at his father and later Thomas heard her laughing on the telephone. I\u2019ve had a wonderful holiday, oh the best, she said. She flew across the sea all the way to Italy. But Thomas thought about the holiday in Cornwall by the lighthouse with the three of them. How long ago it was.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

His mother did not ask how he had got on at his father\u2019s house. That was good. He never liked the questions she asked. Who was there? Has your father got a girlfriend yet?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

But things soon turned again. He heard his mother crying in the bedroom. She had her hair cut so short it looked like the grass at the edge of the field. Sometimes she got up past midday. Sometimes she just stared out of the window and her eyes became the windows, glassy and blank. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas made boats out of paper in his bedroom. He made a lugger, a dory and a trawler. He tried to make a skeleton of a whale using pipe cleaners but it collapsed and he gave up.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

There were days and days of heavy rain. Rain dripped into the bathroom. His mother put out a bucket to catch the drips. They did not return to the beach. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

One night his mother ordered pizzas. This was odd. It wasn\u2019t his birthday; it was no one\u2019s birthday. It wasn\u2019t even the weekend. Thomas ordered a margarita, his mother a <\/span><\/span>Veneziana<\/em><\/span><\/span>. She said that the <\/span><\/span>Veneziana<\/em><\/span><\/span> came from a city built on water; this was a city she had visited on her trip; a marvel. She showed him a picture of a gondola. It reminded him of a black swan. He would try and make one. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

When the pizzas arrived they sat at the table to eat, instead of balancing the plates on their laps.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Americans eat one hundred acres of pizza each day,\u2019 Thomas said. \u2018That\u2019s almost a hundred football pitches.\u2019<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018You know some strange facts.\u2019 His mother\u2019s face was flushed. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

She told him a joke about an elephant and a monkey. It wasn\u2019t very funny but they laughed anyway and that night he did not hear her crying.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The next day the rain was gone. It was cold but the sun was out. Everything looked so bright it made his eyes hurt.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Let\u2019s go to the beach,\u2019 his mother said. \u2018It\u2019s been far too long.\u2019<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

She did not walk ahead of him this time. She took a lot of photographs. His father had bought the camera for her birthday but she hadn\u2019t used it in over a year.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Look at this Thomas,\u2019 his mother said pointing at a dark red anemone. Her voice sounded like a slow wave.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

They walked up to the Point along the shoreline. The tide was low, exposing the long reaches of muddy sand. In the sand were rivulets in the shape of trees. A cormorant stood on a rock, waiting for fish.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018How would you feel if Dad came back?\u2019 his mother said suddenly.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas bent down and picked up a stone. There was a fossil inside it; a fern. He\u2019d never found anything like it before. He slipped it in his pocket. He did not show his mother. \u2018That would nice,\u2019 he said.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

She threw her head back and laughed. \u2018Is that all you can say?\u2019<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

He kicked at the shingle. He didn\u2019t understand why he felt so angry.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

When they reached the Point he pulled the stone out of his pocket.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018That\u2019s nice,\u2019 his mother said. He held it out to her. \u2018No,\u2019 she said. \u2018It\u2019s more than nice. It\u2019s absolutely terrific.\u2019<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2018Yes,\u2019 he said, \u2018It is,\u2019 and smiled.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The boy picked his way through the rocks. A wind was blowing, making a small, whistling sound. It ruffled the pools where shells lay. From time to time he stooped and picked up a stone, a feather; a shell. Once he found a tiny bird bone, white, scoured and fragile. His mother walked ahead of … Continue reading The Fossil Stone<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":10,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/129"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=129"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/129\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1098,"href":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/129\/revisions\/1098"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/10"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/bronwengriff.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=129"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}