Again, the weather was about to play an important part in their lives. It was now spring and the wood had a fresh carpet of green. The two girls spent most of their time exploring the island. Diane knew every nook and cranny but now she was sharing it with someone, it all seemed different. They decided to make their own map and to name all the features. The cave by the shore was already known as Fisherman's Rest. The name they gave to the steep hill on the west of the island they called High Rise Hill. The stream that ran through the wood, Lucy named the Bubbling Brook and the small lake at the foot of High Rise Hill they called the Mirror Lake. Diane had just read a book about a lake with that name. The cottage became known as Rose Cottage due to the large number that grew round the side and of course the wood was already known as the Magic Wood.
Diane and Lucy also wanted to make a book about their island, so they began to collect flowers and leaves that they pressed and stuck carefully in an old scarp book that Diane's mum had given them. Not only did they know the names of all the flowers and trees that grew on the island but during the winter months just by looking at the book they could imagine what the wood looked like in summer. The two girls also spent time on the seashore collecting different shells and pebbles. Once they collected some seaweed but Diane's mother would not let them bring into the house. However, when it was her birthday, they presented her with a lamp made from shells that she thought was beautiful and had a pride of place on a table in the front room.
Going to school one morning, the girls threw a glass bottle into the sea.
'Why are you doing that?' enquired their dad.
'We read a story last night about a man who was ship wrecked and stranded on an island,' answered
Diane. 'To let people know he was there, he put his name and where he was on a piece of paper,
put it in a bottle and threw it out to sea.'
'Was he rescued?'
'I don't know, we haven't got to that bit yet. We'll let you know how it turns out.'
'Thanks. You didn't say you were ship wrecked?'
'Oh, no! We just put our names on it and where we live.'
Thank goodness for that!'
As they lived on an island and had to travel by boat to the mainland, Diane's father always
listened to the late night weather forecast on the radio. Spring was usually the worst time
of year for high tides and if there was a storm as well the crossing could be very dangerous.
That night as he listened to the forecast for the following day, he was rather concerned as
a severe storm was forecast. If the weather was bad they would be unable to get to the mainland.
Not that the two girls would mind as it would mean no school!
The next morning when Diane and Lucy got up they noticed that it was darker than usual. Diane's
father was standing at the door looking out to sea.
'What's the matter, dad?' asked Diane. 'Are we in for a storm?'
'I don't know, but one was forecast on the radio last night. I've seen many storms since we've
lived on the island but this seems different.'
They went outside to have a look. It was different. It was dark. The clouds were swirling
around. Black, menacing clouds. Everything was quiet and still. Too quiet! Too still! It
was almost unnatural even the birds had stopped singing. It was if they knew something dreadful
was about to happen. They closed the door and went in to have their breakfast. Diane whispered
to Lucy that they might have to have the day off school because of the bad weather.
'Are you going across to the mainland today?' asked her mum.
'I don't know, I'll see after breakfast,' he said.
During breakfast, Diane kept her left hand under the table as she was keeping her fingers crossed
that they would have a day off school! After breakfast, her dad went outside to have another
look at the weather. Diane was hoping as hard as she could that there would be no school that
day. The next thing she knew was that her dad was shouting at them.
'Quick! Under the table!' He wasn't shouting, he was screaming. 'Come-on! Under the table
everyone!'
Everyone scrambled under the table. Diane knew there was something terribly wrong. Her father
was as pale as a ghost. They waited crouching under the table for what seemed a long time.
Then it happened. It started with a roaring sound that got louder and louder as if a train
was coming out of a tunnel. Followed by crashing and banging noises. The house began to shake.
Things fell off cupboards and shelves. The windows rattled. Then a terrific bang followed
by smashing glass as one of the windows blew in. The curtains were ripped off the rail. Pots
and furniture were blown across the room. What was happening? Would it ever go away?
At last, the noise died down but it was still very windy. They waited under the table for
a few more minutes until it was safe to get up. The room was in such a mess.
'What was it?' asked Diane who was still shaking.
'I really don't know,' replied her dad, 'but it could have been a hurricane.'
He went outside to look at the damage. Diane and Lucy were helping to put things back and
to tidy up. A few minutes later he came back with a damage report. The house doesn't appear
to have much damage but the shed has been blown away along with the fence and several trees
have been blown down but it could have been worse.
There was no school that day. Everyone was busy tidying up. Diane's dad put a piece of wood
over the window until he could fix it properly.
'I hope the storm didn't reach the mainland,' said Diane's mum. 'There are so many buildings
over there that it could cause a lot of damage.'
The next day the girls went to the wood to see how much damage had been done by the storm.
Quite a lot of trees had been blown over but the Christmas tree was safe. Many of the flowers
had been uprooted and Lucy began to gather some to take back to the cottage.
'What's that, lying over there?' asked Diane pointing to something brown under a tree. They
went to have a look and found it was an owl.
'Poor thing! It must have died during the storm'.
Lucy bent down to have a closer look.
'Wait a minute, I don't think it's dead.'
The owl had been badly hurt but it was still alive. They carried it carefully back to the
cottage. Diane found a cardboard box, wrapped the owl in a piece of old blanket and placed
it carefully in the box. Her mum came to have a look.
'I think it's just shocked. It does have a cut on its head but that should heal. In a few
days time, I think you will find that it will be well again.'
In the afternoon, a boat arrived from the mainland. In it were two men from the local newspaper.
Apparently, the storm had not reached the mainland and they had come to take photographs of
the damage. They took a photograph of Diane and Lucy holding the owl and they asked Diane's
mum lots of questions about the storm.
'We're going to famous,' shouted Diane when they had left.
The next day when Diane's father came home from work he brought with him a copy of the local
newspaper. On the front page was a photograph of the girls holding the owl and at the top
it said, 'Island hit by hurricane'. The girls pinned up the picture in Lucy's bedroom.
A few days later, the owl was better and was released by into the wood.
'Next time I want something to happen,' said Diane to herself. 'I don't think I'll cross my
fingers!'
