The danger was the paralysis which left jellyfish victims unable to help themselves. He understood now what it felt like to be hunted — not viciously, as men track down one of their own kind, but simply for food.
After yesterday’s experiences in the cave, none of them had felt too sure of themselves. His own inclination had been to take it easy for the rest of the day, but he’d reckoned without Jacqui’s will-power. The film crew had arrived at midday as planned, and she’d decided to stick to her schedule. Their first location was among the sand dunes where they’d discovered the drowned teenager — how long ago was it now? A couple of weeks only, but it seemed like months.
This time, just to be quite sure, they had their own jellyfish with them, one of those he and Jane had collected that morning. While Jane drove, he nervously held the round specimen container clasped between his knees. He felt thankful the tide was coming in, making it too dangerous to take the crew to film in the cave. Jacqui was quite capable of it, he knew.
As it was, once they’d reached the dunes and had everything set up, she instructed Jane to tip the jellyfish out on to the sand.
‘Stand well clear, then!’ Jane replied coolly.
At arm’s length, she unclipped the lid and threw it aside. For some reason, he didn’t know why, Tim had expected the jellyfish to be skulking at the bottom of the container; instead, it clung to the side just below the lip and they had difficulty dislodging it.
‘Shake it!’ Jacqui snapped impatiently.
Jane had grinned at her, her eyes mocking; she’d held it out. ‘You try.’
Jacqui was unperturbed. She had brought with her a walking stick for Tim to use as a pointer; with it, she gently prised the jellyfish free. Instinctively, Jane stepped back as it fell on the sand at her feet. Even then Jacqui wasn’t satisfied. She sent for water to splash over it.
‘We want it to look its best,’ she remarked lightly enough, but it was obvious to Tim that was just a front. She watched it cannily — and with loathing — as she was speaking and made sure she stood well clear.
In the shade — so long as it was not giving off any light of its own — the jellyfish looked, Tim reflected, like an unsavoury pink blancmange. But then no doubt it had moods, just as humans do.
After a quick rehearsal for the sake of Wally, the tall cameraman, Tim plunged into his brief commentary, using the walking stick to indicate the various parts of the creature. To his mind, he said off the cuff, this was as genuine a monster of the deep as he’d ever want to meet. Then they moved the camera for a close shot to demonstrate what he meant. With the stick he raised a fringe of the jellyfish to reveal its tentacles. One obligingly emptied its poison against the metal ferrule.
Jane had been in a sombre mood as he held the container steady while she shovelled the jellyfish back into it. She clipped the lid into place, then straightened up, her face flushed from the effort. The light breeze blew her straight blonde hair about her face.
‘You’re very beautiful right now,’ he told her. ‘Maybe jellyfish are good for you.’
She ignored the remark. ‘I’d like to get them over to my sister’s place today,’ she said abruptly. ‘You’ll be getting fed up with me taking your car, but — just once more? May I?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m worried. The way they all sat there in that cave waiting for us. Watching us while we took some of them away. What was going on in those nasty little brains?’
‘They don’t have brains.’
‘Don’t they? Then I’d like to know what they do have.’
‘Appetites,’ he reminded her grimly. ‘So you be bloody careful.’
Driving him back into town — he still couldn’t manage the gear lever with his bandaged hand — she brought up the theme again. ‘I can’t understand how you can be so certain they don’t have brains. We know nothing about them.’
‘All I know is, we’re going to see a lot more. I only hope you can convince your sister how urgent this is. Something out there must be driving them ashore — but what?’
He’d had no idea when he spoke so prophetically that the next major invasion of jellyfish would be as soon as the following morning. It’d been no more than a hunch, anyway.
They had completed their work that day and seen no further sign of them, either on the beach or by the harbour where they shot the next sequence. He’d helped Jane pack the two specimen containers into the boot of his BMW, wrapping a car rug around them to prevent them rolling about, and then watched her drive off. Back in the hotel he’d made a half-hearted attempt to contact Sue, again unsuccessfully, but he’d learned to expect that now. It was like a great emptiness in his life; a void which he felt could never be filled. Sue blamed him, of course — but then she would.
He’d had dinner alone with Jacqui. They’d tried a steak bar, not wishing to risk the Grand Hotel’s cuisine again. To avoid having to ask her to cut up his meat for him he’d plumped for the scampi. Over a bottle of cheap wine their talk became lively, like old friends’, though he hadn’t known her all that long. Neither of them mentioned jellyfish and, as if by some unspoken agreement, they both steered clear of their private involvements. When they parted in the hotel lobby she even held up her face for a kiss.
It was surprising how much she knew about the theatre, he thought as he went upstairs humming to himself. Studied drama at university; he hadn’t known that.
Although it was still early, he’d gone to bed almost immediately. For the first time in days he’d felt completely relaxed. Should he stop phoning Sue, he wondered drowsily before falling asleep; should he go to Totnes instead? She could hardly ignore him face to face.
As for the jellyfish, he might be quite wrong about them. According to the hotel porter, the police had visited the cave after the early evening tide. They’d found a packet containing marijuana — God knows where, because he hadn’t seen it — but nothing else.
Fair enough — that could be the last anyone saw of them, he’d told himself comfortably as sleep took over.
Tim’s mood of quiet optimism lasted through until the following morning when it was shattered by Jacqui herself. He was rushing downstairs, late, having slept through the alarm, when he bumped into her on her way up. She caught his arm, gripping it tightly. Her hazel eyes were lively with excitement and — was it fear?
‘You know about it?’
‘Know what?’ he asked, still half asleep.
‘Nobody’s told you, then? Jellyfish everywhere. We’re going down there now with the crew. Two fuzz dead — at least, that’s the rumour. Oh, and an old man.’
‘In the harbour?’
‘On the beach, of course! I was coming to fetch you.’
‘I’ll need my gear.’ He started to go back upstairs, but stopped when he realised she was not following. ‘Well, come and help me, for Chrissake! I’ll need all morning without help.’
Back in his room he tugged the curtain aside to get a look at the beach. The sight of it stunned him into silence. At his side, Jacqui was trembling as she tried to master her fear. He was aware she was saying something, her lips forming the words, but no sound came from her.
Around the entire sweep of the bay, stretching as far as he could see, the sand was sparkling like a jewelled collar. No mistaking the cause, either: a multitude of gleaming pink jellyfish scintillated under the bright morning sun. Yesterday he’d walked across those sands with Jacqui and Jane, and not seen a jellyfish anywhere until they’d reached the cave beyond the headland; now there were so many that it would be impossible to go two paces without treading on one.