One of Granddad’s favorite stories was about the night he heard the whales sing. He’d been at sea for weeks. It’s not easy for sailors to get lost. Unless it’s cloudy. Then the stars are hidden at night and the sun is gone for most of the day. Before the whales sang, the ship’s equipment had broken and the clouds had been thick for three days and nights.

“That’s the only time I’ve ever been truly scared at sea,” Granddad would say. “If a storm had come, we would not have had the foggiest where shallow water or rocks might be.”

They put the ship at anchor and slept, praying for clear skies in the morning.

“That night every soul on board was woken by deep singing. You can hear history in a whale’s song—each booming note slowly shaking your bones, vibrating through you. We all went out on deck and there they were. Huge beasts, shining in the moonlight. A gam of whales.”

Granddad said that the captain, Long Ben, was one of the best seamen he’d ever known. “Knew the sea like a mother.”

Long Ben called for the anchor to be raised. The crew fired up the engine and followed the whales. And when the sun rose, they were in sight of land and in the shipping lane they’d lost. With a song, the whales had led them home.

—

The night after we found Leonard, I couldn’t sleep; there was a whistle on the wind. Leonard was singing.

“Jamie,” Ned said. “Can you hear him?”

We stared out of our window, down to the garage and across the sea. Leonard’s home was somewhere out there. Maybe Leonard had a family waiting for him to come home. Maybe he was lost.

“Ned,” I whispered, and for the first time I said what we both knew. “We can’t keep him forever.”

Ned wasn’t listening. He was searching for something in his drawer. He came back to the window with his Walkman. Dad had bought it last time my brother had a long stay in hospital. It had a big microphone unit on the top. Our friend Tibs, who lived at the post office round the corner, had been so jealous when he had seen it.

Ned pushed open the window, but before pressing record he turned back to me. “You can’t keep anything forever,” he whispered.