Authors: Sarah Webb
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Girls & Women, #Social Issues, #Friendship
Clover snorts. “I still think they’re snogging.”
Matt laughs. “Snogging! That’s not a word you hear in Miami. God, I miss Ireland.”
“With all this?” Clover waves her arms in the air, taking in the beach and the restaurant. “I bet it’s raining at home.”
“Yep, but I even miss the rain. It gets so hot in Miami. Look, before I chicken out, I need to ask you both a favour.” He drags a hand through his hair. “I need you to find someone for me and give them a message.”
“An old girlfriend?” I ask.
He smiles at me. “You don’t miss much, do you, Amy. She’s probably forgotten all about me by now. But I owe her an explanation. I left Ireland without saying goodbye. It nearly broke my heart.”
“You just ran away?” I ask. “But why?”
He clicks his tongue. “I wanted to travel. To have an adventure, get out of Ireland. At the time it felt so small, like one big village: claustrophobic, you know. I thought I’d meet other girls – but I haven’t, not like Martie.”
“What did you just say?” I ask.
“Martie. That’s her name. Martina Coghill. She lives near Lough Ine. She used to know Kit Harper, so you might be able to find her through him. She got me the job with May in the first place.”
No wonder Martie froze when she saw Matt’s photograph. Clover is staring at me. I give her a little frown to stop her saying anything. “Don’t worry,” I tell Matt. “We’ll help you.”
An hour later Matt is driving us back to the hotel. He’s already dropped Mills and Ed off. It’s one o’clock in the morning and I can’t stop yawning. Mum would have a fit if she knew I was out so late.
As we pull up outside our hotel my phone rings. I answer it. “Hello?”
“Amy, it’s Gramps. I’m in Esther’s house and we asked Martie to call over urgently, just like you told me to. She’s standing right here beside me. Now what?”
“When I say, ‘Now!’ hand Martie your phone.”
“Roger that.”
“OK, Gramps –
now!
” I hand the mobile over to Matt and pray I’ve done the right thing. “Someone wants to talk to you,” I tell him.
“Who is this?” Matt says into the phone, bemused. After a brief pause his eyes widen. “Martie, is that you? Martie.” He starts to cry.
Oops, what have I done?
“Let’s give him some privacy,” Clover says. She opens the passenger door.
“It’s a convertible, you dummy,” I say. “We can still hear.”
“Not if we go inside.”
“Clover!” I’m dying to earwig on their conversation – but Clover’s right.
We wait in the lobby, glancing out of the window now and again to see if Matt’s still there.
After a few minutes, Matt walks inside and hands me back the mobile.
“Well?” I say.
“Martie’s pretty angry with me. But at least she didn’t hang up.”
“Is she coming over to see you?”
He shakes his head sadly. He looks like a puppy that’s just been put outside.
“Oh.” This isn’t very romantic at all.
Sitting down beside us, he puts his head in his hands. “I’ve really messed up this time. There’ll never be another Martie. I’m such an idiot. You always know where you are with Martie. Always tells you the truth, even if you don’t want to hear it.” He gives a laugh. “She said my teeth look fake.” He opens his mouth wide and pulls back his gums. Now he looks like a mare at a horse market. I don’t like to point out that veneers
are
fake.
“Pay no attention,” Clover says kindly. “They’re lovely. So she knows you’re Matt Munroe, but she hasn’t told anyone? Or tried to contact you?”
“No.” He shrugs. “That’s Irish girls for you. Completely mad and stubborn as anything. Sorry, girls, no offence.”
“That’s OK,” Clover says. “It’s probably true. The stubborn bit, anyway.”
Matt sighs. “I guess I’ll just have to move on. Put Martie behind me. But at least I have her number now. Thanks to you two. She said I can ring her if I need to talk.”
“Did she now?” Clover looks at me, eyebrows raised.
“And will you?” I ask him.
“Every day. Until she changes her mind.”
I smile: if he’s that determined, there’s hope yet.
Chapter 34
It’s
hard to say goodbye to Mills. Ria has arranged for a chauffeur to bring us to the airport. Matt has a script meeting all afternoon, but Ed and Mills have come along to see us off.
“I’ve had such an amazing time.” I grab Mills and give her a bear hug. (She smells of apples from her fruity shampoo.) “I’ll miss you.”
“Only two more weeks,” she says aloud before whispering in my ear, “Thanks for all the advice. Ed’s great. I don’t know what I saw in Matt; he’s far too serious for me. And good luck with Seth. I’m sorry we didn’t get much time to talk, but you guys will work it out; you’re made for each other.”
“I hope so, Mills,” I say. “I’ll see you back in Dublin. Have fun with Ed. And thanks for everything.”
Earlier this morning, I finally got a chance to tell Mills about what had happened with Seth and a little about Kit.
Mills said that from the way I was describing Kit, it sounded as if he and Matt were very alike – both drop-dead gorgeous, both confused.
“I think they both need to find out who they really are, Amy,” she said. Mills is one smart cookie sometimes.
Talking to her made me realize just how much I miss Seth and how much he means to me. Back at the hotel, while Clover was writing up some notes for Saffy on her laptop, I went downstairs and sat down at one of the computers in the hotel’s business centre. I wanted to check my emails and was hoping there might be a message from Seth. There was!
Yowser, Amy!
Miami! You lucky thing, kiddo! It’s supposed to be mega.
I’m sorry too about the phone call the other day. I was really annoyed with you afterwards and frustrated that you didn’t seem to believe me about Jin (as if!) – but I thought about it and I guess I was going on about her in my emails a lot. I missed you and maybe I wanted to make you a bit jealous. It was really childish and stupid, and I’m sorry.
I hope you don’t mind, but I was so upset after our phone call that I talked to Jin about it. She said it sounded as if we were good together and worth saving, and not to let you go without a fight. She said she broke up with her boyfriend once and she missed him so much that it made her realize how much she liked him. They got back together and things are even better now.
Anyway, I hope we can work things out back in Dublin. I don’t want to lose you, babe.
Love always,
Seth XXX + a million
P. S. Jin really isn’t my type. Promise. I only have eyes for you!
I almost cried with relief. Jin’s right: sometimes you don’t realize what you’ve got till it’s gone. I’m not going to make that mistake again.
After nearly fifteen hours of travelling, Clover and I arrive at Cork Airport on Sunday morning. I managed to get some sleep on the plane, slouched on top of Clover’s shoulder, so I don’t feel too bad, but Clover’s in bits: she didn’t sleep a wink. She rolls her head on her neck and it makes an ominous click. She scowls at me. “You were dribbling on me the whole way over the Atlantic.”
“I don’t dribble.” I wipe the edges of my mouth with my finger. Oops, maybe I do dribble a little. I stretch over her and look out of the window. Grey sky and drizzle. “Welcome back to sunny old Ireland.” I sigh.
Miami, with its sun, clear blue skies, swimming pools, elephant-sized jeeps, red carpets and Jimmy Choos, seems like a dream.
Chapter 35
Back
at Haven House, Clover takes to her bed at three with jet lag. I finish up my late lunch and walk outside. Spotting a book on the patio table I walk over. It’s
Into the Wild
, the book Kit was reading in his boathouse. There’s a plain white postcard sticking from between its pages and I pull it out. To my surprise, it’s a note for me.
Dear Amy,
Sorry about the other day. Thought you might like to read this. Sad but honest.
Kit
“Sad but honest” – does he mean himself or the book? I didn’t think about Kit much in Miami, but now I’m back I get this overwhelming urge to see him, despite Seth’s email. And the book has given me a good excuse.
“Mee-mee.” Alex toddles out of the kitchen, his arms outstretched. “Mee-mee, biccie.”
“And I thought you were just pleased to see me, little man.” I lift him up and swing him in the air. “Let’s get you a biccie, then.” Tucking him under my arm, I walk back inside and hand him a chocolate digestive from Mum’s secret stash.
“Have you got Alex?” Mum calls from upstairs.
“Yep, I’ll send him up to you in a minute.” (I’d better wipe away the tell-tale chocolate smears first.)
I clean him up with a baby wipe and then pat him on his padded-nappy bottom and carry him up the stairs. He sits on the top step, staring up at me.
“See you later, alligator,” I say and gently kiss the top of his head; then I skip down the stairs and walk quickly towards the boathouse.
It’s cloudy but at least it’s not raining. As I approach the boathouse, I see two figures sitting on the rocks. They are facing the window framing Kit’s mobile. It’s Gramps and Esther. And they’re lost in conversation. I try to creep past them, but my foot crunches on some pebbles and they look up.
“Amy!” Esther smiles at me. “How was Miami?”
Gramps pats a flat stone. “I’ve saved you a seat.”
“Miami was great,” I say, sitting down. I tell them all about my holiday – although I leave out the Matt/Sean discovery. Esther must know him and I figure it’s not my story to tell.
“Your gardener friend was looking for you,” Gramps says when I’ve finished. “Said he had something for you.”
“Yes, a book.”
Esther looks at me, opens her mouth and then closes it again. Suddenly, the sun breaks through the clouds, its rays beaming through Kit’s mobile, making the glass shards sparkle. “There you go,” Esther tells Gramps, nodding at the mobile. “Told you it would happen if we waited long enough. Haven’s very own northern lights, courtesy of Kit.”
“Kit?” I ask her. “I thought his mum made the glass mobile.”
“May? No, child. She used to collect glass paper-weights, all right. Kept them in the boathouse – it was her special place – but Kit created the mobile.”
“Why did he tell me his mum made it?”
Esther shrugs. “No idea. But it’s the first time he’s spoken about May to anyone since the day she took her own life.”
I stare at her, confused. “But I thought she died in a boating accident.”
“Ach, now, I’ve said too much already.”
“Please tell me, Esther. Please,” I beg. “I’d like to know the truth.”
She’s silent for a moment, her eyes glassy as she stares out at the water. Finally, she says, “May rowed to the middle of the lough and lowered herself over the side. She’d filled her coat pockets with her heaviest paperweights. The weight of them sent her to the bottom. They didn’t find her body for days.”
My eyes fill with tears. It’s so awful. Poor Kit.
She pauses and looks at me. “I know, child. Terrible, terrible thing, but the poor soul was at her wits end. She just couldn’t go on. Kit went catatonic from the shock of it. He disappeared for days. Eventually his dad found him in the boathouse. Kit had smashed the front window by hurling the rest of May’s paperweights through it. They shattered on the beach. Sometimes you can still find shards among the pebbles. Afterwards, Kit’s dad fixed up the window and Kit started to hang bits of the broken paperweights in it. That’s how he started the mobile.”
“It’s so sad,” I say. “But maybe there’s something I can do. Maybe I could—”
“Amy.” Gramps reaches out and holds my hand firmly in his. “You can’t always fix people. Sometimes they’re too damaged to sticky-tape back together.”
“But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” I say, jutting out my chin stubbornly.