Читать книгу Don't Tell Him I'm a Mermaid - Laura Steven - Страница 10
ОглавлениеThe next day was a Saturday. A cold, gloomy winter Saturday, with the sky dark and ominous, and the sea gunmetal-grey. A wonderful Saturday to dress up as a haddock and hand out leaflets on a wet promenade, Molly was sure everyone would agree. (By everyone, she obviously meant madmen, axe murderers, and Margot, who was somewhere between the two.)
With very few passers-by to harass into taking menus, Molly kept gazing out at the choppy sea. Not twelve hours earlier, she’d seen the Waverley twins swimming out there in their natural form: as mermaids. She wasn’t entirely sure whether they’d seen her or not. She was equally uncertain whether it would matter if they had. After all, mermaids didn’t need to keep their identities hidden from each other – just from prying humans.
Either way, the new kids in school had suddenly become a lot more interesting. For the first time in her life, Molly couldn’t wait until Monday, when she’d get to see them again – if only from afar.
Thankfully, she had an entertaining way of passing the time. Eddie of the Ears was helping out on her shift. At first he had tried to purchase a giant fish costume online, to no avail. When he asked where he could buy one, Molly had advised him that sadly the haddock suit was an old family heirloom and nobody was quite sure where it had come from.
So, Eddie being Eddie, he had taken to the task with aplomb and made his very own cod suit, using an ingenious combination of grey binbags, duct tape and strips of tinfoil cut into scales. When his mum dropped him off outside the shop and he rustled over to Molly with a dopey grin on his pale, freckly face, Molly thought her appendix might rupture from laughter. He had even donned a tinsel scarf for a festive twist.
There was nobody quite like Eddie of the Ears. And that is precisely why they’d named a sausage after him.
‘You know, you really suit being a cod,’ Molly said without sarcasm, for maybe the first time in her life.
‘Thank you,’ Eddie said sincerely. ‘I feel very at home in this binbag. And not at all sticky and disgusting.’
‘It is a gruelling experience. But you get used to it.’
Scratching at his tummy, he grimaced. ‘I have all new respect for you, Molly Seabrook.’
Molly clutched her hand (well, fin) to her chest in faux-offence. ‘You mean you didn’t respect me before?’
‘Not at all. You had a scrambled-egg cake for your birthday, for one thing.’
Molly burst out laughing. Minnie had forgotten to include the eggs in the batter, and they’d ended up forming an omelette-like crust on top of the cake. Harrowing. ‘Fair point well made.’
The problem with handing out leaflets in early December was that the promenade was all but abandoned for the year. As a result, Molly and Eddie had to fight to the death for customers. At one point Eddie even rugby-tackled Molly to the ground so that he could give a flyer to a disgruntled old man ahead of her. Despite having the wind knocked out of her, and a not un-heavy cod boy on top of her, Molly’s sides ached from laughing.
While Eddie was still perched triumphantly on Molly, Ada appeared around the corner, bundled up in her winter coat. Climbing breathlessly to their feet, Molly and Eddie panted as though they’d just run a gauntlet against several Roman gladiators and somehow emerged victorious.
‘Hey,’ Molly said, brushing wet dirt off her fishy behind. ‘Where’s Pete?’
Ada rolled her eyes so hard it caused a small earthquake. ‘Just take a random guess, Molly. Where on earth could Pete be on a Saturday morning?’
‘Singing to the homeless? Volunteering at a soup kitchen? Washing graffiti off the town hall?’
‘Close.’
‘He’s playing football, isn’t he.’ Molly winced in sympathy, although Ada had known what she was getting into when she seduced a guy called Penalty.
‘Yep.’ Ada jangled the coins in her trackie bottoms. ‘Although let’s be real, I’d rather be hanging out with you guys anyway. Fish costumes or not. Want to get some ice cream? Steve looks miserable.’
Little Marmouth had to be the only place in the northern hemisphere where they still sold ice cream in winter. Molly looked over to the kiosk for the first time all day, which was a first. Usually her eyes just wandered over there of their own accord. But with Eddie of the Ears here to distract her, she found herself not caring whether or not Fit Steve was looking at her.
‘Excuse me,’ Eddie said indignantly to Ada, flicking the end of his tinsel scarf over his shoulder. ‘We’re working here.’
Ada frowned at his costume as though only just registering that he was wearing it. ‘Can’t you just ask Molly’s mum for a break? Neither of you is being paid.’
Eddie folded his fins. ‘It’s a matter of pride, Ada.’
Ada sniggered. ‘Is that what they call it?’
‘You’re just jealous that you’re not dressed as a fish,’ Eddie said.
‘Fine, fine, I’m extremely jealous and left out. Literally all I want in my life is to dress as a fish, and you two are a living reminder of this personal failure.’
Eddie triumphantly held up his pointy fins as though they were pistols. ‘Knew it.’
‘But I also want ice cream.’ Another jangle of the coins. ‘Shall we?’
Two fish and a tracksuit sauntered over to the ice-cream kiosk. (Molly thought this sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. Or a very strange poem.) Fit Steve looked up from his phone. If he was surprised to see the peculiar trio, he didn’t show it. Maybe he was just used to Molly’s very particular brand of weird.
‘Hello, Steven,’ Molly said, just to really hammer the weirdness home.
He raised a very beautiful dark eyebrow. ‘Nobody has called me Steven since 2007.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Molly said earnestly, trying to mirror his seriousness. ‘It’s a lovely name.’
Eddie snorted. ‘All right, Grandma Molly.’
‘Shall I fetch your Zimmer frame?’ Ada chimed in. ‘Perhaps your knitting needles?’
Eddie hunched himself over and clutched at his back, putting on a thick Scottish accent. ‘Och aye the noo, who’d like a wee scone?’
Ada and Molly fell about laughing, while Fit Steve simply said, ‘You guys are like, fifty per cent weirder outside of school.’
‘Only fifty?’ Eddie asked. ‘We must try harder.’
There was an elderly couple nearby, stringing Christmas lights around a sad-looking fir tree. The high street was much busier than the promenade, with lots of people carrying shopping bags. Molly could smell the mulled wine stall that was there all through December, and for the first year ever, she actually thought it smelled rather good. Not that she’d tell her mother that.
‘Are you seeing Felicity later?’ Ada asked Fit Steve after he’d started scooping their ice creams. Molly found herself staring at his hands in a probably very gross way. Why had she never noticed how nice his hands were before?
‘Uh, yeah. Yep. Think so.’
‘I like Felicity,’ Molly said. ‘She’s nice. Like mushy peas.’ For god’s sake! Why did she have to relate everything to chip-shop items? Or comment on how much she liked his girlfriend?
Fit Steve handed Molly a cone. He’d given her an extra scoop, which in Molly’s eyes was essentially a marriage proposal. ‘Mmmm, yeah. Anyway. Oh, er. Here she is.’
Molly’s heart sank as she saw Felicity sidling over to them. It wasn’t that she necessarily hated Felicity. Not like she used to. It was just that she always had to be a bit on edge around her, in case she let something slip about Molly’s tail – accidentally or otherwise.
‘Hey, babe.’ Felicity leaned over the counter and pecked Steve on the mouth. ‘Hey, Aydz. Hey . . . you guys.’ Her nose wrinkled at the sight – and probably smell – of Molly and Eddie in their fish costumes.
‘We were just getting ice cream,’ Molly said, trying to keep her tone light despite the fact that her speeding pulse sounded like a malfunctioning steam engine. Every time Felicity was around, she was painfully aware of how quickly and easily her life could be ruined. She had to avoid doing anything to annoy her, and if that involved making conversation like a total simpleton, so be it.
Felicity nodded. ‘I see that.’
Molly slurped her ice cream in an ugly way, to make it very clear that she was not trying to steal Felicity’s man. ‘Raspberry ripple.’
‘So the Waverleys, huh?’ Felicity said, grabbing a Flake from the glass jar and crunching into it.
‘Yeah,’ Molly blurted out, before realising she had nothing else to add that was not embargoed information regarding their tail status. ‘Er . . . twins.’
‘Do you think they seem cool?’ Ada asked, as though Felicity were the oracle of coolness. ‘Like, should we ask them to eat lunch with us?’
‘Finn plays rugby,’ Fit Steve said, as though this settled matters. Football players disliked rugby players for reasons Molly could not begin to understand.
‘That’s true, babe,’ Felicity said thoughtfully. ‘And I think Serena is a bit . . . you know . . .’
‘Vikingy?’ Molly suggested.
‘Why did the Viking buy a second-hand boat?’ Eddie asked. Everyone looked at him blankly. Barely containing his grin, he added, ‘He probably couldn’t a-fjord a new one.’
The appalled silence that followed was probably funnier than the joke itself. Molly couldn’t contain her laughter. She choked so violently on her ice-cream cone that she thought she might be sick. Fit Steve and Felicity, who were clearly humourless beings, stared at her in bafflement.
Ada came to the rescue. ‘Mol, I think your mum is shouting. Shall we go?’
‘Oh. OK.’ Molly swallowed the offending mouthful of cone. ‘Well, bye then.’
As Molly, Ada and Eddie wandered back to the shop, she couldn’t help thinking that hanging out with the Populars wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. They weren’t funny or weird, for a start, and the added tension with Felicity made it impossible to relax and chat like a normal human being.
It was all more hassle than it was worth. The original goal behind infiltrating the Populars was to make Fit Steve fall madly, passionately in love with her. But now that he was with Felicity, it felt a little pointless.
After Eddie’s mum came to pick him up, Ada hung around and chatted with Molly on the pier for a while. They talked about school, and Penalty Pete, and Minnie’s current obsession with death metal, which she had discovered on Margot’s phone.
The conversation moved from Minnie’s headbanging to the Populars.
‘Do you think Felicity likes me?’ Ada was perched on the windowsill of the fish ’n’ chip shop, shivering despite her thick coat. ‘Properly likes me, I mean?’
‘Um, I think so?’ Molly said. ‘Why?’
‘It’s just . . . I don’t know, she’s seemed a little off lately.’ Ada’s voice was soft and unsure. ‘I feel like I’ve annoyed her or something. I just hate feeling like people are angry with me, you know?’
Molly knew exactly why Felicity was off: her mum’s sickness. But she couldn’t tell Ada that. It was part of the pact. Even though Ada would never tell anyone, Molly couldn’t break her promise without Felicity breaking hers.
All Molly knew was that she had too many secrets from her best friend, and she was getting tired of trying to keep them.
