by Cathy Cole
Maybe he’s trying to teach me a lesson, she thought, trying to keep a lid on the feeling of panic roiling in her gut. Reminding me that I can’t take him for granted.
It was working.
Her phone buzzed again. Lila tapped the screen quickly, hoping for something else from Josh. But instead of a text, a new email was winking in her inbox.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Writing competition
Lila almost dropped her phone in shock. The writing competition. She’d forgotten all about it. They were emailing her.
For one blissful moment, she saw her future. Publication of her story, interviews in the local press, maybe a TV show. A publisher would snatch her up, offer her a six-figure publishing deal over champagne and oysters…
Dizzy with imagined glory, Lila opened the email.
Dear Entrant,
Thank you for entering our writing competition. I’m sorry to tell you that you weren’t successful this time. Keep writing!
Yours sincerely
Fiona Langland
Write a Rainbow
Lila groaned with disappointment and buried her head in her hands.
So much for that idea.
THIRTEEN
Lila spent the next morning listlessly poking around the shops, hanging around the pier in the hope of bumping into one of her friends and trying her best not to brood on the disappointment of her rejection email from Write a Rainbow. Clouds had been covering the sun for almost an hour now, spoiling her idea of a day people watching at the beach. She was sitting on the pier, moodily looking at some seagulls as they picked at an abandoned piece of bread, when she got a text from Josh.
Come over to mine? 5 Orlop Square. Grandpa will be there. Any time after 1 xx
The kisses were back, Lila was relieved to see. For a while there, she’d thought… But now Josh had messaged her, and she was feeling a hundred times better. Suddenly, there was a plan, and it was just as Josh had promised. She was going to meet his grandfather at last.
She checked her watch eagerly. It was already midday.
Can come now if U want? xxx
Josh’s answer came instantly.
Promise not to come before 1 xx
Lila wondered what Josh was doing until one. As far as she knew, the illustration course hadn’t suddenly sprouted a Thursday morning class.
Why not?
Just promise.
Lila couldn’t be bothered to argue.
Fine, I promise!!! See you after 1 xx
At least it gives me time to get my outfit right, she reminded herself as she sent the text.
She walked back home and spent a happy half hour poking through her wardrobe, trying to decide on an outfit that Josh would like and his grandfather would approve of. Jeans felt too scruffy. Most of her dresses had hems that were a little too short for tea with anyone’s grandfather. Lila settled at last on a white shirt dress that Eve must have left at her house. Since Eve was even taller than Lila, it fell to her knees and Lila felt pleased at how respectable she looked. She belted the dress with a thin braided brown belt that Polly had made for her, and brushed her long hair until it shined, before pulling it into a low tidy bun. Slipping on some simple blue ballet flats, Lila examined her reflection in the mirror critically. She didn’t normally look quite so polished, and she was pleased with the overall effect. Before grabbing her bag, Lila applied just a touch of brown mascara and some light pink lipgloss. Grandparents never liked much make-up.
Half past twelve. Dawdling through town again, Lila bought herself a sandwich and a drink for lunch and sat on the sea wall for a while. It was hard not to keep constantly checking her watch. Orlop Square, according to her phone, was deep in the warrens of the Old Town, a few twisting streets away from the Heartbeat. As she ate her sandwich, Lila conjured a hundred different scenarios for what she would find.
Josh’s grandpa would be in a wheelchair, a blue checked blanket over his skinny knees and the curtains drawn. “I can’t abide the light…” The house would be so tiny that she would have to duck through all the doors, and Orlop Square would be dark and dingy and damp. Josh would greet her at the corner, worried that she would judge him for where he lived. “Mind the rats, they come up the streets at high tide…”
It was five to one. Lila tried to brush away her nerves as she climbed off the sea wall, studied the map on her phone one more time, and headed for Orlop Square. The sun was starting to come out now, and she was sorry to leave it behind as she turned into the dark, narrow alleys of the Old Town.
The stones were cool here, the roads too narrow for anything bigger than a bicycle. Once or twice, Lila worried that she was lost – until she caught a glimpse of the sea on her left, through a gap in the buildings. She was going the right way after all.
The alley she was in suddenly widened.
She looked around at the little white-painted houses clustered around the cobbled space. An ornate iron water pump stood in the middle, as pretty as a picture.
She walked up to number five and knocked on the sea-green door. A tall man with dark brown hair, a soft flannel shirt and bare feet appeared in the doorway.
“I’m guessing you’re Lila. I’m Bill Taylor,” he said, and smiled. “Josh is in the garden. Come on through.”
Lila could feel herself staring. This guy was Josh’s grandfather? He looks the same age as Dad.
She followed him through the green door, staring at the pictures that hung on every wall inside the house. All of them were by Josh. She’d have known his style anywhere.
They passed through a wide living area full of pale grey sofas clustered around a large driftwood coffee table topped with glass and scattered with fishing magazines. Fishing rods stood in umbrella stands in almost every corner. The house seemed endless. Lila glanced back at the front door in confusion.
“I didn’t expect this place to be so big from the front,” she blurted.
“Appearances can be deceptive. This house is three cottages knocked into each other.”
They were passing through a wide, white-painted kitchen now with a gleaming skylight and plants hanging in baskets from the ceiling. Lila glimpsed Josh through the wide double doors leading out to the courtyard garden. The garden, at least, was small.
Lila felt her stomach dissolving as Josh hugged her and smiled. Everything was OK. She could hardly speak for relief. She sat in the courtyard garden in a pool of sunshine, holding his hand and staring around at the white-walled space with its climbing pink roses and herbs in pots as Josh’s grandfather emerged from the kitchen with a pot of tea and a large fruit cake.
“It’s officially too early for this, but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” Josh’s grandfather said, setting the tea and cake on the table.
Lila took a slice of cake. “It’s beautiful here,” she said, gazing around. “So peaceful.”
“Josh’s grandmother and I knocked these cottages through twenty years ago. No one wanted these houses back then. If the council had had its way, the whole of the Old Town would have been demolished and replaced by a shopping centre.”
“You’re very young to be a grandfather,” said Lila. “If you don’t mind me saying.”
Bill threw his head back and laughed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in years. You must bring Lila round for tea more often, Josh.”
Josh seemed edgy. He’s holding my hand, Lila reassured herself. It was probably strange for him, bringing someone back here. To her knowledge, none of her friends at school had set foot in this house. She took a sip of tea.
“Are you Josh’s mum’s dad, or his dad’s dad?” she asked.
She felt Josh’s hand tense in hers. “I don’t like fruit cake,” he said. “Do we have any biscuits, Grandpa?”
There you go again, Lila
thought as Josh stood up. Changing the subject. Her curiosity was well and truly piqued now. She followed Josh’s loping strides back into the house.
“Are you ever going to tell me about your parents?” she said as Josh rooted around in the kitchen cupboards for biscuits.
“Nothing to tell,” Josh grunted. “They aren’t here and Grandpa is. I know we’ve got chocolate biscuits somewhere. Where did you put the chocolate biscuits we picked up at the supermarket earlier, Grandpa?” he shouted back into the garden.
“Think they’re still in the car!” came the answering shout.
“Back in a minute,” said Josh, scooping up a set of car keys from the kitchen table.
“Josh—” Lila began, but the front door had banged shut.
What was the big deal about Josh’s parents? Were they dead, had they abandoned him? Lila felt restless with the sudden need to know the full story. She looked around the living room, the kitchen, poked her head through a door leading to a spacious downstairs loo with a large driftwood-framed mirror. There were no pictures of anyone that might have been Josh’s parents. Just Josh and his grandfather, and lots of Josh’s sketches in frames on every inch of wall space.
When she came to the foot of the stairs, Lila glanced back at the courtyard garden. It looked as if Josh’s grandfather was on the phone. It’s now or never, she thought. Taking the stairs two at a time, she peered around every unlocked door, hunting for … something. But it was as if Josh’s parents had never existed at all.
When she reached the room at the end of the corridor, she pushed it open cautiously. Even more pictures were hung on these walls. Canvases were stacked in every available inch of space; sketchbooks lay in untidy piles on a desk covered with school books and revision notes. But the thing that held Lila’s attention were the piles of shiny boxes covering every square inch of the polished wooden floor.
She picked up the boxes and studied them in astonishment. Video games, consoles, trainers, designer clothes. A brand-new TV, tablets and headphones, music decks. Everything still in its packaging, as fresh as if it had just been picked off a shop shelf.
Holding a console box in one hand and a boxed tablet in another, Lila sank on to the bed. This was clearly Josh’s room. There was no mistaking the sketchbooks, or the canvases. But what was with the boxes? This amounted to thousands of pounds’ worth of stuff that kids at school would have given their front teeth for. All unopened. All untouched.
Lila tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Josh wasn’t rich. At least, he never acted like he was rich. His clothes were old, he was always talking about how expensive his drawing materials were…
She thought she knew her boyfriend. Maybe she knew nothing at all.
FOURTEEN
“Wakey-wakey, Lila!”
Lila had been thinking about shiny unopened boxes as she ran her hands along the rails of Polly’s upcycled market clothes. She made an effort to focus on her friend. “What?”
Polly put her hands on her hips. “For the benefit of your clogged-up ears, I’ll ask for the third time: where’s Josh today?”
Why does everyone always ask me that? Lila thought. It was as if she was half a person somehow, not interesting enough by herself.
“Sketching somewhere,” she said, forcing a smile on to her face. “He’s meeting me on the beach in about an hour. I packed two towels, you’ll be pleased to know. Josh has this annoying habit of never bringing his own.”
“You two are so cute,” Polly said fondly.
Lila had an urge to change the subject. “Do you think this would suit me?” she asked, lifting a high-waisted grey jersey midi skirt from the rail and swirling it around herself.
“Gorgeous,” said Polly promptly.
“You would say that,” Lila pointed out, half smiling. “You’re selling it.”
Ollie appeared from the back of the stall, clothes over both arms. “She had to make enough money to fly us to America somehow,” he joked.
Lila put the skirt back and settled on a set of pretty bracelets that Polly had made from hardware washers, plaited on to a yellow cord so they chinked against each other. The sound reminded her of the clattering of the halyards on the boats down in the harbour, while the colour of the cord matched the bikini she was wearing under her dress. The sun was hot today, and liable to get hotter. Perfect weather for the beach. She and Josh would lie together and talk.
Lila had wanted to ask him about the boxes in his room yesterday, but her nerve failed her at the last minute. What if he’d stolen them? What if her boyfriend was a master shoplifter?
Put your imagination back in the box, Lila told herself. There will be a perfectly simple explanation. And today on the beach, she was determined to get it.
She arrived at the pier five minutes early and waited for him, eyeing the rapidly filling beach. Everyone was flooding to the sea today, pouring through the alleys of the Old Town, clambering over the rocks with heavy beach bags in their arms, setting up barbecues and tents and deckchairs. If Josh was late, they wouldn’t get their favourite spot by the pier struts.
Half an hour passed. The sand was now thick with screaming children. Even the less popular spots – those bits right by the water’s edge that were always covered in seaweed, and the waspy stretches near the beach bins – were filling up. Lila called Josh for what felt like the hundredth time, but got no answer. She felt hot and frustrated. Where was he? She didn’t appreciate being stood up on the hottest day of the year.
After ten more minutes, Lila conference-called her girlfriends.
“I need you at the beach, guys,” she pleaded. “Josh has stood me up.”
“That doesn’t sound like Josh,” Rhi said in surprise.
“Are you sure you’re at the right place?” Polly checked.
“We always meet at the pier,” Lila said.
“How adorable,” Eve drawled. “We really are little creatures of habit, aren’t we?”
Lila was in no mood for Eve’s teasing. “Just get here, will you?” she demanded. “The town beach is packed but the secret cove might be better. I’ll see you there, OK?”
Where are you? Waited for nearly an HOUR. Gone to the cove with the others.
Fuming, Lila sent her text to Josh and set off along Marine Parade towards the clock tower and the path to the secret cove, weaving her way through the day tripping crowds with their ice creams and sunglasses and shrimping nets. If he thinks I’ll waste the whole afternoon waiting for him, he can forget it.
Just as Lila had hoped, the secret cove was much emptier. With no refreshment stands or toilets, it wasn’t popular among young families or the old folks who preferred the deckchairs and the action of the main beach. Day trippers tended not to know about it at all. That just left a few groups of local teenagers, half of them fit-looking boys in brightly coloured shorts and early summer tans that identified them as surfers. In her present mood, that suited Lila just fine.
The others arrived soon after.
“I need a swim,” said Polly longingly, setting her pretty floral beach bag down beside Lila’s and eyeing the glittering water.
“This isn’t the Mediterranean, you know,” Eve observed, laying out her towel neatly by the rocks. “And salt water plays havoc with your hair.”
“I don’t care.” Polly kicked off her flip-flops and wriggled out of her beach dress. “Who’s coming?”
Two boys walked past with surfboards under their arms.
“We’re just enjoying the view,” Rhi giggled, setting her hat on her black curls.
One of the boys glanced back. “Keep looking, babe,” he grinned at Rhi.
Rhi covered her face as Eve and Lila both laughed. “They weren’t supposed to hear that,” she squeaked.
Lila felt a rush of recklessness. “Hey!” she called after the surfers. “We like your shorts.”
The boys stopped. The one who’d winked at Rhi had big brown eyes that flashed with amusement. “They’re occupied at the moment,” he said.
“I noticed,” Lila smiled.
“Bad girl,” Eve murmured as the boys headed on towards the water, their gaze flashing back towards Lila. “What would Josh say?”
“Josh isn’t here. He can say what he likes.” Lila considered the water and the gleaming brown skin of the surfers as they waded into the sea. “You know what? I might join Polly in the waves after all.”
She mussed her hair and adjusted the straps on her yellow bikini. Then she set her shoulders and sauntered into the sea. Josh Taylor wasn’t the only boy in the world.
“It’s gorgeous in here, Lila!” Polly called, beckoning Lila into the deeper stretches of water around the rocks.
“And it just got gorgeouser!” yelled the brown-eyed surfer, to the intense amusement of his blonder friend.
The water was cold, shocking Lila as she plunged in to twist through the waves like an otter and turn her face up to the sun. Through salt-soaked eyelashes, she kept the surfer boys in her line of sight. The waves weren’t great today, but the boys were doing their best. The brown-eyed one even managed to stand up for a while, until he glanced around at Lila and lost his balance. Lila couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
“You think it’s funny, do you?” challenged the surfer, grinning. He paddled out to where Lila and Polly lay floating on the surface of the sea. “Why don’t you give it a go?”
Lila’d been quite good at surfing on a holiday she’d been on with her parents the previous summer, but she saw no reason to tell this guy that.
“What do I do?” she said innocently.
The boy guided her on to his board, his hands lingering a little too long around her waist. “Paddle out until you catch a wave. Then stand up.”
