Wow, I thought as I clicked my phone shut. Relationships really are a rollercoaster. On-off, on-off, up-down, up-down. But did I make a mistake saying I’d see him? No. Why shouldn’t I? Luke had just made his feelings very clear, and if he wasn’t prepared to talk and listen, what could I do? I wasn’t going to spend the week pining over him. I’d spent too many weeks doing that when I could have been having a life. I’m a free agent. No ties. No commitments, and I have two choices. Sit down here and mope about Luke, who may never want to see me again. Or go out and have some fun with a guy who is great company.
I knew which option I was going to take.
Texts to TJ from the girls about the Luke/Ollie situation:
GIVE OLLIE ANOTHER GO. Lucy
FIND A NEW BOY, BET THERE ARE LOADS DOWN THERE. Nesta
DON’T GIVE UP ON LUKE. THINK HE OVERREACTED COS LIKES U V. MUCH. KEEP AN OPEN MIND. AND DON’T FORGET OUR MSN CHAT ROOM! Izzie
THANKS A LOT, GUYS. NOW I AM REALLY CONFUSED! TJ
‘So what’s it like?’ asked Izzie when I called her on Monday evening.
‘Amazing,’ I replied. ‘Le Anglaisie paradise. I love it down here. You’ve got to come down some time.’
‘How’s your dad?’
‘Good. He looks a lot better. He’s not venturing too far from the cottage, but he’s happy enough just hanging out in the front garden or watching one of the old movies we found in the TV cabinet. The cottage looks right out on the water and is so peaceful. What have you guys been up to? I sooo wish you were all here. I miss you like mad.’
‘Oh, same old, same old,’ Izzie replied. ‘I wish I was with you too. Nesta and William are inseparable. They went to Hampton Court today with Lucy and Tony and they did invite me along, but no way was I going to go and be the sad singleton. Can you imagine a day out watching those guys fawning over each other? No thanks. Vomitous.’
‘I thought Tony was revising for his exams?’
‘Yeah, he is most of the time so Lucy will be around tomorrow and later in the week. I don’t mind that much. I’ve got loads to do. I went over to see Ben and the boys from the band today. We went over some new material. Have you seen Ollie?’
‘Yes. Today. Paul went back to Bristol last night as he’s got a decorating job, so Mum and Dad are really pleased that I know someone down here who can show me around. That way, they can relax and be close to the house and not worry about me getting bored. It’s been amazingly hot down here. Everyone says it’s like August weather. We’ve been to some fabtastic places already and I’ve taken a ton of photos to show you.’
‘And is Ollie Wollie behaving?’
‘Not a wandering hand in sight.’
‘Cool. Keep me updated and don’t forget our MSN! I’ve set it up and I’m the only one who’s been in it so far! I’ve spoken to Lucy and Nesta and we’ve agreed that for the rest of the half-term we’ll go in there at precisely six o’clock every day for a proper catch-up. Be there or be square.’
‘Will do.’
After I’d hung up, I checked in with Izzie in the chat room but we’d already said most of what we wanted on the phone so I didn’t stay on too long. I did promise that I’d send her some pics though so I went through the ones I’d taken on Mum’s digital camera.
Ollie had shown up after breakfast this morning in a bright turquoise Beetle car and, after I’d introduced him to Mum and Dad, he told me that I was going to be a tourist for the week and he was going to be my guide. He drove me all over the peninsula to give me an overview and it was totally amazing. On one side were the twin villages of Kingsand and Cawsand. They were small fishing villages with cobbled backstreets and a maze of pretty-coloured cottages painted in pink, yellow and blue. There was one road that wound its way through the villages and it was so narrow that there was barely enough room for one car. I loved it. In each village there was a bay that was easy to get to so there were lots of families with kids splashing in the water and enjoying the unseasonably hot weather.
On the other side of the peninsula was Whitsand Bay, where Paul and I had stopped on Saturday afternoon. Ollie took me to a café called the View, which was on top of the cliff up there. It was so named because the outlook from the picnic tables at the front was stunning: just ocean and sky as far as the eye could see. It was completely different to the other side of the penninsula as it was more rugged and unspoiled and people could only get down the cliff side to the beach via a narrow, dusty path through boulders and shrubs.
After Whitsand Bay, we drove down to a place called Cremyl where there was a pub and a foot ferry that took people over to Plymouth. Near there were acres of parkland spread out on a slope overlooking Plymouth, and at the top of a hill stood a grand old house called Mount Edgecumbe that was open to the public.
Ollie was the perfect gentleman all day. Held my hand. Kissed my cheek. No funny business at all, and I began to wonder if I’d imagined the octopus incident in the limo up in London.
The biggest revelation, however, was when he took me to see his house. I thought it would be like one of the houses in Kingsand village, only maybe a little bigger. Hah! More like a palace. He lives in a place called Barton Hall and you have to drive through huge wrought iron gates and up a long lane past trees to get there and, when you do, wow! It’s not big, it’s enormous! Like a posh old hotel. It has several reception rooms, a library, loads of bedrooms (I lost count), tennis courts, a swimming pool and his dad has a studio down by a lake at the back. The whole place was decorated beautifully – every room like a page out of one of Nesta’s mum’s interior magazines, with lovely antiques and huge vases full of gorgeous flowers.
His dad was up in London, but I met his mum, who is blonde and beautiful, and I saw pictures of his sister Lia, who is a year younger than me. Like her mum, she is also very pretty. I hoped I’d get to meet her later on in the week as when we were up at the house she was out somewhere with her boyfriend, Squidge. Ollie told me that Lia had changed from a school in London to a local one because she loved the area so much and wanted to be at home. I asked why he hadn’t done the same, but he said that he liked being in London too much and would miss his mates.
I also met the family pets: Max and Molly, two gorgeous red setters, Ug, the Vietnamese pot-bellied pig, and the latest addition, Fish, the ginger kitten. Ollie told me that Fish followed Max and Molly everywhere and thought that he was a red setter too. I thought it must be very confusing for poor Fish, not only thinking he was a dog but having to answer to the name Fish!
‘You have very strange pets,’ I said.
‘Thank you,’ said Ollie.
‘Why did you call your poor cat Fish?’
‘Not my idea. Squidge’s mate Mac named him. Apparently he used to have a cat called Rover.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Kind of follows.’
‘All Lia’s mates are mad,’ said Ollie.
I thought they sounded like fun. It made me realise that I was missing mine even though it had only been three days since I last saw them, which is why I’d called Izzie for a long natter.
Tuesday 6 p.m.
TJ: Hi guys. S’me. Been exploring with Ollie at old house called Mount Edgecumbe today. Fab. So many interesting paintings and antiques to look at.
Izzie: Blarrgghh. Sounds v. boring. Heard from Luke?
TJ: Nope. Sad that he and I aren’t on speaking terms, because exploring old houses and imagining who’d lived there and what they were like is one of his favourite things, too. I made myself put him out of my mind, though. I was there with Ollie and had to stop comparing them.
Izzie: Yep. I agree. Love the one you’re with. Which in my case is no one. Boo hoo.
Nesta: How’s the snog scale with O?
Izzie: And any spare decent boys down there in case I ever go there?
TJ: O kissed me properly before he dropped me off at the cottage. I can tell that he’s making a big effort to hold back and not be pushy. Still not sure what I feel about him, though.
Nesta: Look on i
t all as good practice. It’s good for your confidence to flirt and spend time with boys who aren’t the great love of your life, as you learn something from everyone.
TJ: What u all be up to?
Lucy: Hanging out with Tony. Movies. Mooching.
Nesta: Hanging out with William. Movies. Mooching.
Izzie: God help me. Come home, TJ. All is forgiven.
Wednesday 6 p.m.
Nesta: Hi guys. How are you all?
Lucy: Fabola.
Izzie: Been down Camden with Lucy. What you bin up 2, TJ?
TJ: O and I got the foot ferry over to Plymouth today. Cool harbour there. Also an aquarium but there was a huge queue for that so we just mooched about the shops and sat about outside cafés, drinking Cokes and watching the boats and the world go by. Felt like holiday time. Sun shining. O is great company. Wonder why I think about grumpy old Luke when a boy like Ollie is interested in me. I’m starting to like him more and more.
Nesta: Be careful. I still think that boy is a player!
Lucy: Don’t worry, TJ. You’re not stupid. Enjoy. It’s fab weather up here. Hot, hot, hot.
TJ: Here too. Lovely jubbly.
Thursday 6 pm.
TJ: Oh God. Iz, Luce, Nesta are you there?
Izzie: Only me. Lucy and Nesta out with the boys somewhere. Tell me all.
TJ: I think that Ollie has put a spell on me as I can’t stop thinking about him and Luke is beginning to fade into the distance. I even turned my mobile off as I’d been keeping it on all day in case Luke rang, but as the week has gone on, I don’t know if I care. I realised that I don’t even know Luke that well. We haven’t actually spent much time together talking, not the way that Ollie and I have in the last few days. All I know about Luke is that he’s into history, wants to be an actor, has a strict dad and . . .
Izzie: When he looks into your eyes, your stomach lurches and when he kisses you, you turn to jelly. You might have forgotten but I haven’t.
TJ: Yeah, but even the memory of that is beginning to fade. Ollie is taking over.
Izzie: Hhhmmm.
TJ: What’s that supposed to mean?
Izzie: Means . . . hhmmm.
TJ: That’s no help!
Izzie: Sorry. Feeling sleepy. It’s sooo hoooot up here . . . Look TJ, don’t worry. You don’t have to make up your mind today. You can decide later. For now, just enjoy being down there.
On Friday morning, Ollie drove us along the Whitsand coastline then out towards Liskard.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘Surprise,’ he said.
After about five minutes, he turned off the main road and the car bumped up a dusty lane to a car park area under some trees.
We got out and walked towards what looked like a small zoo.
‘Owl sanctuary,’ said Ollie, grinning. ‘It’s one of my favourite places.’
It soon became one of mine too. We paid three pounds each to a man in a little shed and then set off into the sanctuary.
There were large cages on either side of a walkway and inside each one were different species of owls staring out at us. Barn owls, tawny owls, snowy owls, Siberian Eagle owls. All sorts, all sizes. They were so funny. All of them had beautiful feathers, sharp beaks and some had the most vivid, wide orange or yellow eyes, but what made me laugh about them was their expressions. Some of them looked sooooo haughty, others looked sooooo cross and others looked stoned out of their heads and like they were having such a hard time keeping their heavy-lidded eyes open that they were going to fall asleep and drop off their perch at any moment.
‘That one looks like our PSHE teacher, Miss Watkins, when she’s not pleased with our homework,’ I said, as a tawny owl regarded me with utter disdain. It blinked its eyes and turned its head away as if it was so bored looking at me it could no longer bear it.
‘I know,’ said Ollie. ‘They’re hysterical, aren’t they? I think owls must be my favourite bird.’
‘A while back,’ said the keeper, who had come out of his shed and was walking along behind us, ‘everyone wanted one. It was after the Harry Potter books came out. He’s got one, hasn’t he?’
‘A snowy owl,’ I said.
‘That’s it,’ said the keeper. ‘Anyway, parents were calling from all over the country. Oo, my Nigel has got to have a snowy owl for Christmas. Oo, my Arabella has to have one for her birthday. Not from me, I told ’em. See, I know what’s involved looking after an owl. They’re not toys. A lot of kids that got ’em from other places soon lost interest after a few weeks, and who was supposed to feed and look after the poor thing then, eh? We’ve had a few brought here that were abandoned after some spoiled kid had ’ad enough and realised that owls don’t like to be cuddled.’
Ollie looked sheepish for a moment. ‘I wanted one when I was eight,’ he whispered when the keeper had moved on. ‘Dad wouldn’t let me have one, though, as I think he knew that they take some looking after. At the time I was so upset as I imagined that the owl would fly to my school in London with post from my mum and dad, but that’s only in the books and movies, isn’t it?’
‘Guess so,’ I said. ‘I read the books when I was eight, too. I wanted a dragon and even phoned a load of pet shops to see if anyone had them. I thought they were real.’
At the end of our visit, the keeper brought out four baby owls and put them in my hands. They were so gorgeous, like little balls of fluff, and Ollie took a picture of them. He went totally soppy over them and held them for ages. Luke was so wrong about Ollie, I thought, as I watched him stroke the baby owls. Calling him ‘my rich boyfriend’ as if he showed off about it or something. He wasn’t like that at all. So yes, he lived in a fab place, but he wasn’t all swanky about it. In fact, when we got back in the car, he told me that what impresses him most in the whole world are natural things like animals or birds or fish. As we drove away, I got the feeling that I’d just met another of Ollie’s sub-personalities. A gentle one with a great love of nature.
After the sanctuary, we drove back towards Whitsand where, after a short distance, Ollie turned off the main road again.
‘Where to this time?’ I asked. ‘Another surprise?’
‘Lunch,’ he said and pointed down to the right.
‘Wow. Now that looks like it’s straight out of Harry Potter,’ I said as a grey stone castle, complete with turrets, came into view.
‘Whitsand Bay Hotel,’ he said. ‘I thought we could get a bite there and then go down to the beach.’
I nodded. ‘Sounds great.’ I felt so happy. I was falling in love with the area. And after seeing how sweet Ollie was with the owls, I was falling in love with him.
Already I was having fantasies about owning a cottage down here when I was older. I could come down to write or paint. Of course, all my friends would be here too with their various partners and kids and dogs, cats, goats and chickens, and we’d sit and watch the sunrises and sunsets and laugh and live happily ever after.
The inside of the hotel reeked of history, with oak-panelled walls, old paintings, parquet flooring and huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a garden planted with shrubs and palm plants on terraces that led down to the sea.
Ollie ordered cheese and tomato sandwiches and Cokes from the bar then found us a table outside as the sun was shining brightly and we didn’t want to miss a moment of it. I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes to soak up the rays.
‘This place has to be as close to heaven as you could find,’ I said after the waiter had brought us our sandwiches. ‘Not too busy or touristy. The most divine views. I don’t know. There’s something about the place. I feel so happy here. Peaceful.’
Ollie nodded. ‘That’s what Mum and Dad say. That’s why they moved here. And Lia. She loves it too.’
‘I can see why,’ I said, and pulled my phone out. When I turned it on, it bleeped that I had a message waiting.
‘Oh, leave it,’ said Ollie. ‘Whatever it is, it can probably wait. I’m going back to London thi
s evening so we have to make the most of our last few hours here together.’
I smiled back at him. ‘Yeah. Later,’ I said, and put the phone away. I had promised that I’d let Mum know what time I’d be back, but it felt like nothing mattered. The sun was shining. The sea in front of us was twinkling with silver sparkles. The world felt at peace.
After we’d eaten our lunch,we went for a walk on the beach in front of the hotel. We held hands and paddled in the sea and then lay on our backs in the sand for a while and talked and cuddled. I turned to look at Ollie’s handsome face and traced his profile with my index finger.
‘I feel very happy,’ I said.
He caught my finger with his lips and kissed it. ‘Me too, TJ Watts. I think you are one of the coolest girls I have ever met.’
And then he leaned over and kissed me on the lips.
When Ollie kissed me this time, it felt real. Like he meant it. And for me there was no more thinking about his technique or paintbrushes or phone calls I had to make later. I felt totally in the present and only aware of the sensation of his lips on mine.
Around four, Ollie dropped me back at the cottage as he had to go and catch the train back to London. Plus I had promised that I’d go for a walk with Dad and Mojo before supper.
After a goodbye snogathon in the car and promises to see each other in London, I got out and pretty much skipped down the lane to Rose Harbour. It had been the best day ever and I was feeling really good about being with Ollie. I haven’t felt this happy in ages, I thought, as I went to open the front door.
It wouldn’t open.
I tried again but the door was locked.
I knocked but no answer.
I peered through the window, but couldn’t see any sign of Mum or Dad. Only Mojo at the window, barking his objection at being left inside. Where could they be, I wondered? Maybe Mum had left the key for me in our secret hiding place under the pot of geraniums and then gone into the village for supplies, but then why hadn’t they taken Mojo? Maybe Marie had come over from Devon and taken them off somewhere? But no, she wouldn’t have. I’d spoken to her on Monday night and I knew she had to work and make up for the time she had off when she was up in London after Dad’s stroke.
Mates, Dates and Sizzling Summers Page 10
