by FJ Campbell
‘Do you want to talk about him?’ said Milo softly.
She brushed the tears away. ‘How could he do this to me? He’s making me cry – me. He’s so selfish. I know it turned out OK…’
‘Better than OK, wasn’t I?’ said Milo, pretending to have hurt feelings.
‘Yes, yes, better than OK, you’re amazing, blah blah. But what am I supposed to do now? The worst bit is, he didn’t even have the decency to come and find me and explain about the agent. How can I be pleased for him now, if he gets a big break, when I know he ditched me and left me in the shit?’
‘It’s just how he is.’
‘Don’t say, “I told you so.”’
‘I wasn’t going to. But you have to understand this about him – he’s totally selfish. He’s also very impulsive, like a little boy really. He wants something, he takes it. Doesn’t stop to think what it means to other people. I’ve seen this sort of thing with him over and over again.’ Milo paused, like he’d said too much. He frowned. ‘I don’t like the way he behaves, and he knows it, so we keep our distance from each other now.’
‘Now? How do you know him so well?’
‘Don’t know if I should say. Ages ago I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone.’
‘Oh, come on, please,’ she wheedled, taking another swig of the champagne.
‘OK, well, I suppose I don’t really give a shit about keeping his secrets safe when he’s been such a knob. Don’t tell him I told you, but he was actually born in Weatherbury.’
‘London Boy? I don’t believe you.’
‘It’s true. Scout’s honour. His mum and dad – not the duke, not his real dad – they were on holiday on the coast when she went into labour with him. There was this cottage hospital in Weatherbury back then, my mum used to volunteer there, and that’s where Zack’s mum gave birth to him. My mum remembered because Zack’s mum was such a pain in the neck. Of course, later, it turns out that the duke went to The Island and so Zack’s name was put down. It’s why Madame Smythe never comes to any school events; she can’t bear to remember the awfulness of giving birth in the middle of nowhere.’
‘But why does Zack find that so embarrassing? It was just a mistake of geography.’
‘Well, after that experience, Madame Smythe was never to be seen out of the city. But her husband, he was a doctor in London, and he loved the countryside so he spent as much of his holidays at various places on the coast near here – Studland, Lulwind, Kimmeridge. He used to bring Zack down and they spent a part of every school holidays here with us.’
‘Wait – with you?’ Beth was astounded.
‘Yep. Dr Smythe used to take the two of us fishing. And he was a massive rugby fan. He taught us both how to play, and we watched club matches together. Zack and I were like brothers. He was a great laugh, a complete show-off, but nice. Used to get us into trouble, and I’d get us out of it with my angelic face…’
‘Are you talking about your best friend… is this the one you told me about? You said you ran away to his house. Zack? Zachary Smythe was your best friend?’ Beth’s mouth was open. ‘I can’t even picture this. How is this possible?’
Milo shrugged. ‘We were little kids. This is when we were eight, nine years old. Dr Smythe gave my parents the idea of me applying to the school too. My mum took a full-time job here as a music teacher and my dad as the groundsman. That way they got a reduction in the fees.
‘Anyway, Zack was at a posh prep school in London and he started acting more and more conceited. He found out about his real father, and he behaved awfully to Dr Smythe, who left around then – he’d had enough of his wife and son treating him like dirt. He went to Africa to work for Médecins Sans Frontières. By the time Zack came to The Island, the year after me, he was this whole new person. He told me not to hang around with his friends, which was fine by me, and he made me swear I’d never tell anyone we’d been friends.’
‘Or what?’
‘Or nothing. I wasn’t that bothered if he wanted to hide it from everyone.’
‘That’s incredibly sad and also incredibly funny.’
‘Yah, isn’t it indeed?’ Milo did such an accurate impression of Zack that they both laughed until their cheeks hurt.
‘I am so drunk,’ giggled Beth, ‘I feel like I could do anything now.’ She snuggled in closer to Milo and put her arm over his chest. For someone so large and solid, he was surprisingly soft and warm. ‘This place is lovely. You won’t ever tell anyone else about it, will you?’
‘No. And you? You can keep it a secret from Zack?’
‘Absolutely. He’d probably only want to come here and…’ She tailed off.
She felt Milo tense, but his voice stayed level. ‘It’s OK, you can say it, you know.’
‘I don’t really want to talk to you about it.’
He said slowly, ‘Fair enough. But are you OK? I mean, I’m not going to get all heavy about it again. But he hasn’t… made you do anything you didn’t want to, has he?’
‘No, God, of course not.’ She dug him in the ribs. They were silent for a few minutes and Beth caught herself thinking – Has he? She lay mulling it over, the thought drifting through her like a dream, and she gave in to her tiredness and fell asleep.
Milo felt her body relax against his and her breaths become slow and even. At one point she half woke, and she sighed and whispered, ‘I wish we could stay here forever, Milo.’
He whispered back, ‘I wish you would stop messing with my head, Beth.’ But she was well away.
*
The next morning, Milo was woken by Beth shaking him. She stretched, shivered with cold and checked her watch.
‘Half six. I have to get back to my house before they notice I didn’t sleep there.’
‘Mmmm?’ Milo took a few moments to realise where he was. His throat was dry and his mouth tasted of champagne. ‘Why are my eyes throbbing?’ he groaned, holding his hand against his forehead. He turned his face away from Beth so she wouldn’t smell his breath.
‘Because you’re a lightweight. Come on, let’s go.’
They left the garden and Milo locked the gate.
‘Ah, I nearly forgot to tell you. I didn’t want to worry you before the play, and then I forgot last night, what with all the extra… um… acting I had to do. But Edward told me that Zack said something very strange to him a few weeks ago. He said something about your family being ‘interesting’. Did you tell him about your mum and dad?’
Beth frowned. ‘No. You’re the only one that knows. But his mum was giving me weird looks at half-term. Shit. Why would he say that? D’you think he knows?’
‘Maybe. Or maybe he’s bullshitting. Are you seeing him in the holidays?’
‘Yep, well, he’s supposed to be coming down to Cornwall next weekend. Livvy, Mel and I are staying in a flat near the beach and Justin Ravensdale and Zack are coming for the second week. If I don’t decide to tell him to take a long walk off a short pier, that is.’
Milo suggested that she should try to suss out what he knew and didn’t know. He told Beth he’d be in Cornwall too; he and Justin were representing Weatherbury Hall at a schools’ rugby training camp in Truro from Monday until Saturday and at the end of the week a squad for the South would be selected. They said a hurried goodbye and Beth ran off.
Milo trudged down to his cottage and collapsed into bed, sleeping peacefully and dreaming less peacefully for the rest of the morning.
*
That evening, Edward rang to ask him a favour. His parents had hired a horsebox to bring Caspar and Gilbert back to Bodmin; could Milo drive the horses on his way to rugby camp? They would of course pay him. Milo badly needed the money – he was missing a week’s work for the rugby camp and it would save him the train fare – so he took the job.
‘But why aren’t you keeping the horses at school any more?’
‘Bonnie wants to ride again, which is a big step forward. And I’ve had the worst school report of my life, my parents are going b
allistic. No riding for me next term, because of A Levels.’
Milo thought that Edward sounded strangely upbeat, like he didn’t even care any more. What was going on with him?
‘Are you…? This isn’t about Beth, is it? I mean, why have you had such a bad report?’
‘Beth? No. Well, I suppose, I must admit, it knocked me sideways when I got back from Berlin and she was with that creep. But I guess I always knew she didn’t love me. I mean, she never promised me anything. It’s my fault.’ Only now did his voice crack with misery.
Poor Edward, thought Milo, he’s really taking this hard. After what happened with Bonnie, it’s not fair that he has to go through this again with Beth. Bloody Zack, he doesn’t deserve Bonnie or Beth. Milo tried to give Edward words of encouragement, but he felt like he’d made a bit of a hash of it. At the end of the phone call, he made the arrangements with the horsebox and hung up, feeling pretty miserable himself.
*
Beth also had a phone call that evening. Zack called to apologise for his desertion and explained that it had all happened so quickly, he hadn’t had time to come and find her. She listened in silence and only half believed what he was saying.
‘Beth, babe, she works for Aaron Spelling, you know, Charlie’s Angels. She’s one of his casting agents. She was talking to me the whole night about a new TV show set in a high school in Beverly Hills. She really thinks I’m right for it. I’m so sorry I did a bunk, but this was big time for me. Please forgive me. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’
Any time, any time now, thought Beth, he’s going to ask about Cold Comfort Farm. How did it go? How am I? Aaron Spelling, my arse. She listened until he ran out of steam.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she hissed, ‘but don’t hold your breath.’ And she slammed down the phone.
CHAPTER 17
Beth picked up Livvy from her family’s farmhouse early the next morning and together they drove to Exonbury station, where Melanie was waiting for them. They had two weeks booked at a little flat in a village called St Emit on the north Cornish coast. Beth had grudgingly agreed to let Zack come after another grovelling phone call and more promises to make it up to her in any way, which she had to admit she was looking forward to.
Mel was in a good mood that day, kissed them both hello, slung her bag in the boot and, when Livvy called shotgun, squashed herself into the back seat of the Beetle. There were no seat belts in the back and the handle that wound down the window on the front passenger side had broken off, but luckily the window was only a tiny bit open so the breeze wasn’t too bad.
‘What are you going to do when it rains?’ said Melanie.
‘Get wet, I suppose,’ replied Beth.
‘This car is a Pile of Shit,’ said Livvy.
‘I resent that. There is nothing wrong with this car. Well, only the window and the seat belts and the fan. But apart from that, it’s perfect.’
Before they reached Bodmin Moor, Beth saw a signpost for Truro, where Milo would be next week, and also for Bodmin, where Edward lived, but took the turning to St Emit. It reminded her of that dream of the maze she’d had at half-term. They got lost when Livvy’s map-reading took them too far along the A39, and as they approached the coast it started to rain, but they were all in good spirits, singing along loudly to the songs on Radio 1, the only station that played in Beth’s car, as the knob was stuck.
*
Six days later, Beth was having a dismal holiday. It had been raining on and off, the clouds racing across the sky, chased by a cold wind. She, Livvy and Mel were bored and at each other’s throats. They’d all been drinking and smoking too much, because there was nothing else to do except watch children’s daytime TV or play Monopoly. And she hated to admit it, but she missed Zack and the way he told her she was beautiful and made her laugh. She was still angry about the play, but she couldn’t hold a grudge, not when he had been so sweet on the phone. He had told her he wanted to apologise properly to her, and then went on to explain some of the things he wanted to do to her by way of that apology. She was glad he couldn’t see her blushing.
She woke up late, and was surprised to see that the sun was shining. There was a note on the kitchen table from Livvy and Mel, saying they had gone windsurfing and telling her the name of the beach, if she wanted to come later. They hadn’t wanted to wake her, she had looked so peaceful and sereen. Beth chuckled. She wasn’t sure if Livvy did it on purpose to wind her up, or if she really was that bad at spelling.
Beth changed into her bikini, T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. She headed into town and followed the low wall that separated the road from the beach until the houses thinned out. The wall ended and she turned towards the sea, walking through the dunes on a path surrounded by grasses and flowers, pockets of air cooling and warming her skin. She passed a small shop selling drinks and surf equipment and then found an out-of-the-way beach, almost empty except for someone walking their dogs and a couple of kids playing with a ball.
She took off her shorts and T-shirt and went for a swim. The water chilled her skin and cleared her fuzzy head. Afterwards, she dried herself off with her towel, then lay on it and let the sun do the rest. The sand was cool as she dug her toes and fingers down into it. She closed her eyes and the sun shone red through her eyelids. Her skin soaked up the heat and, to the faint sound of seagulls squawking, she fell asleep again for a little while.
She was woken by a ball hitting her leg and sat up, sleepily looking at it lying on her towel. Two young boys rushed up, both with bright blond curly hair and freckled faces. The older one, about eight years old, stopped and the smaller one collided with him.
‘Hello. Who are you?’ asked Beth, laughing as they rubbed the sand off their faces.
‘I’m Luke.’
The little one piped up, ‘And I’m Han. Are you Princess Leia?’
His older brother corrected him. ‘Duh. I’ve told you before – Princess Leia is made up. There’s an actress, that means another lady pretending to be Princess Leia.’ He turned back to Beth. ‘Are you the actress who’s Princess Leia?’ he asked, his eyes wide and serious.
Beth laughed. ‘No, I’m not. Anyway, I don’t want to be Princess Leia.’ She breathed in and out of her mouth loudly. ‘I am Darth Vader. I will destroy you with the power of the dark side.’ She stood up and unsheathed her lightsabre. The boys screamed with fear and delight and attacked her from both sides, until all her limbs had been cut off and she lay dying in Luke’s arms. She showed them how to build a sandcastle of the Millennium Falcon. As they were finishing, the boys’ mother approached them from the surf shop. They made her close her eyes and then they revealed the sandcastle to her.
‘Hi, I’m Emily. Thanks for playing with the boys. We were going to get some lunch. Would you like to join us?’
They headed back up to the shop and Beth sat in between the two boys, opposite Emily and her husband Jimmy, who ran the shop. He had the same bright curly hair as his sons, and the three of them reminded Beth of smaller versions of Milo. In the afternoon, they played some more until Emily called the boys in to go home. Beth sat for a while with a Coke, reading her book and watching the sun slowly sink in the sky. She wondered how Milo was getting on at the rugby camp; today would be the last day.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. A boy, about fifteen years old, crouched down beside her and pointed to two surfboards and two wetsuits behind him.
‘Hi, I’m Joel, Jimmy’s son. He’s sent me over to ask if you’d like a surf lesson.’
‘Emily and Jimmy have another son?’
‘Ah, you met my brothers? Emily’s actually my stepmother.’ He had a kind, shy face with a wide grin. ‘Did they make you play Star Wars? I always have to be the baddie.’
‘I like being the baddie. Much more interesting. Yes please for the surf lesson.’
They spent the next hour in and out of the waves, during which time, more and more surfers kept arriving, calling and waving hello to Joe
l and Beth. Finally they all dragged themselves out of the water and someone built a campfire. Joel pressed a bottle of cider into her hand. Someone else produced sausages and bread rolls. Another kid turned up with a ghetto blaster and, as the sun’s rays weakened and sank on the horizon, they sat around chatting and eating and listening to music. A joint was passed around and Beth listened to them all talking about their holiday jobs in bars and restaurants; as lifeguards and surf instructors. She felt so blissful by the fire, sitting next to Joel, pressing their goosebumped legs together to keep warm. He put his arm round her, but it didn’t feel threatening, it was more of a friendly hug, and she didn’t shrug him off. She thought to herself, I could be anyone here. I am anyone. And they accept me and they like me.
‘Who are you here with?’ Joel said quietly.
‘I’m sharing a flat in St Emit with a couple of school friends, this week and next. My boyfriend’s supposed to be coming down tomorrow, from London.’
‘What’s he like?’
Beth thought for a moment. ‘Umm… I’m not sure how to describe him. He’s… funny. Well, actually, not really funny, more like sarcastic. He’s…’ She was struggling to find the right words. ‘He’s… just different. He makes me feel good.’
‘D’you mean he’s good in bed?’ laughed Joel.
‘Yes, I suppose I do.’ Beth was laughing too.
Later, Joel gave her his sweatshirt and, when she started shivering, offered to walk her back to her flat. At the door, he kissed her cheek and said to bring her friends down to the beach tomorrow. She let herself in, blinking in the harsh light. Sitting on the sofa were Zack and Justin.
‘Oh, hi, you’re here. I didn’t know you were coming tonight,’ she said.
‘Where have you been? It’s pretty late,’ said Zack.
