by Julia Green
‘Nowhere, really,’ he says.
‘Can I come with you?’
Simon is so shocked he looks directly at her. She’s not laughing. Her blue-grey eyes stare right back at him.
‘Please?’ she says, as if she really wants to.
‘OK,’ Simon says, as if he doesn’t care either way. ‘If you really want. I thought I’d just go along the cliff a bit. There’s this place —’ He breaks off. Don’t tell her about that! Idiot! It’s supposed to be secret.
‘Are you hungry?’ Leah asks. ‘I’m starving. Can we get some chips or something first? I’ll buy yours if you want.’
He stands behind her, a few paces back, while she orders and pays. She hands him the polystyrene pack and he helps himself to vinegar from the bottle on the kiosk counter. They eat them walking along. It means he doesn’t have to speak, although Leah keeps up a steady stream of observations and questions.
‘I’ve seen you out on your bike, and with those boys you hang out with.’
‘Your mum was pretty mad with you when you got back, wasn’t she? She’s nice, Nina. And your little sister is really sweet.’
It’s as if she’s been watching him the same as he watches her. He can’t quite believe it. He tears the empty chip tray into strips as they walk, then crumples the bits in his hand.
The sky is clearing fast now the wind’s got up. Blue sky stretches over the sea and the sun’s almost out. At the end of the town beach they take the concrete path up over the Island. It’s concreted over so people in wheelchairs can get up there to see the view from the top over the bay. It’s not really an island, of course.
‘Let’s sit for a bit,’ Leah says.
Simon perches himself at the other end of the bench. He’s hopelessly out of his depth now. What next? He’d been planning to walk along the cliff as far as the rope and the swimming cove, but he can’t go there with her.
‘Who’s your mum’s boyfriend, then?’
‘She hasn’t got one,’ Simon mumbles.
‘Well, who was that bloke who drove her home last night?’
‘What?’
‘Matt someone?’
Simon blushes. ‘That’s just some teacher from my school. Not her boyfriend.’
‘Oh.’ Leah smiles.
What does that mean?
And what was my art teacher doing driving Mum home, anyway? She went in her own car. Simon doesn’t want to think about any of this.
‘I’m going on. See you around.’ He gets up and starts walking fast up the path to the cliff.
‘Hang on. Wait!’
He doesn’t. His heart’s hammering and he just wants to be by himself. He can hear Leah panting behind. She doesn’t give up easily, does she? She’s wearing the wrong things for a rough walk along the cliff. It’ll be muddy. Wet grass and gorse brush your legs all the way along this first bit. He hears her stumbling along, trying to catch up with him. Eventually he softens, turns, waits.
‘I’m not used to going so fast,’ Leah says, as if she hasn’t cottoned on that he’s deliberately trying to leave her behind. ‘And the path’s really slippy.’
‘You should go back. It gets worse,’ Simon says.
Below them, the sea crashes and foams on the black rocks. Further out, it sparkles in sunshine. The path dips and curves along the steep cliff edge. You can get giddy just looking down. He can’t get the thought of his mother and Mr Davies out of his head. What the hell is she playing at?
‘If you slipped,’ Leah is saying, ‘you could fall right down there on to the rocks. You’d die.’
‘Possibly,’ Simon agrees. ‘But there’s bushes and stuff to break your fall.’
‘Why isn’t there a fence? Signs saying how dangerous it is?’
‘It’s the countryside, isn’t it? Anyway, how come you’ve never been here before? How long’ve you lived here?’
Leah shrugs. ‘Years. Always. We don’t do walks, my family. We don’t do anything for that matter.’
They walk in single file along the narrow path. Simon starts thinking back to last night. The dead magpie. Drinking Johnny’s cider. Nina going on and on at him when he got back so late. He hadn’t realized how late it was because of the moonlight.
‘Last night,’ Simon says out loud, ‘there was this amazing moon. So bright it was like daylight.’
‘I know,’ Leah says. ‘I saw it.’
‘Everything was silver. The grass, the trees, the sea even.’
‘Magic,’ Leah says. ‘So that’s what you were doing last night. Walking.’
She still hasn’t turned back.
‘And other stuff,’ Simon says. ‘My mate’s got an air rifle.’
‘Does he kill things?’
‘Oh yes. Crows, and a magpie.’
‘That’s unlucky,’ Leah says. ‘One for sorrow. What do you kill? With that catapult thing?’
She has been watching.
‘Not much,’ he says. ‘A rabbit once.’
Leah screws up her face, but she doesn’t say anything. Not like Simon expects her to. Like Ellie or Nina, going on about the poor sweet baby bunny. He likes her better for that.
‘It’s hot now,’ Leah says. ‘The path’s steaming! Look!’
The air is heavy and full of the stink of wet vegetation. Slightly rotten, with the strong coconut smell of gorse flowers overlaying it.
Simon turns away as Leah tugs her sweatshirt over her head. Not soon enough, though: he can’t help glimpsing the taut smooth flesh of her stomach as she pulls up the hem of the sweatshirt. He looks down at the black rocks, the waves crashing in. Feels dizzy.
She follows him along the path, up and down, in and out of each dip and rise of the coastline. He’s thirsty, and hot now too. As they scramble up the next hill, he stops to cup his hand in the flow of a tiny spring trickling out of the rock. Leah copies him.
‘Is it OK to drink?’
Simon nods. ‘It’s just out of the hillside. Not as if some sheep’s been peeing in it or anything, which is what happens in a stream.’
Leah leans and stretches herself, hands on her back. ‘Isn’t there a place we can sit? I’m tired.’
‘Not yet.’
He walks the next section of the path more slowly, even though he’s not tired at all. It isn’t that far now till they reach the place where the path opens out into a steeply sloping green field, and then there’s the rope, and a way down. He’s going to do it. Take her there. It’s too late to turn back now.
8
Leah can’t quite believe that she’s walked this far, and has just virtually abseiled down a rope hanging over a cliff and is still alive. It’s taking a summer project she conjured up on a whim to a bit of an extreme, she thinks. When did she last do anything half as active? She hadn’t realized Simon was such an outdoors freak. But it’s also strangely exhilarating — swinging for a second out over the cliff, before gravity pulls her down and Simon helps her find footholds in the cliffside. And down on the rocks here it’s fantastic. The morning’s rain has completely cleared away; the wet rocks have dried in the midday sun, and in the shelter of the cliff there’s no wind. She rolls up her trousers, slips off her shoes. It’s the perfect place for sunbathing. If she can remember the way and steel her nerve for that descent on the rope, she could come here by herself another time and strip right down, tan herself all over.
She watches Simon. He’s sitting with his legs dangling over the platform of rock, half turned away, facing a small cove of sparkling sea.
‘Is there a way down? A beach?’ she asks him.
He shakes his head. ‘But you can swim off the rocks. It’s hard to get out again, though. The rocks are sharp.’
The water looks so inviting. Little waves curl in past the headland into the cove and smooth themselves out over the sandy seabed. A private swimming place. And the rocks to stretch out on and dry afterwards.
Eyes closed, Leah imagines she’s here with the man from the bookshop. Matt. Being an artist, he’s ske
tching the landscape, and sketching her. Drawings for a future sculpture. He runs his hand over her shoulder to get the feel of the bone, the shape beneath the skin. Her flesh feels as if it’s melting under the warmth of his hand. She can feel his breath on her face. Her hair shifts in the breeze, strokes his cheek. He moves closer, leans over her.
‘I might swim,’ Simon says, but he doesn’t move.
Leah imagines Matt diving in off the rocks, and her diving after him (somehow, miraculously, she will know how to dive) and her hair streaming out after her like a mermaid.
Leah shivers. A cloud has temporarily covered the sun. She opens her eyes. The rocks look dark. Simon is hunched over, his arms round his knees, staring at the water.
‘Well,’ Leah says. ‘If you do, I will. When the sun comes back out.’
‘Will what?’
‘Swim. Off the rocks.’
‘It’s freezing,’ Simon says.
‘How do you know?’
‘Done it before.’
Leah picks her way over the rocks towards him. They are warm to her bare feet. She dips a toe in one of the pools left in a crevice. A tiny fish shoots beneath the weed fringe. The water’s quite warm.
‘What about the tides and currents and that?’ Leah says. ‘Is it safe to swim?’
‘It’s OK if the tide’s really low,’ Simon says. ‘Like now. You can see the sandy bottom really clearly.’
‘Go on, then,’ Leah says.
He looks afraid. It’s her, not the sea, that frightens him, she can tell. She backs off slightly.
‘You go in and tell me what it’s like. I won’t watch while you get your things off.’
He’s obviously not intending to take anything off — only his boots and socks, and maybe his T-shirt. She pretends not to look.
He doesn’t dive; he lowers himself, first on to the shelf of rocks below, and then over the edge into the water. She sees him wince as his feet break the surface, hesitate, then he lowers himself right in and his face goes a sort of purple. He gasps, a spontaneous, uncontrolled yelp.
‘Cold?’ Leah leans over to watch as he starts to swim.
‘Freezing!’ His voice echoes.
Leah scrambles down to the lower rocks herself. It’s cooler already, closer to the water. Maybe she won’t swim after all.
Simon has crossed the tiny cove doing crawl; he now returns on his back and floats a moment, grinning up at her. ‘Nice once you’re in,’ he lies. ‘Chicken.’
‘OK then, I’ll show you.’ Leah steps neatly out of her jeans, folds them, leaves them next to Simon’s boots. Her legs are tanned and smooth, warm from the sun. She slips herself over the edge and shrieks at the shock of the water, then starts to swim. It’s so cold it hurts. She can’t bear it for long. She does her silly, inefficient breaststroke with her head sticking up above the water, round into the shallowest part of the cove and then back, and starts to pull herself out. It isn’t that easy. She keeps losing her grip. The waves, even though they are small, push at her and then the current drags her back. Her legs scrape against the barnacled surface of the rock. Simon swims up behind her to help. She’s gasping from the cold, shivering all over. Her fingers are blue-white.
‘Help me up!’ Her teeth chatter.
Simon holds her feet steady and helps shove her up over the ledge. Tiny threads of blood mix with the seawater streaming off her body.
She’s trembling all over, and then as the blood starts rushing back into her numb hands and feet it feels as if her whole body’s on fire. She starts to laugh.
‘Give us a hand, then,’ Simon shouts up.
She pulls him up and he stands next to her, his clothes plastered to his skinny limbs, a huge wet puddle forming at his feet.
Looking at him makes her laugh more.
He’s so helpless, such a drowned rat, standing there with this gormless look. Leah wriggles into her dry jeans and climbs up a level to a warm sunny spot against the cliff. She’ll spare him the misery of peeling off wet clothes in front of her. She quickly takes off her own top and puts on her dry sweatshirt, wrings out the ends of her wet hair, spreads her wet top over the rocks to dry. She feels amazing. It’s as if the dip into the sea has brought her back to life. Energy fizzles down her veins. She’s actually enjoying herself!
Simon flops next to her. Fully clothed, completely soaked.
Leah squeals. ‘Get away! You’ll make me all wet again!’
He rubs his wet torso with his one dry garment — the T-shirt. ‘I’ll dry in the sun,’ he explains.
‘Take the jeans off at least, Si,’ Leah tells him. ‘I can’t see anything, not if you’ve got that huge T-shirt on.’
The mood between them has lightened. Simon does a silly sort of dance, one wet foot to the other, flapping at her, and she laughs for real. He turns his back to her to strip off the soaked jeans.
‘We’ll have to stay here till they dry,’ he teases.
‘What’s the time, anyway?’
‘No idea.’
‘I’m supposed to be shopping.’ Leah giggles.
They both lie there with their eyes shut, and their wet clothes steam in the sun. The sun’s high in the sky; it must be early afternoon. Leah’s face begins to burn. She moves Simon’s boots so they make some shadow for her. She’s warmed right through now. Strangely, unexpectedly, she feels completely content. It’s been a long time since she’s felt this way. High above them, a bird swoops and soars against a blue sky. It calls, a thin high mewing sound.
A slight shift of light and shadow makes her open her eyes. Simon’s got up; he’s wandering over the platform of rocks, searching for something. She watches him: his skinny legs under the long T-shirt, his huge feet, like a puppy with lots of growing still to do. His skin has the faint flush of sunburn which you know will deepen and redden as the day wears on. By nightfall it’ll be itchy and unbearable.
9
Simon peers into the rock pool, as if he’s searching for creatures, but really he’s thinking hard. There’s a quick way back home if they cut inland across the fields, but that will mean both arriving home at the same time and someone might see. If they go back the long way, he’ll have to find a way of losing her before they get to the town, but it’s easier to do that, and she’s already said she’s got shopping to do. And it also means she won’t know the quick way to the bathing rock. He doesn’t want her to come here by herself. It’s his place. Stupid, to have shown her the way down.
But it was amazing, swimming together in the cove. He thinks of that moment, holding her feet so she could climb back out. Her skin.
Behind him her tiny turquoise top is still lying in the sun. When she first got out it was almost see-through, wet against her body.
The mysterious world of the rock pool seems much more knowable to him than Leah. Leah Sweet. He says her name in his head twice. She called me Si. As if we were friends. Are we now?
There’s a buzzard overhead. Gulls below. Tide seems to be coming back in. They timed their swim perfectly. It will be an hour later tomorrow, to get the right moment. Should he tell her how dangerous it is to swim, unless it’s a spring tide? But that will suggest to her that she can come again. Or even come without him.
Too much thinking is making his head hurt. He’s too hot again, would love another swim. Needs a drink. He goes dizzy for a moment when he stands up.
‘I’ve got to get back,’ he says to Leah.
She nods. ‘How?’
‘Same way. Back up with the rope. It’s easier going up.’
‘Wait while I get my top on,’ Leah says.
She doesn’t seem to care whether he sees or not. But he looks away all the same.
When they climb up the cliff he touches her hand. Well, she clings on to him for dear life. It doesn’t mean anything. She’s scared of falling. They make their way back along the cliff path the way they came, and finally they get back to the Island.
‘You’ve caught the sun,’ Leah says.
‘So
have you. But you were tanned already,’ Simon stammers. Everything feels different now they’re back.
‘I had a really good time,’ Leah says. ‘Thanks for letting me tag along.’
‘You can do your shopping. If it’s not too late.’
‘Yes. Want to come with me?’ Leah asks.
‘No thanks,’ Simon says.
‘See ya, then!’
Simon waits while she walks slowly down the path towards the town. She doesn’t look back. Then he starts off down the hill towards the road. The town beach is packed with people, squeezed into a sandy strip at the top by the encroaching tide. Children bob in the water. The waves drum against the shore. His ears are full of the mesmerizing sound from a whole afternoon of sitting so close to the sea. He buys himself a Coke from the first kiosk he comes to and downs it in one.
The town clock strikes the hour. He counts. Four. He has spent nearly five hours alone with Leah Sweet who is sixteen years old and the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Nothing will ever be the same again.
‘Where have you been all day?’ Nina asks him the moment he comes through the gate.
‘On the beach,’ Simon tells her. ‘And I walked along the cliff path a short way.’
Nina studies his face. ‘You’ve been in the sun too long. Look at you. But hasn’t the weather been lovely? I’ve had a brilliant time too.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, I met Matt Davies for coffee and then he gave me a lift out to his place so I could collect the car, but it was so lovely we had a little walk round where he lives, and then we had something to eat, and, well — it was lovely.’
‘Yes. You said.’
‘What’s the matter? Don’t you like me having a good time?’
Not with him. He sighs, just so she knows he’s fed up with her. ‘Where’s Ellie?’ he asks.
‘She’s been at Rita’s all day. She’s got her grandchildren staying so she asked Ellie over too, and when it got so sunny they took a picnic down to the beach. And Ellie’s just phoned to see if she can sleep over.’