‘We’ve got to find someone with a phone,’ Cam was saying. ‘I’ve got to call my parents, we’ve got to report this.’
Stella’s grip tightened on the handles of the wheelchair. ‘No,’ she said. ‘We can’t, not yet.’
‘That woman tried to kill us!’
‘They’ll arrest Pearl, they’ll think she was part of it.’
‘Well, wasn’t she?’
‘It wasn’t her fault.’
Cam began walking fast up the empty street. Stella had to half-run to keep up with her, the wheelchair jerking and bouncing over the uneven surface.
‘Leave me,’ Pearl whispered.
‘I can’t,’ Stella panted. ‘You’re not safe. You need to get far away from her.’
Cam had almost reached the crossroads with the main street.
‘We’ll get the ferry,’ Stella begged her. ‘The minute we get to the mainland, I’ll call my dad, I promise.’
Once, a long time ago, her dad had swung her from the edge of the swimming pool, his arms strong and sure. The memory came back to Stella so suddenly and so vividly, that her eyes swam with tears.
‘My dad will know what to do. He’ll sort everything out.’
Cam hesitated. ‘Okay,’ she said at last. ‘If you promise… I have a bad feeling about this,’ she added, as they turned on to the main street. Stella was walking too fast to answer her.
‘A bad, bad feeling,’ Cam repeated.
Stella tried to remember exactly where the pier was, and guessed they weren’t far away. She quickened her pace, although the nearer they got to the town centre, the more pedestrians there were, and she had to keep slowing down. She couldn’t help noticing that many of them looked at her, staring as she hurried along, the wheelchair bumping. They stared at Cam as well, but Stella was too anxious to pay much attention.
‘Do you remember when the ferry leaves?’
She couldn’t hear Cam’s reply. There was too much noise around them. Lastland Island was getting ready for the evening. Neon signs buzzed and flicked into life, fudge poured like lava into waiting trays, street musicians tuned up their instruments and a thousand glow sticks sprouted from waiting stalls.
Stella noticed a giant red lobster on a sign. She remembered seeing it the day she arrived.
‘The pier’s just down there!’
They struggled through the crowds, and turned at last on to the boardwalk leading out to the marina. The sun was low over the sea, the water a pale, electric blue, and there lay the ferry, docked like a miracle at the very end of the pier.
Stella began to run, although as she grew closer to the ferry, she saw there was no need to hurry. There was a long queue waiting to embark.
‘Wheelchair coming through!’ Cam called, and the queue parted to let them pass. In a moment they would be over the metal gangplank, on their way to home and safety…
‘Tickets, please!’
Stella felt her stomach tighten. She had completely forgotten about tickets. You were meant to buy them at a booth on the pier. But even if they had time to turn around and make their way back, it wouldn’t be any use. She had no money left. She had used it up getting into the show at the Crystal Cove. And by the stricken look on Cam’s face, it was obvious that Cam didn’t have any money either.
‘Tickets,’ the man repeated, already looking past them.
‘We… we don’t have them,’ Stella said helplessly.
The man made a gesture of impatience. ‘You can’t board without tickets.’
‘We do have them,’ Cam said in desperation. ‘We just can’t show them to you.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because…’ Cam’s glance fell on Pearl. ‘Because my mum is sitting on them!’ she said wildly.
‘Sitting on them?’
‘She wanted to keep them safe. She always sits on things she wants to keep safe,’ Cam said, starting to enjoy herself. ‘Letters, passports, car keys, you name it.’
She leaned towards the man, her voice dropping to a whisper. ‘Last week we found three silver forks and my dad’s whole coin collection under there. Can you believe it?’
The man cleared his throat and eyed Pearl nervously. ‘Ma’am? I really do have to see those tickets…’ Pearl stared back without blinking. ‘Ma’am, if you could just…’
Pearl folded her arms and narrowed her eyes.
‘I think you’re upsetting her,’ Cam said. ‘She’s getting upset, isn’t she, Stella?’
Stella nodded.
‘Bad things happen when she gets upset,’ Cam said.
‘Well, I don’t know,’ he said, ‘but you can’t hold everyone up like this.’ And he hurriedly waved them through.
‘My dad’s whole coin collection?’ Stella hissed as they made their way on board. ‘You always go too far.’
‘It worked, didn’t it?’
They wheeled Pearl into the lounge and found an empty bench, tucked out of sight of the other passengers. It wasn’t until Stella had parked the wheelchair and sat down that she realised why she and Cam had been getting such odd looks, ever since leaving the Crystal Cove.
‘We’re still completely wet through,’ she said. ‘I never even noticed!’
Thirty-eight
The ferry was busy and it was a good fifteen or twenty minutes before everyone had boarded and the engines started. Stella let out a long breath, reassured by the feeling of water moving beneath her. The ferry turned slowly in the harbour, then picked up speed, heading for the open sea.
‘I’m going to lie down for a minute,’ Cam mumbled, stretching her long legs out on the bench, and in thirty seconds she was fast asleep. Stella gazed through the window as the land grew further away. Her shoulders relaxed, and she untied her jacket from around her waist.
‘Do you want a drink of water?’ she asked Pearl.
Pearl was staring at the horizon. Stella wondered how she could gaze so steadily at the glittering, sunlit sea without squinting.
‘No,’ Pearl said, not turning her head. ‘Just a paper napkin.’
‘A napkin?’ Stella hesitated, wondering if Pearl was unwell. But she didn’t look ill. There was colour in her cheeks, a faintest wash of pink beneath her silvery skin. Stella made her way to the bar on the other side of the lounge. She had to wait for several minutes, but when she returned, Pearl hadn’t moved.
‘I brought you a few,’ Stella said, laying them on the table next to her.
‘One will be enough.’
Cam was lying on the bench, her right arm flung above her head, the other trailing on the floor. Even asleep, Cam couldn’t help being dramatic, Stella thought.
‘I’m going out on deck,’ she told Pearl.
She leaned over the railing, her damp hair drying in the wind, the surface of the water flying by below. The ocean would never be the same again. Now, she knew that somewhere, deep below those waves, there were nameless beings, beyond the need for words or language. They had always been there, too swift to be caught, too cunning to be trapped, each cell in their bodies able to think, and feel, and understand. Her own mum had been one of them. For a moment, Stella wondered again what it might be like if she was one herself.
Alive, she thought. More alive than I can dream of.
Then she pushed the thought aside. She didn’t need to know. It wouldn’t matter if she never found out. Even so, she couldn’t drag her eyes from the water. She leaned further over the rail, peering through the glittering swell. Right at that moment, far beneath, there might be one who watched, who saw the ferry passing, the brief flicker of Stella’s shadow running over the surface of the waves.
‘Can you hear it?’ Stella straightened up. Pearl was beside her. The colour was deeper in her cheeks, and the wind had whipped her hair into a cloud.
‘Hear what?’
‘Listen.’
Stella tilted her head, catching the noise of seagulls, the steady hum of the boat’s engines, the slap and hiss of passing waves.
‘I hear the
ferry…’
‘Can’t you hear the singing? Coming from all around?’
Stella looked at her uncertainly.
‘It’s the water,’ Pearl said.
The sun was lower now. Lastland Island had vanished, and there was nothing as far as the eye could see to break the long blue line of the horizon. Far in the distance, something moved; a wisp of cloud or spray just above the surface. Stella blinked and it was gone.
‘I have to go,’ Pearl said.
‘Where?’ Stella asked, although she had guessed already.
‘I should have done it years ago. Being on land drained my courage. But it will only take a moment, and anyone can be brave for a moment, can’t they?’
‘You could die!’
‘Maybe.’
‘But you’re safe now!’ Stella protested. She looked around. The deck was full of passengers, and in the last few moments more had arrived, crowding the railings and the space around the wheelchair.
‘You’re safe,’ Stella repeated, lowering her voice. ‘Marcie can’t hurt you any more, and my dad will work out what to do. He knows you, remember? He’ll help you. You were my mum’s best friend.’
‘I don’t want to be safe,’ Pearl said. ‘I want to be free.’
Stella stared at her in silence for a moment.
‘I can’t do it here,’ Pearl said, speaking rapidly. ‘I can pull myself out of the chair by holding on to the boat rail, then slide under the lowest bar. But it’ll take me a few minutes. Someone will see and pull me back before I even get halfway.’
Stella remembered her journey to the island. The ferry had been busy that day too. Though she’d been on the lower deck, where there weren’t any seats and only a few passengers.
‘I know where it’s quieter,’ she said. She hesitated. Then she thought of her mum’s drawing. The mermaid with her hand against the glass, unable to turn away, though her eyes were filled with longing to be gone.
‘There’s hardly anyone on the lower deck,’ she told Pearl, her voice quiet. ‘I can take you there, if you like.’
Pearl’s face flooded with gratitude and relief. A seagull wheeled low over the deck. Suddenly her eyes widened and all the colour left her cheeks.
‘What is it?’
‘She’s here,’ Pearl said. ‘She’s followed us.’
Thirty-nine
Stella turned, felt a hand grip her shoulder, saw Marcie’s face, frighteningly close.
‘You ruined my boots!’
It ought to have sounded ridiculous. But there was nothing funny about the rage in Marcie’s voice, or the mad look in her eyes. Her cheeks had darkened to purple, and her hair was plastered to her skull in flat, grey strips. She had flung an old army jacket over her wet clothes, together with a grubby-looking bag.
‘I knew you would be on the ferry, I knew it!’
‘Let go of me,’ Stella said. ‘Let go or I’ll scream.’
‘Scream all you like,’ Marcie said, although she removed her hand.
‘You can’t do anything to us,’ Stella said, yet there was a tremble in her voice. Even here, in the relative safety of the ferry, with people around, Marcie still had the power to terrify her. But Marcie was only one person, Stella told herself. There was no reason to be frightened of her now. ‘You can’t do anything,’ she repeated, more fiercely.
‘I don’t want to do anything,’ Marcie said, her mouth twisting as she tried to control her fury.
‘So why are you following us? What do you want?’
‘I want her,’ Marcie said, jerking her head in the direction of Pearl. ‘I’m taking her back to the Crystal Cove, where she belongs.’
Stella clenched her fists. ‘Pearl won’t go with you, she’s not your possession!’
‘Maybe not, but she’s my insurance.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘So long as she’s with me, I’m betting you won’t be doing any tattletaling about our little… escapade,’ Marcie said. ‘Not when you consider what a story I’d have to tell if you called the authorities.’ She patted her bag with a meaty hand. ‘I have a copy of the tape right here, as a matter of fact. Hard to argue with evidence like that.’
‘You can’t take her. I’ll stop you!’
‘It’s no good. I have to go with her, don’t you see?’ Pearl suddenly looked as washed out as she had the first time Stella had seen her, in the sickly light of the Crystal Cove.
‘I could tell everyone right this minute, that you tried to kill us,’ Stella told Marcie. ‘All I have to do is shout.’ She looked around the deck. Several of the other passengers were already giving Marcie curious looks. ‘They’d call the police. You wouldn’t be allowed to take Pearl back. You wouldn’t even be allowed off the boat.’
Marcie shrugged. ‘You could do that,’ she said. ‘You’re right, I’d be arrested. But I’d make sure Pearl was too, and I’d still have the tape. I think the police would be very interested to find out what kind of a monster she really is.’
A look of triumph swept Marcie’s mottled face.
‘You needn’t worry. I’ll take very good care of her,’ she said. ‘Although from now on, she’ll have to do the chores without that little stick of hers.’
The thought of Pearl going back to the drudgery and torment of the Crystal Cove was more than Stella could bear. Yet the alternative was even worse. If Marcie was arrested, Pearl would be exposed, and the secret of the ocean revealed to the world.
‘The clock is ticking,’ Marcie said. ‘Any minute now, your friend will wake up, and you won’t have the choice any longer.’
She was right. Cam would raise the alarm the instant she saw Marcie.
‘What’s it to be?’ Marcie insisted, her voice charged with fear and impatience. ‘Decide!’
Stella couldn’t. She stood rigid, deaf to the sound of gulls and waves, the chatter of passengers, the throb of the ferry’s engines.
If only there was another option – any other option.
She glanced at Pearl. How close she’d come to escape! If Marcie had appeared only a few minutes later, there would have been nothing she could’ve done. It was true she had the tape, but without Pearl, the tape was worthless.
What was it Pearl had said? I don’t want to be safe, I want to be free.
Stella cast a quick look around. The deck was even more crowded than before. A dozen people would spot Pearl the moment she tried to move. Unless… Stella took a deep, frightened breath. Unless.
Unless everyone on deck – everyone on the entire ferry – happened to be looking in the opposite direction when she did it.
Hadn’t Stella told herself she would do anything in her power to protect the ocean’s secret? Whatever the cost?
She bent down and touched Pearl’s shoulder.
‘Be free,’ she whispered. Then she slid out of her trainers, and before Marcie had time to react, raced across the deck, swerving around benches and passengers until she reached the other side. Without a second’s hesitation, she grasped the rail with both hands, put one foot on the lower bar and swung herself up.
The danger was very great. But the secret was worth it.
At least, she thought, I’ll find out who I really am.
In the split-second before she jumped, poised between the sunset-streaked sky and the black water below, a realisation shot through Stella’s mind with the force and clarity of utter truth. It was that her entire life, one way or another, she had been running away from this moment. And yet, without knowing, she had been running straight towards it all along.
She pushed off the rail as hard as she could, and leaped with outstretched arms into the sea.
Forty
Stella had taken a huge breath, but she instantly lost it in the shocking coldness of the water. The force of her leap sent her body plunging, then she rose, her head breaking the surface, her eyes half-blinded by the splash and spray. She glimpsed the vast side of the ferry, the thrash of its wake, the shapes of figures along the rail, hea
rd the yelling of a distant voice.
‘Man overboard!’
She gasped, caught half a breath, her arms beating. The ferry sounded its horn with a long, ear-splitting blare, although Stella barely heard it. She was too busy battling to stay afloat. She struck out in the direction of the ferry, swimming with all her might, although within a few seconds it was clear she was making no headway. From the deck, the swell had looked small, almost gentle. Up close, it rose and fell in tall peaks, moving with irresistible force. Terror engulfed her. She kicked out, limbs flailing. Yet the water was too big to fight. It shoved against her with a smothering weight, reducing her movements to a flutter, silencing the cry in her throat.
A splash appeared next to the ferry, then two more in rapid succession. But Stella could no longer lift her head to look. Her legs stopped moving. She pushed against the water with the palms of her hands, as if trying to lever herself up, gave one last, desperate glance towards the sky, then slipped below the surface without a sound.
She struggled for a bit, her arms reaching weakly. But the pull of the darkness below was too strong, and after a few seconds she grew still. She drifted further beneath the surface, her back up and her legs stretched out in front of her, as though carried on an invisible chair, and now when she tried to move, she found she couldn’t. Her body was shutting down; her heart slowing, even her eyelids refused to blink.
I am drowning, she thought, as she sank through the dimming water. Will it happen now? Will I turn?
She looked at her legs and found the answer. White skin, bruise on one knee, mole above the ankle of the left foot. Her legs, the same as they always were. Unturned, unchanged.
Human. Normal. Pure relief welled up in her, and hand in hand with the relief, a quiet yet terrible sadness.
I am going to die.
It seemed as though she was falling down the side of a great black, glistening wall, smooth in places, in others marked with strange white lines, like runes scratched in stone a thousand years ago. There was a window in the wall; something glittered in its shining glass. A green light, as brilliant as a star. Stella stared, struggling to make sense of it despite her failing vision.
The Girl Who Thought Her Mother Was a Mermaid Page 11