The Heart Thief

by Richard A Swingle

  19

  It had been a long and emotional farewell. Saying goodbye to Alice and Diego was harder than expected but Ilaria knew that she would visit them again soon. She had invited them to travel back to Southbourne with her but they had too much to take care of in the coming weeks.

  The airports had reopened after the clouds of ash had dispersed. There had been reports of large animals flying in the sky off the west coast of Italy, breathing fire that broke through the clouds, but all the newspapers had eventually dismissed the idea as a rumour started by some crazed citizen trying to get rich by selling the story.

  Work had begun to repair the damage that the volcanic lava had caused across the world. Some people had lost their homes, but thankfully no one had been hurt.

  Ilaria missed Speranza. From the brief time they had spent together, there was a part of her that would now be forever changed due to their bonding and she had struggled to transition back to her old life. But Ilaria was grateful to see Johnny and Nawal again and after a long hard discussion, she agreed that she needed to go back to school. That was the hardest part of all. Ilaria didn’t mind the foster home she had been placed in. In fact, Mr and Mrs Bishop were incredibly friendly and their fascination with gin was most amusing to Ilaria, as she would often find the pair of them giggling on Friday nights after she finished her paper round, a new job she’d taken as she was saving up to travel back to Italy the following summer. Sitting in a classroom listening to the drivel of her teachers, who Ilaria was now convinced had less clue about life than she did, was frustrating, but she was determined to persevere because she didn’t want to disappoint anyone and deep down she knew she had a lot still to learn.

  Scott got up to his usual tricks during the lunch breaks and after school but Ilaria had learnt to deal with him non-violently now by showing up his stupidity in front of his friends and after a while, having been humiliated in front of his gang several times, he had given up with Ilaria and Johnny and moved on to his next victims.

  On the weekends, Ilaria would sit and read history books and anything else she could find to do with the effects that people were having by using up the resources of the world. Everyone had been so concerned with the volcanic eruptions, they had been completely ignorant to the fact that something called global warming was becoming a real problem. It was evident that most human activity was bad for the environment, damaging the atmosphere with carbon emissions, filling oceans with waste and killing the marine life in the sea. On land, animals living in forests were displaced as trees were torn down to create palm oil or other products that seemed completely unnecessary to Ilaria. She had actually got into an argument with a classmate who had come to school covered in make-up, totally unaware about the damage her products were doing. Ilaria’s frustration had fallen on deaf ears. Why her class weren’t taught these things in school was a mystery to her.

  Ilaria had read about a big meeting at a United Nations summit, where almost all the countries of the world had gathered to discuss how to reduce the pollution they were causing. Ilaria had found articles from leading newspapers of several different countries, where the sole focus was aimed at reducing human waste. How pleasing to hear that people seemed to care, she thought, though after further investigation Ilaria realised that they were all lying to each other about what they planned to do and in the end, it was all about political relations, money and power. It was daunting and Ilaria knew she had a very long road ahead of her if she was going to fix anything at all.

  Johnny’s father had agreed to help Ilaria put up flyers around Southbourne, trying to encourage people to recycle materials that could be reused. He had returned home and found a new job in London so he could be with his family every weekend. Johnny was pleased by this, as he spent most weekends bored now, whilst Ilaria was busy, burying herself in her books instead of hanging out with him. She still saw him at school but wouldn’t apologise for ignoring him because revolutions are not built off the back of play as she had quoted to him, patronisingly one afternoon.

  Time passed by very quickly and before she knew it Ilaria was celebrating her thirteenth birthday. Nawal threw a lovely party for her in the afternoon after having taken Ilaria to the cemetery to visit her grandfather’s gravestone. Ilaria’s one regret when she had run away was that she hadn’t been at his funeral. She was told it had all gone well and most of the residents from her old street had come to pay their respects. Her grandfather would have been very humbled by that, she thought, and before they left she had placed a carving of a hummingbird beside his gravestone.

  A series of party poppers went off and confetti filled the air and everyone cheered. Ilaria found herself thinking about how much waste these poppers would create but she tried to ignore that, just for today.

  ‘Happy Birthday, Ilaria,’ they all said in unison. Nawal, Johnny and the Bishops were all present, plus a few of the locals from down the street and one or two of Johnny’s new schoolmates she had invited. Ilaria laughed heartily at them as they had begun stuffing their faces almost immediately after they arrived.

  Ilaria cut her cake, handed out a slice to everyone, and sat joyfully watching them all eat. It reminded her of Christmas spent with her grandfather, whom she credited for her love of breaking bread with others.

  Mrs Bishop pulled an envelope out of her purse. ‘Oh, Ilaria, a letter arrived for you. They redirected it from the school.’

  Ilaria took the letter and couldn’t contain her excitement. Had her mother found her somehow? Had she survived the cave-in? Ilaria ran into the next room to get some privacy and tore open the envelope and pored over the letter.

  It wasn’t from her mother. However, a huge smile spread across her face as she read it. It was from Silvia, her kind shipmate, who had bought a new boat from the insurance payout for the last yacht that had crashed in the storm.

  Ilaria was so happy to hear that she was alright. She had given a forwarding address so that Ilaria could write back to her and tell her of all her adventures. She desperately wanted to take out a pen and begin writing her reply instantly but Johnny burst into the room looking for her.

  He asked curiously who had written to her and told her that everyone was looking for her downstairs.

  Ilaria told him that one day she would tell him the whole story but she knew he would not believe a single word and so the two friends returned to the party; it was the most time they had spent playing together in months and it brought Ilaria immense joy.

  She looked around at all those who had gathered to celebrate her birthday and thought, This is worth fighting for. This moment that she would cherish for the rest of her life. She closed her eyes tight and took a mental picture, so as never to forget.

  Epilogue

  A full moon beamed down on the hot and dry summer’s night. In the month that had passed since Ilaria’s birthday, she had written to Silvia several times. It usually took about a week to receive a response and when she had read Silvia’s reply, expressing her sympathy about her mother, Ilaria had wept.

  As she lay in bed, staring at the undulating light across her ceiling, Ilaria waited impatiently, fidgeting, as she couldn’t sleep for her excitement. Each hour that passed felt like days and there was nothing she could do to help fill the time. She had packed her bags the previous evening and written all her farewell letters. Johnny had been given his instructions of exactly how and when to hand them out. He wasn’t sure about aiding and abetting a runaway—the consequences had been bad enough the last time she had run away and he hadn’t had anything to do with that saga—but now he was directly involved. After voicing his concerns, Ilaria simply told him not to be such a sissy.

  Ilaria peered out of her window with a view of Hengistbury Head. The rocky mound, filled with muddy, carroty crags, was a beautiful silhouette against the moonlight that reflected off the sea and Ilaria thought how she was going to miss the view from her bedroom as a ray of dawn light came into view. She picked up her bag and threw it over her shoulder
, crept to the window and slid it open gently so as not to wake anyone.

  As promised, Johnny had snuck out in the night and leant his father’s ladder up against the outside of the house for Ilaria to climb down. Once she had jumped off the last rung, Ilaria gave him a huge hug before heading off down the street. She turned and waved to Johnny, who was already dismantling the ladder for fear of being caught, and laughed.

  Down by the beach, waves were lapping up against the side of the yacht and Ilaria couldn’t contain her excitement as she called out to her skipper.

  ‘There she is,’ shouted Silvia from the decks of her new sailboat.

  Ilaria ran aboard and embraced Silvia. ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘Of course. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer to help you look for her?’ Silvia ran her fingers through Ilaria’s hair.

  ‘It’s not just that. Thank you for believing me. I don’t know if we’ll find her but just believing that it was all real means so much to me.’

  ‘Of course it was real, and with the journey we have ahead, you have plenty of time to tell me all about it.’

  Ilaria nodded and beamed a large grin at her skipper and went to untie the rope from the jetty the boat was secured to.

  They set off into the morning light and this time no storms met them on their voyage. The two friends spoke of everything that had happened. But more than just that, they spoke of everything that might yet come to pass. Seeing the world from the ocean again gave Ilaria a sense of optimism. The endless expanse of water where thousands of creatures lived. The innumerable islands they sailed past, each with its own distinct character. The diverse cultures that they met as they docked in each port to load up supplies, and how Ilaria loved to hear the different languages and dialects. One of her favourite places they visited was the island of Malta, where she loved the friendly locals and the fresh food they ate there. Ilaria did her best to learn at least a few words of every different language she came across. Each one was so unique and colourful and somehow seemed to reflect the way people behaved.

  Ilaria knew the world truly was a wonderful place and she was lucky to be a part of it, and as they approached the shores of Tuscany, she cast her gaze to the south where one special island existed beyond the horizon and for a fleeting moment she thought she saw a dozen shadows floating across the vermillion sky.

  A word from Richard

  Thank you for reading book one of The Time Thief series. I hope it was as enjoyable for you to read as it was for me to write. The story will continue soon with part two: The Spirit Thief.

  I would like to acknowledge and thank Anthony Swingle, Janet Swingle, Mhairi Underwood and Melanie Underwood for their contributions to this book.

  There are always exciting updates coming through my author newsletter so why not subscribe to receive exclusive content, freebies and a behind the scenes look at my stories by visiting www.richardaswingle.com

  I would love to know your thoughts, so please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. This also helps spread the word about my books and enables me to continue writing more stories so you’d be making this writer very happy indeed!

  About the Author

  Richard A. Swingle is a British fantasy novelist from Brighton, in the UK. This is his second publication, part one of the The Thief series. He comes from a background of working in the Film and Television industry and has been actively writing since the age of fourteen when he discovered his passion for storytelling through making short films.

  Since then he has developed his storytelling interests as both a musician and novelist and continues to work as a director of photography in the film industry.

  Visit: www.richardaswingle.com to find out more.

  Other Publications:

  HARMION SERIES

  Harmion

  The Vermillion Isles coming soon!

  THE TIME THIEF SERIES

  The Heart Thief

  The Spirit Thief coming soon!

  Copyright © 2019 Richard A. Swingle

  The right of Richard A. Swingle to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  First published in Great Britain 2019

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Internal illustrations by Janet Swingle

  Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978-1-9161170-2-0 (B-format)

  ISBN 978-1-9161170-3-7 (Kindle eBook)

  www.richardaswingle.com