Misty Falls (10 page)

The conversation turned to cricket and I tuned out. Uriel nudged me.

‘Misty, can I ask something?’

I squeezed the ketchup on my mushroom and squidged down the bun lid. ‘Fire away.’

‘What’s with you and Alex? Is there something more going on between you than Tarryn and I know about? His awkwardness with you seems a bit extreme for a lost table tennis match.’

‘You’re right there.’ I took a bite and thought about how to frame my answer. ‘I think it’s me. Or rather him-plus-me. He doesn’t like the person he becomes when he’s in my company.’ I hadn’t realized it until I spoke the words but I thought I now understood what had been going on.

‘Your gifts clash?’ Uriel got my point at once.

‘Think about it: he’s always charming but in my zone I make him rude and a bit harsh. He hates it. I think he feels out of control.’

Uriel rubbed his chin, making that brittle sound that only guys can do as fingers meet emerging bristles. ‘I can see how that might shake him up. I’ll let Tarryn know. She’s been worrying about him. She’s told me that he has been really down the last few weeks.’

Since he met me.

‘She’s worried she made the wrong choice advancing him a year, but he really is outstandingly intelligent.’

‘Have you told Alex what my gift is?’

Uriel wrinkled his brow, remembering. ‘No, I don’t think it came up.’

‘He might feel better about himself if you explain it’s my fault.’ Second thoughts: I didn’t like offering myself up to shoulder the blame. ‘But maybe it’s good for him to be exposed to me. Remind him he’s fallible like the rest of us.’

Uriel did not share my glee at the thought of cutting Alex down to size. ‘I don’t think he needs anyone attacking his confidence.’ He glanced down the table to where Alex was making Willow a crown out of serviettes, charming the socks off the under tens. So adorable. I had no trouble liking Alex from a distance; it was the close-up thing that caused the problems.

Uriel pushed his empty plate aside, voice low. ‘It might help you to understand where he’s coming from when you know that he’s got no one to care for him other than Tarryn and the staff at the school.’

I put down my wilting garden burger. ‘What do you mean by that? Is he an orphan?’

Uriel shook his head. ‘That might’ve been easier. He was abandoned by his parents when his gift came through. They aren’t savants and have some really strong prejudices against us. They think it must be witchcraft or black magic. Having a son able to juggle toys with his mind sent them crazy. They tried to beat it out of him, then threw him out when that failed.’

‘But surely you can’t just kick out your child for being different? There have to be laws to prevent that.’

‘You’d think so but the rest of his family left the country, last heard of in Argentina. They’re on the run. They told Alex—he was three at the time—that they were running from a demon. They meant him.’

‘Geez.’ I rubbed my chest, feeling the echo of that harsh truth as Uriel’s words sank in. ‘Only three. Yeah, sure, I’ll be nicer to him now I know that.’

‘Thanks. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you but as he’s coming to Cambridge I thought it better to set you straight on a few things. Tarryn wants to build up his confidence, not undermine it. Try not to let him know you know.’

‘Uriel, I can’t lie.’

‘Right. I forgot.’ He ran his hand through his hair, annoyed at his oversight. ‘Just don’t raise the subject. He’s sensitive about it as you can imagine.’

‘Yeah, I can imagine.’ Alex put the finished crown on Willow’s head and turned to making one for Hazel. He claimed he knew nothing about families and I could now understand why he said that, but he was doing a grand job entertaining the girls. He had more skills than he knew. If the time seemed right, I’d tell him.

Uriel’s phone beeped.

‘Apologies. I should’ve turned it off.’ Uriel checked the message.

Tarryn, sitting with Milo and Opal, looked up, alert to anything that disturbed her soulfinder. ‘Uri, what’s happened?’

Uriel’s mood darkened considerably.

‘Bad news?’ I asked, mind dashing to all my family and friends.

‘Yes.’ Uriel got up. ‘But it’s a work matter.’ He brushed my shoulder. ‘Nothing you need worry about. Enjoy your party. I’ll just take this outside.’

Uriel headed out to the viewpoint. Tarryn made her excuses and hurried to join him.

‘Work?’ asked Hugo. ‘I thought he was an academic.’

‘Academics do work, bru,’ Phil drawled, eating his last chip.

‘Uriel does forensic investigations for the American authorities,’ I explained, recalling the conversation on the plane and the murders that he was looking into for the FBI. I thought I could say that much without breaking any confidences.

‘So does that mean someone has died?’ asked Phil, sounding keen rather than upset at the idea. He would make a good pathologist with that ghoulish enthusiasm.

‘Probably, but I don’t think he likes talking about it,’ I warned.

‘Now who wants dessert?’ called Uncle Milo, changing the mood from sombre to happy. Several hands went up among the younger members of our party.

‘Great idea. What’ve they got?’ I took the menu from the waitress. My choice was obvious. ‘Chocolate Penguin Surprise, please.’

Down the other end of the table, Brand made his impressive penguin call which sounded like a car with a flat battery trying to start. He banged a spoon on his high chair table. The restaurant fell silent.

‘Oops,’ I murmured. ‘Note to self: don’t mention penguins.’

Alex leapt up and put a bottle in Brand’s mouth to stop the noise. ‘Something caught in his throat,’ he lied quickly.

Right on cue, Brand made a sound like a cat with a fur ball. Opal hurried over to pat his back but from the gleam in the toddler’s eye it was just another act. She murmured thanks to Alex, who smiled charmingly in reply.

I gave him a point for a good save even though his fib made my throat ache.

No doubt about it: Alex and I were better off living on different continents.

As if hearing my thoughts, Alex’s eyes met mine down the length of the table, a thrilling jolt of blue fire. My bones tingled in the aftermath of my lie. It appeared there was more doubt in my mind than I liked to admit.

Cornwall, England

I got off the minibus outside the Smugglers Cove Lodge to find Angel and Summer were waiting for me. Bag thrown on the ground, I disappeared into a group hug.

‘Hey, you guys, it’s so great to see you!’ I checked them over to see if they’d changed since Easter when we last met up. ‘Summer, you look fabulous!’

She did. Were those some sneaky long layers in her black hair? The bits at the front now curled round onto her chest rather than falling down the back with the rest.

Summer wiped the back of her hand across her brow with exaggerated relief. ‘Phew! I wasn’t sure what you were going to say. You reduced my confidence to dust over those white jeans last time.’

‘And what about me?’ asked Angel, prodding my ribs. ‘Don’t I look gorgeous too?’

I grinned. ‘Angel, you look just the same as ever.’

‘Bah. I’m taking that as a compliment.’

‘It is.’ I always envied Angel for her straight hair, the colour of wild honey; she told me she was jealous of my curls. Both of us spent a fortune on hair products trying to be like the other. The only party happy with that outcome were the makers of the lotions and potions. Moral of that story: I should quit worrying about my hair and invest in the cosmetics industry.

‘Earth to Misty?’ Summer was used to my little mind-wanders.

‘Oh, sorry. Just planning how I’m going to make my first million.’ I picked up my bag. The other savants who had come in my busload had already gone inside the lodge to reception. The campsite at Smugglers Cove looked more like a wooded dell than a sea inlet. I could see cabins scattered among the silver birch trees. ‘Verdict?’

‘Not bad,’ said Angel, leading me inside. ‘We’re sharing a cabin. There was supposed to be a fourth girl but they said something about her being a no-show.’

‘That’s a shame but then it’s fun to be just the three of us.’ I put my bag down by the desk and signed in, my name a big looping scrawl compared to the neat ones above mine.

‘Having a fourth would’ve made it even more Famous Five,’ said Summer. ‘Do you think they thought about that when they chose the name for this place?’

Angel shook her head. ‘No, it really is what the cove is called. I checked a map.’

‘Awesome. So we’re near the sea?’ I asked.

‘You can’t see it from here but it’s not far. Just through the trees and then down a steep path.’

The sun was shining; the first event wasn’t until four; I had my two best friends with me and my swimming costume in my bag … 

‘Let me just dump my stuff in the cabin, then are you up for a swim?’

‘Need you ask?’ said Angel.

The cove was everything you could hope for in a little Cornish beach: a half-moon of pale sand, plenty of interesting rocks to climb or jump from, a chilly but blue stretch of sheltered water. The tide was coming in so we had to leave our towels and shoes further up the beach. Holding hands we readied ourselves for our annual ritual.

‘On the count of three. No hesitations. No deviations. No turning back,’ said Angel.

‘One. Two. Three!’ counted Summer.

Screaming as we ran down the beach, we went straight into the water, wincing at the cold. The penalty for not going in first time was to have the others throw you in so there was a big incentive not to chicken out.

‘I can’t feel my legs!’ squawked Angel.

‘You’re lucky. I can and they’re begging me to get out.’ Summer strode on further. ‘Now for the waist. Ooo-ow!’

‘Shoulders under and then it gets better!’ I shouted as I always did. I struck out, going for a vigorous crawl to get the blood circulating. My friends were only a stroke behind. We swam around a half-submerged rock. By the time we faced the shore again we were all acclimatized to the temperature. I hung weightless, enjoying the rocking sensation of the waves.

‘Beats swimming in a pool,’ sighed Angel.

‘Certainly does.’ I smiled as Angel played with the droplets running off her fingers, making them spin in the sunshine. ‘I haven’t been in the sea since last year.’

‘But I thought you went on the beach in South Africa. We saw the photographs.’ She giggled.

‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Angel, but it’s winter at the other end of the world. Far too cold. I went in my aunt and uncle’s pool but that’s heated by solar power.’

‘And did Hunk-of-the-Month go in with you?’

Both my friends had been quick to ‘like’ my postings of Alex.

‘It wasn’t that way between us.’ I floated on my back, enjoying the tickle of my hair drifting around me. Alex: blue eyes, charming smile, swirl of chestnut hair, deep voice that got inside you … 

A girl-made wave splashed me. ‘Why ever not?’ said Angel. ‘Here was I hoping you’d come back with tales of romance to while away the campfire evenings.’

I trod water and shook the droplets from my face. ‘I’ll pay you back for that.’

‘Of course.’ Angel would expect no less from me. ‘But first tell me how you could possibly turn down a guy like that. He was looking at you taking the photo with such, ooo,
hunger
.’ She shivered.

‘Sadly, he manages to project that rip-off-my-shirt sex-appeal to everyone. It’s as natural to him as breathing. He and I didn’t hit it off. Our gifts clashed.’ I frowned. ‘Or more accurately, mine cancelled his out. Not a good combo.’

‘Really?’ This piqued Summer’s interest. ‘He’s a savant? Did you check his date of birth?’

I started swimming for shore. If I was going to be interrogated on my awkward relationship with Alex, I preferred to do so with sand under my feet. ‘Why? Are you saying that clashing with each other is a promising sign? I don’t think so. Besides, he’s a year ahead so must be too old for me. My birthday’s the thirtieth of December. He must be well outside the two weeks either side normally allowed for potential hits.’

I waded out and wrapped myself in a towel. Grains of sand coated my feet like slippers. Angel and Summer joined me on the shore. Summer had a butterfly-print cotton robe to put on so wasn’t freezing like Angel and I were. She’s good at forward planning.

Summer squeezed her hair. ‘I’m just saying you shouldn’t discount it. As you pointed out, it’s winter down there. Their school years run differently from ours. He might not be as old as you think.’

Oh my goodness. ‘You’re right. I’m as dumb as a brick sometimes.’ It suddenly seemed of immense importance to text Tarryn and ask. ‘Shall we go back and shower?’ I dragged my sandals nearer with a tug of telekinesis.

‘Sure. First one to the cabin gets the bathroom!’ Angel was already running as she shouted this.

Summer and I walked back, knowing we’d lost that race.

‘Now remind me: why did her parents pick that name for her?’ asked Summer.

‘I don’t think either of them had a gift of foresight,’ I replied.

When we arrived for the camp briefing in the lodge games room, we discovered that many old friends had pitched up during the afternoon. The English savant youth camp had a core membership of teens from thirteen to eighteen; most of us were regulars and we had already checked out the birthday thing so knew that, unless a new person joined us, we were all destined just to be friends rather than soulfinders. The outcome was that we could all relax in each other’s company. It was great to be with the other people of our age who understood the trials of living with a gift. We could rehash our triumphs and failures over the year and expect a sympathetic audience. I was usually much in demand for an account of my last twelve months as I was something of a long-running joke for most of them. I was sort of OK with that but under my bluff laugh-it-off demeanour, I didn’t find it so amusing. It worried me that I couldn’t control my gift. If my experience in South Africa was anything to judge by, I was getting worse at it, not better. I tried to console myself with the thought that at least I didn’t start fires like Yves Benedict, Xav’s younger brother, when I let it slip.