Misty Falls (7 page)

‘I think you’d be great at any of them—surgery, forensics.’ Alex weighed in on Phil’s side. ‘Don’t listen to Hugo: go for the one that really interests you.’ Just listening to Alex turn on his persuasive power and I would’ve been signing up myself at the nearest medical school if I’d had the slightest ambition to wear a white coat and stethoscope.

‘Thanks, bru. I’ll have to talk to Uriel about the options. I don’t think I have to pick for a few years if I choose the right undergrad course.’

‘Cool.’

There were a few seconds of no chat as they downed their drinks.

Phil tapped his empty bottle. ‘What about you, Alex? How are the scholarship applications going?’

‘Not heard yet. Miss Coetzee thinks I’ve a good chance of getting a full one to do politics, philosophy and economics at Oxford or maybe law at Cambridge or Yale. She thinks I’ll be ready this year with my grades.’

‘That’s big bucks you’re talking. OK for some.’ There was a rustle as Hugo chucked a crisp at Alex. ‘So next year, while we’re left behind in South Africa doing our last year at school, you’ll be off to start your international career somewhere really exciting, with a whole new pool of American or European girls to date.’

‘That’s the plan.’ Alex’s smile, glimpsed between the branches, gave the impression he was ready to try a broad sample. My flimsy plastic cup split in my grip, spilling the dregs of my lemonade on my thigh.

‘Girls like that cute little English girl?’ Hugo continued, the group’s troublemaker. ‘What was her name? Misty Devon?’ My heart missed a beat. I hadn’t expected to find myself part of the conversation. ‘You know, the one with the … ’ He gestured to his head to indicate my curls. I could hear the glee in Hugo’s question. I wanted to spit out at him that I was more than a bad hair day, but that would reveal my position. I wondered if I could retreat before they noticed I was there. But if I got up, they were sure to realize I had been listening and it would look, well, plain weird, if I crawled away on my hands and knees. Someone might come out of the house and see. I waited with a sick sense of anticipation for the answer.

To my eternal shame there was silence, then a snort of laughter from all of them.

‘Maybe not,’ said Alex coolly.

‘She kicked your ass at table tennis,’ Phil pointed out.

‘But that doesn’t make her the kind of girl I see myself dating. Far from it.’

‘Aw, don’t say you’re holding it against her? I thought her stylish win over you proved it was a match made in heaven. You need someone who can keep you humble.’

‘Maybe, but come on, guys: Misty?’

‘She struck me as sweet.’ Thank you, Michael, for that at least.

‘She’s way too young for me—and she looks like … ’ Alex faltered.

‘Looks like what?’ asked Michael. I withdrew my thanks as he egged his friend on to say something unforgivable.

‘Looks like she’s been put through a spin cycle.’

They hooted with laughter.

‘That’s harsh, Alex. Not like you.’ Hugo was enjoying his friend’s sharp tongue. I wasn’t: I was bleeding from the cuts.

‘Harsh but true. No, if I date someone, I’d like it to be a girl who wouldn’t make me feel embarrassed.’

Stuck-up feeble excuse of a charmer. I curled my knees to my chest, wishing I could vanish.

‘Misty? Misty? Time to go!’ Francie appeared in the kitchen doorway. ‘Ah, there you are.’

The boys fell silent.

Francie could see me plainly from where she stood, as well as the debate team on the other side of the bush. Nothing else for it: I rose, pins and needles tingling from my cramped position.

‘You ready to leave?’

‘Yes.’ No bribe on earth would make me look at Alex. I could feel his eyes on my back like sunrays.

‘Not tearing you away too soon, am I? I have an early shift and Uriel’s staying on to help Tarryn clear up.’

‘No, I want to leave now.’ Right now.

I’d forgotten Francie’s power to hear thoughts. Her eyes shot to the boys then back to me. ‘Oh.’

Yes, oh.

She scooped me up with a comforting arm around my hunched shoulders. ‘Take no notice of them. Sticks and stones.’

‘That proverb is so not true.’ I folded my arms over my chest, feeling as though they had started an autopsy on me right there, not just talked about one.

She whisked me through the guests, not drawing out the farewells as she might otherwise have done. ‘No, it’s not. But eavesdroppers … ’

‘Yes, I know. I should’ve moved earlier.’

‘But you felt shy.’

I had the first glimmer of humour about the situation. ‘Francie, you are so easy to talk to. You know what I’m going to say before I do.’

‘Ja, I often have long conversations with myself like that. Let’s take you home. Have a relaxing bath, play with your little cousins, forget about those boys.’

‘That’s what the doctor orders?’

‘Exactly. Distraction: best medicine there is.’

‘When I break the news about Uriel, I think I’ll have distraction enough for ten kinds of insults.’ At least I hoped so. I feared that the overheard conversation had burrowed its way under my skin like chigoe flea, a parasite that got into feet in tropical climates. It would lay nasty side-effects unless I burned it out of my memory.

As predicted, the next couple of days were filled with celebrations. Uriel and Tarryn had long Skype conversations with his family as he proudly introduced her to the Benedicts. Curled up on the sofa with a magazine, I enjoyed listening in on the one to Crystal and Xav, which they carried out on the family computer in Opal and Milo’s sitting room. Xav was roaring with laughter as he heard about the twin confusion.

‘Please, you’re killing me, Uri.’

‘It’s true. And then Misty lost control of her gift. People were confessing left, right and centre.’

Xav held his stomach. ‘No more.’

Crystal elbowed him. ‘Forgive my idiot of a soulfinder here. I imagine it wasn’t so funny for you at the time.’

Uriel’s lips curved in a smile. ‘It was ridiculous but I knew even then that I’d laugh later. Misty exiled herself to the parking lot so things settled down after that.’ He kissed Tarryn on the ear, then took a cheeky little nip at her lobe. ‘And then it got a whole lot better.’

‘So what are your plans now?’

‘We’re trying to mesh our lives together. First, I have my investigation to complete.’

‘Victor said it was going slowly.’

‘Far too slowly. I had already arranged to work with Dr Surecross this September for a few months to see if we can get some new leads on the killer’s identity. Have you heard of him, Xav?’

Xav had sobered now the conversation had turned serious. ‘Surecross? He’s based at Cambridge University, isn’t he? What’s his gift?’

‘Deduction—connections. He might make sense of the puzzle pieces I’ve been trying to put together. At the moment it just seems like featureless sky.’

‘And how about you, Tarryn?’ asked Crystal.

‘I’m going to carry on teaching here at least until the end of the academic year in December,’ said Tarryn. ‘I’ve got boys to see through their Matric and other school commitments. After that … ’ She looked into Uriel’s eyes and smiled.

I loved their total absorption in each other. Sure, they had a few issues to solve and needed time to get to know each other but their landing had been smooth after the minor turbulence on the way down. I couldn’t help feeling envious of them being so natural in their new relationship. A little bit jealous, aware I was on the outside of the lovey-dovey stuff between soulfinder couples, I put down my magazine and got up from the sofa to see if Opal needed any help with dinner.

‘There you are! How are you, Misty?’ asked Crystal as she spotted me walking through the back of the frame.

‘Good.’

‘Really?’

I knew then that Francie had spilled the beans to her sister that I had had a miserable time at the party. Tarryn must have tipped off Uriel and he had said something to Crystal—that’s how the jungle telegraph in our family works. I had to hope they didn’t know the specifics.

‘Yes, really. You know me: I carry embarrassing moments with me like a hippo does an oxpecker bird.’ The comparison was truer than they knew: the bird, a semi-parasite, cleaned the hippo’s wounds but also kept them open, just as the hurt reopened every time my mind circled back to Alex’s remark. ‘I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t have something going wrong around me.’

Crystal smiled sadly. ‘You have the oddest attachment to weird natural-world images. You and Brand must share the same family gene for that.’

I liked animals, was comfortable around them, because they couldn’t lie. The thought of my little cousin cheered me up. ‘He is the coolest two-year-old, Crystal. You’ll have to visit soon. You would just love to hear him imitate a lion. I can’t wait to see what he makes of the penguins.’

‘Penguins?’ asked Xav.

‘We’re going this afternoon to see them.’

‘Isn’t it a risk to take the animal magnet to a zoo? From what I’ve heard he’s an out-of-control Dr Doolittle.’

‘Not penguins in a zoo, Xav. Wild ones. This area is famous for them.’

‘Penguins in Africa—that is so
Madagascar
.’ Xav lounged back in his chair, ankle on knee. ‘Loved that movie.’

‘But these ones are native and don’t talk—or dance.’

‘They might if Brand is there,’ laughed Crystal.

As we couldn’t all fit in the Volvo, Uriel and Tarryn drove in her car to Simonstown, home of the Boulder Colony of penguins. A seaside resort south of Cape Town, Simonstown wasn’t that far but Willow bagged the front seat with the age-old excuse that she got the worst travel sickness. That left me a place in the back row. I didn’t mind as I was entertained by Brand’s repertoire of animal noises. Just when it was getting annoying, he fell asleep with the suddenness only a toddler can manage.

‘Did you take his batteries out?’ I asked Opal.

‘It’s the car. Best sleep aid available.’

Willow was in charge of the music, selecting tracks off my phone. By chance she picked ‘Lucky Strike’, batting me right back into the evening at Tarryn’s house.
Put it away
, I told myself.
You won’t have to see any of the boys from the debate team again. They live in South Africa and you live in England so it’s as if it never happened.

Summer would be proud of me figuring that one out for myself.

We drove into Simonstown, taking a road that ran parallel to the railway track. Beyond that, just a stone’s throw away, was the sea. The wind was strong, whipping white crests on the waves. The water’s surface was streaked: glass green in the shallows where the sun hit, dark emerald when cloud shadows passed, navy blue over rocks and seaweed clumps.

As we approached the centre, I decided that the town looked a very unlikely place to have penguins. The shops, houses and restaurants were a run of ornate white wooden facades, elegant balconies and covered porches. The marina bristled with pleasure craft and beyond that lay the rather more serious blunt silhouettes of destroyers belonging to the South African navy. The town had that cheerful but overwrought holiday atmosphere that most seaside places can’t shake off even in winter—a shade too many flags and promises of fun that aren’t quite delivered.

‘Where are the penguins?’ I asked.

Opal spotted a rare parking spot and pounced. ‘By the sea, of course. They’re in a nature reserve.’

‘You mean to protect them from the tourists?’

‘Actually, it could well be the other way round. They might look cute but they bite.’

‘Peck,’ corrected Willow with all the authority of someone who had recently done a school project on the subject. ‘They don’t have teeth.’

‘Cool.’

Eager to see the vicious birdlife of Simonstown, I got out and prepared the pushchair as Opal ladled a sleeping Brand from car seat to buggy. Willow fetched the changing bag and Hazel his drink, making it our record-breaker for parking to being ready to go, easily a match for a Formula One tyre change on a Grand Prix pit stop. I christened ours the Formula Milk race.

I propelled the pushchair along with thoughts of my favourite drivers whizzing round my brain circuitry. Brand slept through the rattling ride while Opal held her daughters’ hands tightly for the walk along the seafront to the kiosk. There were far too many temptations for the girls to continue in a straight line. The windows in the parade were full of happy-looking penguin souvenirs, socks, hats, stickers and—my top choice—a ‘Beware of the Penguin’ sign. I’d have to get that for my little brother Sunny.

Finally we arrived at our destination to see Uriel waiting outside the sanctuary.

‘I’ve already bought the tickets,’ he said when we approached.

‘Oh, you shouldn’t have,’ protested Opal.

‘It’s my pleasure after all you’ve done for me.’ He gestured over his shoulder. ‘Tarryn and Alex are in the shop.’

Tarryn and
Alex
. ‘What’s he doing here?’ I blurted out.

Uriel gave me a warning look. ‘Tarryn invited him, Misty. He’s a boarder and she thought he’d like to escape the school for an afternoon.’