Summer Secrets (13 page)

I whisk my eyes away. “Water’s lovely, isn’t it?” I start to feel embarrassed. “But I’d better get back.”

I try to stand up but lurch forwards, falling on top of Kit. I give his nose quite a whack with the palm of my hand. “Sorry.” I try to scramble away from him, but I slip again and end up sitting on his lap instead.
Morto!

He puts his hands round my waist. “Easy, tiger.”

His face is inches from mine; his strong hands are still holding my waist and I can almost feel the texture of his skin through my T-shirt. My heart starts to pound and I suddenly have this overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“You OK?” he asks, taking his hands away.

“Yes,” I say and then start to gabble with nerves. “Quite fine. A bit wet, of course, but otherwise unharmed.” I stand up, holding on to the side of the pond this time to steady myself, and then sit down carefully on the ledge.

Kit says nothing, his eyes fixed on mine. The silence begins to feel uncomfortable.

“Better head back.” I look away to break the gaze.

“Aye.” He steps out and holds his hand out to me.

As soon as our skin connects –
zing!
It’s like an electric current running up my arm, and I almost gasp. His palm feels rough and hard, and his hand is much bigger than mine; his fingers reach the top of my wrist.

When I’m out of the pool and standing beside him, he drops my hand. “Best follow me,” he says. “Don’t want you getting lost.”

The path is too narrow for us to walk side by side, so I follow behind him, Jack trotting along behind us. We both drip on to the dusty path.

At the entrance I say, “Sorry for getting you so wet.”

“’S OK.” He gazes at me with those intense eyes. “What were you looking for, anyway?”

“Sorry?”

“In the maze. Were you looking for me?” From the smile on his lips, I can tell he’s pleased at the thought.

I swallow and look away, hoping I don’t look too guilty. “No! I just wanted to test out the wall-following rule. You know, the one about keeping one hand on the wall. Our Classics teacher told us about it.”

He winks at me. “Just as well you found me, then. The walls of this maze aren’t connected. You’d have got lost and the Lough Ine Minotaur would have eaten you.” He grins.

“You know the story?”

“Aye.”

“Amy!” Clover is shouting from the French doors at the back of the house. “Lover-boy’s on the phone from Italy. Quick!” She’s waving the house phone in the air.

I turn to say goodbye to Kit, but he’s already disappeared.

Taking the phone off Clover, who’s making kissing noises at me, I walk inside. I don’t want anyone to hear my conversation, so I lock myself in the downstairs toilet and sit on the closed loo seat. “Seth? Are you still there?”

“Hi, Amy. What took you so long?”

“I was checking out the maze.” I’m about to tell him about Kit but I stop, aware that my feelings for Kit might not be strictly platonic. “What’s the weather like over there?” I ask instead.

“Sweltering. We’ve given up on sightseeing; it’s too hot.”

“I’m sure that will suit Jin just fine. She can show off her tan in her dental-floss bikini.”

Seth says nothing.

I give a snide laugh, then plough on. “Not that you’d be interested, of course – in her big jelly puppies flopping around in her tiny bikini tops.”
Amy, just stop talking
, I tell myself. “Seth. Seth? Are you still there? I didn’t mean it. About the puppies. Ignore me.”

“Amy, what were you just saying? I couldn’t make it out. Something about puppies. Sorry, this line is terrible.”

Thank you, god of teenage motormouths. He didn’t even hear my green-eyed delirium.

“Nothing important,” I trill. “Just talking about Dad’s new dog. Dad’s arriving on Tuesday. With Shelly. Mum’s going to go even more mental once they get here. Anyway, thanks for ringing. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. And Amy?”

“Yes?”

The phone goes dead. Typical. And then suddenly I remember – it’s 12 July, Seth’s birthday. I meant to sing “
Tanti Auguri
”, the Italian version of “Happy Birthday”, to him. I found it on YouTube last night and learned the words specially. But I got a bit distracted by Kit and the maze and everything. I’d like to ring Seth back, but I don’t have the number. “
Siúcra!
” I mutter.

I’m damp and uncomfortable so I stamp upstairs to change. I struggle grumpily out of my sodden jeans and knickers, kicking them into the corner of the room, and put on dry ones. Seth doesn’t deserve such a useless girlfriend.

Chapter 22

Clover
lies back and hits her head on a rock. “What is it with this beach?” She rubs the back of her skull. “A beach isn’t a beach without sand. We should have stayed at the other one.”

We’re sitting on a stony beach on the far side of the island, away from the noisy babies who invaded the sandy beach with their buckets and spades.

“We shouldn’t be relaxing on a beach, anyway,” I remind her. “We’re supposed to be working. The new agony-aunt pages won’t wait, you know.”

Clover laughs. “You sound just like Saffy. Scary biscuits. Why does everyone keep going on about work? Work smirk. Gramps is just as bad.”

“Why?”

“He keeps going on at me about college. It’s
trés
boring.”

“What
are
you up to in September? Are you going to take another year out?”

Clover’s really clever – she never did a tap of work at school but still managed to get in to do English and history of art at Trinity College, which is pretty good going.

“I haven’t decided. I might see if I can defer another year. The magazine’s keen to keep me on. As long as Saskia doesn’t nab my job, that is.” She bites her lip.

“Can’t you do both? It’s only arts.”

She throws a pebble at my feet. “Less of that, Beanie. Arts
are
hard, I’ll have you know. What are you going to do, then? Rocket science?”

“Maybe. I
am
good at maths.”

Clover puts on a smug voice. “Hello, I’m Amy Sylvie Mabel Green. I’m an absolute genius at maths; I know pi to ten places after the decimal point and I’m not afraid to use it.”

I laugh nervously. The thing is, I do know pi to ten decimal places. (It’s 3.1415926535.) I also know it in binary numbers. Well, a bit of it – 11.0010 – and I know it’s 3.24 in hexadecimals. (Don’t ask!) I have a bit of a thing about pi. It’s just so interesting and really important too. Loads of maths and science formulas depend on it.

“But seriously,” I say, “what are you going to do about college?”

“We’ll see,” she says noncommittally. “But speaking of the magazine, how’s Mills getting on with her American boy?”

“OK. She’s doing her best to attract his attention, and at least he talks to her now, but nothing’s really happened yet.” I read Mills’s latest email last night. She sounds a bit fed up. “And Marlon and Betty are driving her crazy.”

Clover snorts. “I’m not surprised. With any luck they’ll be gobbled up by Miami gators. That’s what the Miami mafia do with all the murdered bodies.” She pulls her laptop out of her bag and opens it up. “I suppose we’d better get cracking.”

Just then a stone lands inches away from Clover’s head.

“Hey!” She swings round.

Denis is staring down at us.

“Denis, you little—” Clover stops herself. “Denis, that wasn’t very nice. Get down here.”

To my surprise, he actually does what she says, standing in front of her, a black look on his face.

“What do you say?” she asks.

“Sorry I missed,” he says.

Clover shakes her head. “You’re not making things easy for yourself, Denis. I don’t know why we bother even talking to you.”

He wanders off towards the water, picks up a huge stone and chucks it in. The splash soaks our legs.

“Denis!” I yell.

“Get over here!” Clover shouts in a steely voice even I wouldn’t mess with.

Denis lumbers over, his feet dragging through the stones. “What?”

“Why are you being so horrible? And stop scowling at me. You’d be very handsome if you’d only stop with the faces.”

Denis looks surprised.

“Now apologize properly,” Clover says firmly.

“Sorry, Clover,” he murmurs.

And you know something? I think he means it.

At ten o’clock that evening I finally get round to ringing Seth back. He rang Haven House when Clover and I were at the beach. I hope Esther won’t be too cross about one emergency phone call to Italy.

A female voice answers.
“Pronto.”

“Hello, I’m looking for Seth Stone.”

“Oh, hi!” says a perky English voice. “This is Jin. You must be Amy. Seth’s told me so much about you; I feel like we’re best friends. He’s been expecting you. Hang on a mo.”

The line goes quiet and in the background I hear her shout, “Seth!”

So that’s Jin. I instantly come over all prickly. Best friends? When she’s clearly after Seth? How dare she? I shouldn’t have bothered ringing at all.

“Hi, Amy.” Seth sounds very chirpy. He’s probably just stolen a passing kiss from Jin. I bet she’s in the room now, laughing at me.
Stupid Amy, doesn’t she know she’s no match for my Jin jelly puppies?
“You got the message, then.”

“Yes,” I say tightly. “But I’m sorry to interrupt you.”

“Interrupt me? Are you OK? You sound a bit funny. And you didn’t call me back earlier.”

“I was busy – and besides, you didn’t give me the number.”

“You could have sent an email – or are you too busy to email your sad and lonely boyfriend on his birthday?”

I snort. “Get a grip, Seth. You’re hardly sad and lonely, are you.”

“Sorry?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean. Jin.”

“Jin?” He laughs. “We’re just friends.”

“Don’t give me that. She’s a boyfriend predator. She’s been moving in on you from day one, admit it. And stop talking to her about me. It’s creepy.”

Seth laughs again. “Amy, you’re being paranoid. There’s nothing going on between me and Jin. In fact, she’s got—” He breaks off. “What? Oh, right. Amy, I’m really sorry, Jin’s mum wants to use the phone. I have to go. But I’ll ring you back in half an hour. OK?”

“Don’t bother. Actually, don’t bother contacting me ever again. From now on, we are officially over, Seth – understand? You hop along. Go and play with Jin.”

“Amy, you’re overreacting. I can’t talk about this right now, but—”

“Why? Is Jin’s mum cute too?”

“Amy! Yuck, what a thought. She’s ancient. No way, José. I’m not interested in anyone else, I swear. Look, can we talk about this later?”

“No. I’m sorry, Seth, but now
I
have to get off the phone. Please don’t ring me again – I mean it.” I click off the phone.

Tears start to stream down my face and I have a lump the size of a hockey ball in my throat.

What have I just done?

Chapter 23

“No!”
I scream at Mum. “I won’t be bloody reasonable. Why can’t I go to Cork with Clover? It’s so unfair. Dad won’t be here for hours.”

“I’m sorry, Amy, but you just can’t, and that’s final. Deal with it. And if you don’t stop swearing at me, you’re going straight to your room.”

“I’m thirteen; you can’t send me to my room.”

“Yes, I can. You may be thirteen, young lady, but I’m still your mother.”

“Fine, then. I’ll go to my bloody room. Happily. Anything to get away from you. I HATE YOU!” I storm out of the kitchen, stomp up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door behind me, and flop down on the bed.

Clover stares at me, the lip gloss in her hand frozen in mid-air. “Ah, Mama say no,” she says.

I fold my arms tightly across my chest. “Mum’s being a complete cow and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“She does have a point. Your dad and Shelly might be a bit miffed if you’re in Cork on the first night of their holliers. They’re only here for a few days.”

I glare up at her. “Not you as well. I thought you’d be on my side.”

“I
am
on your side, Beanie.” Clover sits down on the edge of the bed and tries to give me a hug, but I shrug her arms away. She gets up and swings her overnight bag on to her shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Look, I’m sorry about all this—”