And Then I Turned Into a Mermaid. Laura Kirkpatrick

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СКАЧАТЬ wonder what colour it’s going to be?’ Margot chattered excitedly, hopping from one foot to the other. Her long curly hair was wrapped up in a silk sleep turban, which she’d stolen from the snooty old lady on the promenade.

      ‘It better not be yellow. That’s my favourite colour.’ Melissa folded her arms across her chest.

      Margot snorted. ‘Definitely not pink. What’s the opposite of pink?’

      Myla pushed her glasses up her straight nose. ‘RGB and CMY are the correct representations of the spectrum of visible light, wherein the opposite of red is cyan, and the opposite of light is dark. Thus, the opposite of light red, a.k.a. pink, is dark cyan, a.k.a. teal.’

      Margot smirked. ‘Or . . . pinkn’t.’

      A wave crashed and fizzed on the sand, narrowly missing Molly’s feet. The tide was coming in.

      Molly was getting more irritated with every nonsensical comment. ‘What are you talking about, for the love of –’

      ‘Less of the lip, Molly,’ her mum tsked. Thankfully she was fully clothed this evening, which was a relief for everyone. ‘And for what it’s worth, my money’s on tangerine.’

      Molly pressed her teeth down on her tongue to stop the snarky comment from escaping. But just then, another wave lapped at the shore, at Molly’s feet, and the tips of her toes began to tingle.

      She blinked against the moonlight, wriggling her toes in her now too-tight wellington boots. The tingle continued to spread, a confusing warmth building in the arches of her feet, shooting up the planes of her shins and wrapping around the crooks of her knees.

      Am I having a stroke? she wondered, terror growing in her chest.

      Her great-uncle had a stroke once, back when Molly was in primary school. Apparently he smelled burnt toast when it happened. Molly sniffed the air in desperation, trying to pick up a trace of charred Hovis, but all that met her nostrils was the tangy stench of seaweed. And, you know, seagull poop.

      ‘What’s happening to m–’ she started, before realising her discomfort was causing excitement levels amongst her siblings to skyrocket. The more her legs shook like jelly, the more they grinned and squealed. ‘Seriously, why–Ooft!’

      Suddenly her legs clamped together, causing Molly’s balance to be entirely thrown off. She fell backwards and hit the sand with a muffled thud, eyes watering from the impact. As she did, her loud-mouthed family fell deadly silent.

      ‘Can someone help me up?’ Molly moaned, massaging the spot on her shoulder that had taken the brunt of the fall. Nobody moved. ‘Or, you know, don’t, and just watch me suffer.’

      Still silence.

      Her hip was aching too. Molly went to rub it, and let out a squeal.

      It felt like . . . scales?

      Molly gasped, wriggling into the best sitting position she could manage. She was terrified to look down, but her eyes tugged her there anyway.

      No. Surely not. She had a tail.

      A mermaid’s tail, whiter than snow.

      She was dreaming. She had to be. Or was it an elaborate practical joke? Margot was famous for her pranks, and this was a particularly impressive one. Next she’d be turning Fit Steve into a centaur. Molly didn’t think she’d mind that, actually. She’d always thought centaurs were weirdly handsome.

      ‘Very funny, Margot,’ she said, trying to find the place where the tail ended and her waist began so she could wrench the darn thing off. But even in the starlight, Molly could see that Margot was pale as the moon, lips pressed into a faint pink line. And, most notably, Margot also had a tail. Pillar-box red and speckled with coppery sparkles.

      In fact, they all did. Mum, who was now paddling in a rock pool, had a tail of dreamy lavender. Melissa’s was buttercup-yellow, and Myla’s was deep emerald-green with silver shimmers.

      Really, this was a very advanced practical joke. Molly had to applaud Margot. She had definitely evolved from the days of cling film over the loo.

      She was about to congratulate her sister on her world-class pranking abilities when something stopped her in her tracks. Her hand had found the place where the tail joined her waist, high up near her belly button, but there was no seam. It was like the scales were welded to her skin. Like they really were a part of her.

      The thought sent her stomach into a spiral, and dizzy spots prickled around her vision.

      ‘Um, guys? What’s going on?’ she asked.

      Myla was the first to speak. ‘It’s white. That’s . . . different.’

      ‘That’s boring,’ Melissa added.

      Margot snorted. ‘When it’s Minnie’s turn, I’m starting an official sweepstake, and I’m putting all my worldly possessions on mauve.’

      Molly felt four pairs of eyes boring into her, like when the kittiwakes watch you intently in case you drop a chip. She still felt dazed and woozy, the way she did when she was drifting off to sleep.

      Forcing some strength into her voice, she muttered, ‘If you’re done with your nonsense commentary, I have some questions.’

      ‘Right! Yes, of course,’ said Mum, wiggling her pale purple tail in the rock pool. ‘What would you like to know?’

      Molly stared at her. ‘Well, I thought that might be obvious.’

      ‘Well, we thought the mermaid thing might be obvious,’ Margot snarked back.

      Molly shot her a dagger-filled glare.

      Shuffling up on to a rock, her mum said gently, ‘You’re half-mermaid, sweetie.’

      ‘Half ?’

      ‘Your dad was a regular human.’

      Molly never thought she’d envy her long-lost father for something as basic as his biology. ‘Lucky him.’

      Mum ignored the snark. ‘Anyway, now that you’re thirteen, your mermaid side has awoken. You’re old enough to explore the other part of your life. Your tail. Your mermaidhood. But don’t go in the deep sea. It’s no longer safe. Especially for half-humans.’

      ‘Oh, right, of course,’ Molly muttered. ‘No sea. I’ll just flop around on the promenade, then. How about ponds? Are ponds dangerous? Or bogs?’

      ‘Ponds are fine,’ Mum answered, as though it had been a serious question. ‘I wouldn’t recommend bogs.’

      Molly’s mind raced. Surely, surely she was dreaming. And yet when she bit down hard on her tongue, she didn’t wake up. Her chest pounded, and her breathing grew quicker and quicker as she tried to fight back the tide of panic.

      ‘But mermaids aren’t real,’ she said, her words growing in uncertainty the more she examined her bright white tail. ‘They . СКАЧАТЬ