The Last Charm. Ella Allbright

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СКАЧАТЬ way I could confide any of this to Dad. We’d both be mortified by that type of conversation.

      I twist the silver bracelet around my left wrist, playing with the handful of charms hanging off it. It holds six now: a plain silver heart; a tiny pencil; a silver conch shell with a pink interior; an open book with squiggly lines etched into its pages; a round disc with the sea, a setting sun, some seagulls, and a boat engraved on it with a tiny blue gem stone on its hull; and finally, a minuscule silver dog, which arrived this morning. Despite what Dad and Grandad Ray say about Mum never being in touch with them, she must be. How else would she know to send me the dog charm today?

      The only time I’ve ever taken the bracelet off was when I was rushed to A&E a few years ago and one of the nurses insisted I remove it when they were treating my burns. She didn’t want me to lose it in the hustle and bustle of the hospital, she said, while helping me into the open-backed gown. I shudder, not liking to think about that night. There are too many bad memories.

      I turn the dog charm between my fingers, a smile touching my lips. The bracelet sometimes looks bare because it has so many empty links, but I have faith Mum will send more charms to fill it up. Most of the time I resent her for leaving and never coming back, for not staying in touch on a regular basis. But at other times I’m just glad she makes the effort with the charms, even if it’s only every few years. It means that every so often, she thinks about me. That she cares, even if her stubbornly continued absence says the complete opposite.

      I try and shrug off the thoughts which could lead me into a black cycle of pain and despair. The blare of music is rising, and as we trudge along the beach to find Jonny and his friends, I realise there isn’t one central source of sound. My ears pick out different tunes blaring from a variety of speakers and the contrasting beats and tempos thrum through my body. With them, my spirits rise. We’re free at last. School’s over, my uniform’s in the big black refuse bin. We’re done. And when we go back in September, it’ll be different; we’ll be treated like adults.

      As we move from one group of kids to the next I raise my hand and wave at people, smiling and nodding. Tipping my head back to swallow more beer, I gaze up at the peaks and dips of the chalk cliffs towering above us, the tops and sides of them covered with vibrant green grass. The pockmarked cliff face sweeps down to the beach, and in some places, I can make out small caves running along the base. Some kids are already climbing up to explore them. Three points for guessing what the caves will be used for later.

      A giggle escapes me. After months of feeling somehow apart from others, with the pressure of revision, exams, and my future on my shoulders – things only I could do something about – I suddenly feel part of something bigger, unified in something amazing with the people around me. There’s a crackle of energy in the air, like electricity. I grin. This is going to be fun. What could possibly go wrong?

      ***

      It’s getting late. The sun’s rays have dimmed, and a couple of campfires have been built with driftwood to provide flickering light. It’s past 10pm, and everyone has gathered into one big mass, a knot of teenagers in a jagged circle. Music’s still playing, voices rising and falling in unpredictable patterns above the melodies. The day’s still muggy but the air isn’t quite as warm on our skin. My bum is going numb from sitting on the shingle, but I’ve had a great time. It has been fun. We’ve eaten, danced, drunk, laughed, and played. We swam, we splashed each other, and Jonny shocked us all by stripping off and jumping into the waves naked in front of everyone – a challenge to Eloise in his eyes. I honestly didn’t know where to look, so instead dove into the salty green-blue of the waves, closing my eyes against the image.

      The fabric of my T-shirt drifted against my skin over my swimsuit, and for a moment I pretended I was a mermaid and that if I kept swimming, I’d find a magical world out there under the sea. It was a fanciful thought, and I was embarrassed by it – I’m nearly sixteen, for God’s sake – but as soon as it flowed through my head, a vivid picture formed, and I knew I’d be painting that mermaid someday. For a moment I wondered if I was drunk, but I’d only had one can of beer. I’m glad of it now as I don’t have that floaty, out-of-touch feeling I get after three or four.

      Huddling in my beach towel next to Shell, our eyes meet. We share a smile before looking over at Eloise and Jonny kissing, and then at Chloe, who’s curled up shyly within the semi-circle of Simon’s arm. She’s gazing up at him in adoration. I’m both happy for her and sad at the same time, with a hint of jealousy thrown in which I immediately feel bad about.

      ‘Hey, isn’t that Jake Harding?’ Shell asks suddenly, gazing across the fire at a small group that’s broken off from the rest of us.

      Tension runs through my body. ‘What? Where?’ I squint across at them.

      ‘Yeah, he came with Owen Plaitford.’ Eloise finally detaches her mouth from Jonny’s and looks at me as I twist back to face her. ‘They stayed friends after he left. I spoke to Owen earlier.’

      ‘What?’ I squeak. She could have said. Then, I scowl. If he’s stayed in touch with Owen, why hasn’t he stayed in touch with me? I thought he liked me, but maybe I was fooling myself and it was just a passing friendship, like the intense ones when you meet people on holiday, sharing secrets with them, and then never seeing them again.

      I’ve always wondered what happened to Jake after his dad tore him away that day, feeling guilty for my part in it. Now, every time I see Pandora sitting on my packed bookshelf or catch sight of my book charm, I remember that short skinny boy and I’m caught between a mixture of gratitude and annoyance. If it all meant nothing, why did he give me the charm, especially when he knew how important the bracelet was to me?

      ‘So, Leila, are you going to make my night, or what?’ A pair of wet shorts appear in front of my face, their owner thrusting his groin towards me.

      I rear back. ‘Urgh! Leave it out, Shaun,’ I groan, shaking my head.

      He’s Jonny’s friend, and thinks it’s hysterical to pretend he fancies me and try it on. At school, he’ll sneak up behind me and grab me around the waist to pick me up or pluck my bag off my shoulder and make me chase him for it. Once he stuck his face in my neck and pretended to snog me loudly in front of everyone. I laughed and half-heartedly pushed him off, knowing we’re just friends, noticing how he watched for Shell’s reaction from the corner of his eye.

      Leaning over, Shaun lifts me off the sand, bringing me in tight for a big hug, soaking my T-shirt and swimsuit all over again.

      ‘Shaun, you git!’ I yelp. ‘I only just dried off!’

      ‘Git?’ He mock roars. ‘I’ll teach you, you uppity little cow!’ Bending his knees, he tries to scoop me up over his shoulder, but I leap out of the way squealing.

      Just as I open my mouth to laugh, a hand yanks Shaun backwards by the shoulder, sending him flying with the unexpected strength of it. ‘Leave her alone!’ A deep voice yells. I see Shaun’s feet leave the ground and he actually sails through the air like something out of a cartoon, his back arched. There’s a muffled ‘oof’ as he lands on the shingle not far from the fire. The breath whooshes from him and he curls over onto his side.

      ‘Shaun!’ Shell and I run over as Chloe and Eloise spring to their feet. He’s lying on the ground, red-faced and groaning.

      Shell drops to her knees and rolls him over, moving his head onto her lap, her hair streaming down around their faces. ‘Are you okay?’

      ‘Shit.’ Wheezing, he takes a deep breath. ‘Yeah, think … so …’ he mutters. ‘Just winded. What СКАЧАТЬ