Scarlett Part 9

'Definitely. I can't wait to meet him.'

I chuck a pillow at her, laughing. 'You are NOT meeting him!' I exclaim. 'No way! Seriously, no way!'

'We'll see,' she laughs.

Holly has a friend from school coming over for the day, so I pack my rucksack with bread and apples, ready for a day at the lough. There's no way I want to see any of those Kilimoor kids again ever.

Clare looks up from the table, where she is st.i.tching new patches into the quilt. Beside her is a heap of sc.r.a.p fabric and a roll of red ribbon, partly unfurled, snaking here and there through the rags. A memory flickers across my mind, a good memory.

'What's the ribbon for?' I ask Clare.

'Not sure yet,' she admits. 'It was going cheap and I thought it might come in useful. Maybe I'll use it as an edging?'

'Right,' I say.

Clare studies me, eyes narrowed. 'Unless you want it?' she says. 'You'd be very welcome, Scarlett.'

I try for a couldn't-care-less look, but my grin betrays me, and I scoop up the ribbon, winding it back on to the roll and stuffing it into my backpack. 'Thanks, Clare,' I say.

'No worries,' Clare replies. 'See you later, Scarlett.'

Kian is already at the lough when I get there, like he has been just about every day lately. We never plan ahead, it just seems to work out that way. Today, Kian is standing at the water's edge, brus.h.i.+ng Midnight until his black coat s.h.i.+nes like silk. I fish the ribbon out of my backpack and unravel it, looping it through my fingers as I walk towards them.

'OK,' Kian says. 'Ribbon? Now I'm scared.'

'It's not for you, idiot,' I tell him.

'The wis.h.i.+ng tree?'

'As if!' I snort. 'No, it's just an idea I had, for Midnight. I meant to bring scissors, though...'

Kian chucks me the brush and walks over to the wis.h.i.+ng tree. He reaches up through the branches, almost disappearing beneath the foliage, and brings down an ancient, bulging rucksack. A blackened tin pan is tied to the strap, and a battered spoon sticks out from one of the pockets. He fishes inside, pulls out a pocket knife and hands it over.

I open the blade and slice the ribbon into manageable lengths, then watch him hide the knife away, lift the rucksack back into the tree.

'What else've you got hidden up there?' I ask him. 'A toothbrush? A sofa? A fifty-piece dinner service?'

'Stuff.' Kian shrugs, sitting down on a rock at the water's edge. 'A bedroll, supplies, some food and hay for Midnight.'

'OK.'

I take the brush and start working through Midnight's mane, smoothing out the tangles. When I was a kid, I dreamt of having my own pony it was what I wanted more than anything. I used to imagine plaiting its mane with ribbon now, at last, I can do it for real. The big black horse leans his face against my shoulder as I thread the thin red ribbon into his mane, weaving it in and out.

'Know what I like so much about you?' Kian asks, watching.

'My wit, my charm, my gorgeous looks?' I quip. 'My skill with a horse brush and a bit of ribbon?'

'Well, naturally' Kian grins. 'All of that. And the way you don't ask too many questions. You just take me as I am.'

'Weird, secretive boy who keeps all his worldly possessions in a tree? What's to ask questions about?'

'Seriously, though,' Kian says.

'Seriously. If you wanted me to know, you'd tell me, right?'

'Exactly. And I don't I can't. Not yet.'

Midnight sighs, a huge, shuddering breath. I weave a dozen red-ribbon plaits into his mane, by which time the horse has just about fallen asleep on my shoulder, leaning heavily against me.

'My turn now?' Kian asks.

'To fall asleep on my shoulder or have your hair braided?'

'Either. I'm not proud.'

I ruffle Midnight's mane and blow softly on to his velvet nose, and the big black horse shakes his head and snorts and looks at me from liquid, long-lashed eyes. I plant a kiss on the white star on his forehead.

'I'm crazy about your horse,' I say lightly to Kian.

'He's crazy about you,' Kian shrugs. 'I'm a big disappointment to him these days no ribbons, no apples.'

'Shut up!' I laugh, digging him in the ribs as we walk back up to the wis.h.i.+ng tree. 'I always wanted a horse, when I was a kid,' I tell him. 'A black one, like Midnight. I was going to convert the garage into a stable. I wished and wished for a pony, but I got a broken home instead. I gave up on wis.h.i.+ng.'

'Ah, but that was before you met me and Midnight,' Kian grins. 'We're living proof that wis.h.i.+ng didn't give up on you.'

'Yeah?' I reply. 'Everything and everyone else did, that's for sure.'

'Not me,' Kian says, his blue-black eyes looking right inside my soul, making me s.h.i.+ver.

'No, not you.'

We fling ourselves down on to the gra.s.s, stretching out in the sun.

'So, what's new?' Kian asks.

'Nothing much. The schools have broken up, and Holly has a friend coming over. I'm hiding out here, staying out of the way!'

'Don't blame you,' he grins. 'I guess things will get busier now kids off school, day trippers, tourists. This place may be quiet, but it's still in one or two of the tourist guidebooks.'

'Seriously?'

'Seriously. We'd better make the most of it.'

Suddenly, away in the distance, there's a squeal of laughter and a crunching of twigs. We jump to our feet. Through the trees, I glimpse two bright figures weaving along, laughing, carrying a picnic basket.

'No way' I breathe, furious. 'It's Holly and some kid from the school. I told her to stay away!'

'Too bad she didn't listen,' Kian says.

'I'll get rid of her!' I promise.

I run into the woods, and Holly sees me and waves, cras.h.i.+ng through the undergrowth. My anger flares when I see that Holly's 'friend' is Ros, the dark-haired, geeky girl from the school.

'Scarlett!' Holly exclaims, her face all smiles. 'I knew we'd find you! I was telling Ros, you spend all your time down here these days.'

'I told told you I wanted to be left alone!' I say through gritted teeth. you I wanted to be left alone!' I say through gritted teeth.

Holly laughs. 'I know,' she says. 'But you don't mind now we're here, do you? I asked Ros over specially, to surprise you!'

Surprise me? That's not the word that springs to mind. Ros has the grace to blush, but she can't get a word in edgeways.

'We've brought a picnic,' Holly blunders on. 'And we're just dying to meet your friend Kian...'

Before I can stop her, she steps out of the trees on to the gra.s.s beside the lough, scanning around her. 'Oh. You're on your own. I thought...'

Ros and I step into the clearing too. My mouth falls open and a p.r.i.c.kle runs down my spine. There is no sign of Kian, no sign of Midnight, even though they were here, right here, just a minute ago.

They may as well have vanished into thin air.

'I thought you said you were meeting him by the lough?' Holly sulks.

'Yup, I said that,' I admit through gritted teeth. 'I also asked you to stay away, didn't I?'

Holly rolls her eyes. 'Aw, you just wanted to keep Kian to yourself. But he stood you up, so it doesn't really matter, does it?'

'He did not!' I blaze. 'He was here, OK? And he'd still be here if you two losers hadn't barged in on things, so thanks a bunch!'

'Stressy!' Holly laughs, but Ros looks embarra.s.sed.

'I didn't realize,' she tells me, tugging at Holly's sleeve as though she can't wait to get out of here. 'Really. I'm sorry.'

'You should be,' I huff. 'We talked about this, Holly you promised you'd stay away from the lough!'

'Well, I didn't promise exactly...' Holly says with a wicked grin.

I remember what Clare said about taking a deep breath and counting to ten. It's a little late for that now, but I try it anyway.

By the time I reach ten, Ros and Holly are turning back towards the woods. 'I thought you'd be pleased,' Holly says over her shoulder. She looks a little hurt, and that makes me feel bad. I try to remember that she's only nine. I got things wrong when I was nine, sometimes. And when I was ten, eleven and twelve, come to think of it. I may be getting things wrong right now.

Kian's long gone, anyhow. I take another deep breath and decide on patch-up tactics. 'Wait up,' I call after them. 'I'm sorry I lost my temper. It's not the end of the world, is it? Why don't you stay, now that you're here?'

'Really?' Holly's face lights up, but Ros looks uncertain.

'Really,' I promise. 'It's OK.'

'See?' Holly grins at Ros. 'I told you it'd be fine!'

She starts unpacking the picnic basket. Ros s.h.i.+fts awkwardly from one foot to the other, biting her lip. If she didn't think I was deranged that day at the school, she's bound to now. She looks like she'd rather be anywhere than here. Well, that makes two of us.

'So,' I say as cheerily as I can manage. 'School's finished now?'

'That's right,' she replies. 'The last few weeks really flew past. Matty and I are moving up to secondary school after the holidays it'll be so big after Kilimoor.'

'Just a bit,' I agree. 'Kilimoor's tiny, not like any school I've ever known. It kind of freaked me out. You all knew each other so well, like a family or something and I was the outsider.'

Ros looks anxious. 'We didn't mean to make you feel like that,' she says. 'We wanted you to feel welcome, but well, it was like you didn't want to be there.'

'I didn't,' I admit. 'I might have been a bit p.r.i.c.kly.'

'Maybe a bit.' Ros grins.

'Maybe a lot!' Holly pipes up, and the three of us laugh and the awkwardness ebbs away. Holly stands a bottle of Clare's home-made lemonade in the lough, wedged between a couple of rocks, and we flop down on to the gra.s.s. There's a Tupperware box of leafy green salad with feta cheese and cherry tomatoes, along with granary bread, boiled eggs, apples and flapjacks. We fall on the feast like we haven't eaten for a week.

Three swans glide soundlessly down from the hillside, long necks extended, to crash-land awkwardly on the lough with much splas.h.i.+ng and flapping of big, white wings. They gather themselves together as if slightly embarra.s.sed, folding their unruly wings into cool origami shapes and curling their necks prettily.

'What was that story you were telling me, about the swans?' Holly frowns.

'A wicked witch put some children under a spell,' I remind her. 'Do you think those are real swans, or enchanted ones?'

'Enchanted, definitely,' Holly breathes.

'Honestly Holly, you'd believe anything!' I scoff.

'Will you be going to the senior school in Westport?' Ros asks me as we watch the swans glide out into the lough. 'I won't know anyone in our year except Matty. I know some of the older kids, but that's not the same, is it?'

'You'll be fine,' I tell her. 'Give it a week and you'll wonder what you were worried about you'll make tons of new mates.'

'So you'll be going?' Holly says.

'Holly, you know I won't. The minute I set foot in a school, I get myself knee deep in serious trouble. Home-schooling's safer n.o.body can expel me!'

'Don't listen, Ros,' Holly says staunchly. 'Scarlett's cool, honest. I want to be just like her, except I'm having a pierced nose instead.'

'You are not,' I argue. 'We've been through all this! Tell her, Ros it's a bad idea!'

'For sure,' Ros agrees. 'Imagine the ha.s.sle when you get a cold! Yuk!'

'I'm going to do it.' Holly grins. 'You'll see.'

'Yeah, right.'

I pick the sh.e.l.l off one of the hard-boiled eggs and flick it away into the gra.s.s. I'm sorry I dismissed Ros as a geeky country kid. She's much nicer, much funnier than I remember, and if she thinks I'm mad, bad and dangerous to know, she's hiding it well. I look at her s.h.i.+ny hair, her pale skin and goofy smile. She's the kind of girl I'd have blanked, a month ago. The kind of girl I avoided like the plague because she reminded me of who I used to be.

We could be friends, maybe. These days, I need all the friends I can get.