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Authors: Helen Douglas

BOOK: Chasing Stars
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‘Oh,’ I said, feeling foolish. Had I really dragged Ryan across twenty-five miles of stomach-churning sea to the Isles of Scilly just so we could turn around and make the same journey back home that afternoon?

‘Do you know of anywhere else on the island that might have a space?’ asked Ryan.

The woman pressed her lips together tightly and looked at us in turn. ‘I might be able to sort you out a room. But I warn you, it’s not really ready for letting. We only finished painting it yesterday. You’ll need to keep the windows open until dark or you’ll suffocate on the fumes.’

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ said Ryan. ‘We just need a room for a couple of nights.’

The woman gave us a look. ‘It is a double room.’

I looked at the floor.

‘Double is fine,’ said Ryan.

‘And the name is?’

Ryan and I looked at each other. He couldn’t risk using the name Westland.

‘Shall we book it under my name?’ I asked.

‘I’ll need both names.’

‘Right,’ said Ryan. He hesitated.

The woman cocked her eyebrows. ‘Will it be Mr and Mrs Smith?’

‘Yes,’ said Ryan. ‘Mr and Mrs Smith.’

We followed the woman as she led us to a room at the back of the guest house.

‘The air should be clearer by this evening,’ she said, as she unlocked the door and stood aside to let us enter.

The room was simply furnished with two wooden bedside tables, an armchair, and a large double bed made up with crisp, white bedding. I looked quickly away from the bed and focused instead on the doors that looked out on to a small enclosed patio with views of the sea beyond.

‘This is perfect,’ said Ryan.

‘The bed is made up, but I’ll need to go and get you some towels,’ the woman told us. She strode across the room and opened the patio doors. ‘I’ll leave the doors open to clear the air. The room is perfectly secure. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.’

We stood awkwardly in the centre of the room until she’d left.

‘So, what do you think?’ asked Ryan.

‘It’s great,’ I said, trying to ignore the big double bed that took up most of the room. My voice trembled. ‘Perfect.’

‘Hey,’ he said, closing the space between us. ‘What’s the matter?’

I shook my head. ‘Nothing.’

‘We’re safe here,’ he said, running his fingers through my hair. ‘The cleaner is back on the mainland dealing with Travis. She’ll be gone soon. There’s no need to be afraid.’

But it wasn’t the cleaner that I was scared of. It was every­thing else. Here we were. After months of wanting this, we were together. A room of our own. No adults conspiring to keep us apart. No friends to gossip and stare. No Fate to get in our way. Just Ryan and me.

And then we were kissing and all my fear floated away. I fell softly backwards on to the bed, Ryan beside me. My heart drummed against my ribs so hard that the bones ached. My limbs were tangled with his, my fingers in his hair. We were going to spend the whole night together. And then the whole of the next day. And then after that . . . for ever.

There was a knock at the door.

Ryan sighed. While he collected the towels, I jumped off the bed and walked through the doors on to the small patio, letting sunlight and warmth flood over me. The water was choppy; white foam sprayed and danced playfully above the waves. I breathed in deeply. The briny smell of the beach lingered in the air.

‘Where were we?’ he asked, as he pushed open the bathroom door and chucked the towels inside.

‘Let’s go and explore the island,’ I said. ‘Those paint fumes are still strong. I think we need to let the air clear.’

 

We hired bicycles from a shop overlooking the harbour beach. Dozens of boats were moored in the harbour, their masts clanging musically in the light breeze.

‘How come you never told me there were a bunch of subtropical islands a couple of hours away?’ Ryan said, as we set off along the seafront road.

‘It never came up,’ I said, wobbling as I tried to get the bike moving.

‘Eden, have you ever ridden a bicycle before?’

‘No.’

‘How can you get to sixteen without ever riding a bike?’

‘I don’t know. I just haven’t.’

‘The first few seconds are the hardest,’ he said, pulling alongside me. ‘Once you get going, it’s easy. Push down and start pedalling hard.’

I grimaced. ‘One day I’m going to discover something that I can do better than you.’

The bicycle gained momentum and I was off. The warm air blew my hair back from my face and I breathed in the scent of flowers and seaweed. We left the harbour behind and began climbing a steep hill, past a blur of tall, green hedgerows and fields of cows. My thighs burned with the effort.

‘You’re doing great,’ Ryan said, looking back over his shoulder at me.

‘Don’t patronise me,’ I yelled back at him.

It bothered me that I had no real skills. I wanted to be prepared for everything and anything. Ryan might be convinced that now that Travis was dead we were safe, but I wasn’t so sure. And if Lauren posed no danger to us, why had Ryan decided to run and hide until she’d left?

The narrow road that encircled the small island took us past farms and fields, a couple of duckponds and craggy beaches framed with brown granite. We were never very far from the sea and the gritty combination of salt and sand hung in the air, a constant reminder.

After a while we came across a sandy cove with a small slipway and a couple of sailing boats tied up above the high water line. Ryan pulled off to the side of the road. ‘Do you mind if we lie down and rest for a while?’ he asked, yawning. ‘I’m still suffering from time lag.’

I hopped off my bike and laid it carefully on the ground. ‘What’s time lag?’

Ryan rested his bike next to mine. ‘You know what jet lag feels like, right?’

I shook my head. ‘Sorry. I’ve never been further than Paris.’

‘You’re even more sheltered than I thought.’

‘It’s not like I don’t want to travel,’ I said.

Ryan held my hand in his and we walked down the slipway to the beach. It was a rare sunny day, the air hot.

‘I wasn’t judging you,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you haven’t done much travelling. We’ll get to see the world for the first time together.’

‘Anyway, I know what jet lag is. So tell me about time lag?’

‘The human body isn’t designed for time travel. It throws your body clock completely out of whack. For the first few days, you get these sudden bouts of sleepiness. It’s a bit like narcolepsy. The best cure is to have a short nap.’ He yawned again as if to prove his point. ‘I’ll probably only need twenty minutes.’

We strolled along the shoreline, shoes in our hands, feet just in the water. The helicopter from the mainland buzzed across the sky. A mother and her two young children were walking across the wet sand, collecting shells in a bucket. We waited till we’d passed them before looking for a patch of dry sand to sit on.

I laid out my hoodie and sat down. Offshore lay two other islands, rising from the ocean like turtles just breaking the surface.

Ryan squinted out to sea. ‘These islands don’t look that far apart. I wonder if it’s possible to rent a sailboat for the day. We could go and explore the other islands. Maybe dive on some shipwrecks; I bet there’re loads of wrecks around here.’

‘So you can sail and scuba-dive?’ I said with a dramatic sigh.

‘I grew up by a lake,’ said Ryan as though that explained everything.

I didn’t remind him that I’d grown up by the sea, but still didn’t know how to dive or sail a boat.

‘And when I come from, the sea levels have risen,’ said Ryan. ‘Lots of towns are underwater. My friends and I liked to scuba-dive in the drowned cities. It’s eerie, swimming along what were once roads, seeing fish swim in and out of the windows of buildings that were once apartment blocks and offices.’

He scrunched up his hoodie to make a pillow and lay back, an arm over his eyes to block out the sun, his muscles bunching and lengthening beneath his skin. I wondered what it must be like to be able to do so many things, to feel strong and capable.

‘I want to learn something new,’ I said. ‘I feel like I’m not good at anything.’

‘You’re good at Scrabble,’ he said sleepily. ‘And chess.’

‘Great. Next time I come up against one of your cleaners I’ll challenge them to a game of chess.’

He rolled on his side and opened his eyes again, narrowing them slightly against the bright light. ‘You’re good at running.’

‘That’s just the problem. I don’t want to run away from things. I want to be able to fight back.’

Ryan raised an eyebrow. ‘Like a ninja?’

‘Don’t make fun of me. It bothers me that if you hadn’t risked everything to travel back through time and rescue me I’d be dead. I should have been able to defend myself better. And now Lauren is here and once again I’m relying on you to protect me. I want to learn new things so I can take care of myself.’

Ryan smiled to himself. ‘You’re what – about a hundred and twenty pounds? Travis was about two hundred pounds of pure muscle. You could be a black belt in every martial art going and you still wouldn’t have had a chance against that sort of bulk. Running was the right thing to do. It’s what I would have done too.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. And you managed your encounter with Travis brilliantly. You outsmarted him. You understood when to play along with him and when to run. And you outran him! He was a trained killer, but you managed to drive away from him, outrun him and then you had the smarts to lead him to his death. You did ninety-nine per cent of the job – I just came in at the end to take the credit.’

‘Don’t patronise me, Ryan.’

He sighed. ‘I’m not patronising you. Having your wits about you and the intelligence to think on your feet is worth a hundred black belts.’

He rolled on to his back again. I watched his breaths grow slower and deeper, the small shadow his long lashes cast beneath his eyes, the faintest hint of stubble under his skin.

He opened one eye. ‘I can’t sleep if you keep staring at me.’

‘I wasn’t staring at you,’ I said. I bit my lip. ‘I was just thinking.’

‘Thinking what?’ He yawned loudly.

‘What are you going to tell everyone else about coming back to Cornwall? What will your cover story be?’

He closed his eye again. ‘I’m not going to tell them anything.’

‘But they’ll think it’s odd. A few days ago you told them you were moving back to New Hampshire with your family and now you’re back again.’

‘They can’t know I’m here. You’ll need to tell Miranda that I’ve left again. Tell her that our departure was postponed by a couple of days if you need to. And don’t tell Connor or anyone else that I’m back.’

‘They’ll find out in September when you enroll at college,’ I said, confused.

‘I’m not going to college, Eden. I can’t. I can’t appear as myself anywhere. I mustn’t leave a trail to the future.’

‘So what will you do?’

‘I’ll find a job. Something casual like flower-picking where they won’t ask to see identification to start with. I’ll get some fake ID, but I will still have to keep away from anyone who knew me as Ryan Westland. Once you’re at university in a town where no one has ever seen me before, I’ll be able to come out of hiding.’

‘You can’t hide away for two years!’

‘I can and I will. If I start appearing as myself, the Guardians will pick it up and send a cleaner straight back to get me. I have to become someone else, and I can’t do that until we move to a place where no one has seen me before.’

It had never occurred to me that Ryan wouldn’t just slot back into his old life. I’d pictured him hanging out with the old crowd from school, studying for his A Levels alongside me, going off to parties together. Not hiding away at the farmhouse and working on the land.

‘But you’re missing out on your education.’

‘I can read books,’ he said through a yawn. ‘In any case, I’m already eighteen. I’ve had a pretty good education.’

‘You’ll be living like an outlaw.’

He smiled sleepily. ‘I’d sooner spend a lifetime living as an outlaw with you, than a single day of freedom without you.’

 

We had a table for two by the window, with a clear view over the harbour. We’d finished eating and Ryan had gone to pay the bill. Through the window, the moon hung like an oversized pearl, white and luminous, in a pink and turquoise sky. The perfect backdrop to a romantic evening.

That was what scared me. How exactly did Ryan expect the perfect romantic evening to end? For that matter, how did I want it to end?

‘Ready?’ he asked.

‘I think I might need to walk off dinner before we go back to our room,’ I said.

‘OK.’ He held my hand and we strolled down towards the pier.

Despite the late hour, there were still boats returning from daytrips. A line of chalkboards tied to a railing advertised sightseeing trips to the other islands. One of the signs caught my eye.

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