Seaside Mystery (3 page)

“But he told me his name—” Maisie broke off. She was going to have to be a lot more careful about keeping Flame’s secret. “I um…mean, I’ve already decided to call him Flame,” she said hurriedly.

“Well, I think that suits him,” her mom said. “I bet Flame’s hungry. Kittens need to eat lots of small meals, you know. Why don’t you see what you can find for him to eat?”

Maisie cut up a small slice of ham and poured some milk for Flame to drink. It wasn’t much of a meal, but later she’d go to the store to get some cat food.

Flame chomped the ham and then lapped up the milk, purring loudly.

After lunch, Maisie took Flame upstairs. She laid an old sweater on her comforter and then lifted Flame onto it. He kneaded it into a soft nest with his front paws, and then curled up for a nap.

As Maisie stretched out on the bed beside the sleepy kitten, her face broke into a smile. She still couldn’t believe this was happening. A couple of hours ago, she had been feeling lonely and missing her old friends. Now she had made her first new friend. In her wildest dreams, she had never expected him to be a magic kitten!

Maisie had been having the most magical dream. She opened her eyes to find sunshine pouring through the bedroom curtains.

Something padded up the comforter with light steps. Flame sat on her chest and gave her a whiskery grin. “Good morning, Maisie. I slept very well,” he purred.

Her dream was true! A huge smile spread across Maisie’s face as she cuddled Flame and stroked his silky brown tabby fur.

“Hello, you two! You look nice and cozy!” James Simpson poked his head around Maisie’s bedroom door. “I’m going for an early morning walk along the beach. Do you want to come?”

“Can Flame come, too?” Maisie asked.

Her dad grinned. “Course he can. See you downstairs in two minutes?”

“You’re on!” Maisie lifted Flame aside and then threw back the covers. Leaping out of bed, she pulled on some jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers. “Come on!” she called to Flame, dashing down the stairs with Flame following her.

Her dad was waiting at the back door
with an old canvas bag looped over his shoulder.

“Is Mom sleeping in?” Maisie asked him.

He shook his head. “She’s already in the old candy store, stripping some woodwork. We’ll come back and make her breakfast, as a surprise.”

“Okay,” Maisie agreed.

Flame trotted after Maisie, as she and her dad went outside and down the steps to the beach. The tide was out, and the sea was a gleaming silver line in the distance.

They walked down to where the tide had washed up bits of seaweed, plastic bottles, shells, and other stuff. Flame sniffed around, crunching up bits of dead crab and enjoying the interesting smells.

“Yuck! I wouldn’t like your breakfast, Flame!” Maisie whispered, pulling a face.

Flame purred, chewing.

Her dad began sorting through a big pile of seaweed.

“What are you looking for?” Maisie asked him.

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“Bits of driftwood?” Maisie said.

“Got it in one!” her dad replied.

Maisie grinned at him. Her dad was amazing at carving birds and small animals out of small pieces of wood. She knew he planned to make some new statues from pieces of sun-bleached driftwood and sell them in the new gallery.

As Maisie drew closer to the rocks where she had found Flame the previous day, she saw a tall boy poking around in the rock pools. The boy glanced up and saw her. He smiled and waved.

Maisie climbed a steep bank of sand, which had blown against the rocks. Flame scrambled after her, but his short legs sank into the soft sand. Maisie picked him up and tucked him under one arm.

“Hi. You must be new around here.
I’m Joel Denning,” the boy said with a friendly smile. He had floppy brown hair and wore a red T-shirt, cut-off jeans, and battered sandals. He looked about twelve.

“Hi, I’m Maisie Simpson. I just moved here with my parents. That’s my dad back there. We moved into that house,” Maisie said, turning and pointing back up the beach.

“Oh, okay. I noticed that someone had moved into the old cottage. Hey, that’s a really cute kitten you’ve got there,” Joel said, noticing Flame peeking out from under Maisie’s arm. He reached out to stroke Flame.

Flame purred as Joel rubbed the top of his head.

“Yes. His name is Flame. I…haven’t had him long,” Maisie told Joel. “Do you live nearby?”

Joel nodded. “Just down the road from you.”

James Simpson strolled up to the rocks. He smiled at Joel. “Hello there. Found anything special?”

“Anemones, sea snails, a few crabs,” Joel replied. “I was hoping to find a sea cucumber.”

Maisie grinned. “Yeah, right! Good joke.”

“No, really,” Joel said seriously. “You can find amazing stuff. I keep a record of everything. See?” He produced a crumpled notebook from his pocket and held it up. “I write up my notes when I get home.” He flashed Maisie and her dad a grin. “My dad thinks I know more about animals and plants than I do about people!”

Mr. Simpson laughed and glanced at Maisie. “Maybe you’ll spend more time outdoors now that we live near the sea, instead of playing
Eagles and Hawks
for hours at a time.”

“Da-ad!” Maisie groaned, turning bright red. He could be so embarrassing sometimes.

“What’s
Eagles and Hawks
?” Joel asked, puzzled.

“It’s a PlayStation game,” Maisie said, amazed that Joel hadn’t heard of it.

“Oh, right. I’m not really into computers.” Joel seemed to lose interest but then his face brightened. “The best rock pools are at Smuggler’s Cove. I’m going there tomorrow. I can show you both if you like.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a lot of work to do at the house,” Mr. Simpson said. “Why don’t you go with Joel, Maisie?”

“I…um, don’t know…,” Maisie began. She wasn’t sure how much fun poking around in pools could be, but maybe it would be better than painting or unpacking, especially if Flame came, too. “All right, I’ll come,” she decided.

“Great!” Joel said, beaming. “I’ll come get you in the morning.”

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” Maisie’s mom called from the kitchen the following day, as Maisie dashed into the hall.

Joel was waiting at the open front door. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Simpson. I know this part of the coast like the back of my hand,” he shouted into the house. He wore hiking boots and had a sleeveless jacket with lots of zipped pockets over his shorts.

Without waiting for Maisie to come out of the house, he turned and began running down the road.

Maisie put her shoulder bag on the floor. “Can you jump inside, Flame? It
might be a long walk.”

Flame leaped into the bag with a swish of his tail, and Maisie shouldered the bag and hurried after Joel.

“Hey! Wait for us!” she called.

“Us?” Joel turned around with a puzzled look on his face and then noticed Flame’s head sticking out of her bag. He frowned. “Why did you bring that kitten? You’ll have to take it back.”

“I’m not leaving Flame behind. Where I go, he goes!” Maisie said firmly.

“Well, fine then,” Joel said grudgingly. “But make sure you take care of him. I don’t want him getting in the way when I’m rock-pooling.”

“He won’t!” Maisie said. “Flame’s a very unusual kitten. He’s ma—I mean, he understands every word I say.”

“Sure.”
Joel rolled his eyes before setting off again.

Maisie was starting to think this was a mistake. Joel had seemed friendly the day before, but today he was treating her as if she was a little kid.

She fell into step with him as they turned into a lane and took the cliff path. As they walked along, Joel pointed out tiny islands and told her the names of different rock formations.

Maisie was impressed. She had to admit that Joel knew a lot about this area. She could see that Flame was enjoying himself. He purred as he looked out of her bag at the sea and sniffed the salty air.

After about fifteen minutes, the path sloped downward until the cliff was more of a steep slope. Joel paused near some
large flat rocks and boulders, above a small cove.

Looking down, Maisie saw a semicircular beach, surrounded by dramatic rocks. “Wow. Look at that. What an amazing place,” she whispered to Flame.

Flame nodded.

“This is Smuggler’s Cove. Wreckers used to lure ships onto those rocks and then steal the cargo,” Joel said, pointing to where the surf was crashing onto some jagged black rocks that stretched out to sea. “There’s a cave a bit farther along, where they hid their stuff.”

“Really?” Maisie said, shuddering. The sunlit cove suddenly seemed sinister and unwelcoming.

Joel glanced at her pale face. “You don’t
need to be scared. That was a long time ago,” he scoffed.

“I’m not scared,” Maisie said defensively.

“Good. Because I don’t want to turn back now,” Joel said. “We can take a shortcut down by climbing over these rocks. There’s an easier way down, but it’s another ten-minute walk along the cliff path.”

Maisie leaned over a bit. Her tummy clenched as she looked down.

“I’ll go first,” Joel said, jumping onto the first rock, and then he glanced back at Maisie. “On second thought, it’s a bit steep if you’re not used to it, especially if you’re wearing sneakers and carrying that kitten. You’d better come down the easier way. Just follow the path. You can’t miss it—follow the signs to Smuggler’s Cove.”