The Trouble with Love (2 page)

THREE

Polly approached the rocky outcrop at the very tip of Heartside Bay. Clambering over the rocks, slipping and sliding in the rockpools dotted with little starfish and crabs, gave her the chance to think about something that wasn't Eve, and wasn't Ollie, and wasn't any of the other nameless fears and worries that she struggled with every day. She was forced to concentrate on simply putting one foot in front of the other. It worked like a kind of therapy. By the time she reached the very last rock, she felt calm again.

Standing here is almost as good as being in the middle of the sea
, Polly thought, and she breathed the damp salty air into her lungs.

How could Eve do something like that to Rhi? The two girls had been best mates ever since Rhi had moved to Heartside. Everyone at school knew what Eve could be like, but Polly thought Eve would at least be loyal to her own friends. It seemed that she was wrong. And Max! Polly had always liked Max, with his ready smile, his sharp brain and the way he had seemed to care about Rhi. It looked as if Polly didn't know him either.

Her mind returned restlessly to Ollie again. Her dreams of Ollie were like the waves she was looking at, retreating and then crashing again and again against the rocks. Even the shock of Eve and Max's betrayal couldn't keep him out of her mind for long.

She gazed across the causeway towards Kissing Island, Heartside's most famous natural feature. The causeway was already partly covered by the tide. You could only ever reach the island when the tides were right.

Local legend claimed that if you kissed your true love on the shores of Kissing Island at midnight on a full moon, you would be together for ever. Even though Polly had only lived in Heartside Bay since she was nine, she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't known the legend. But she had never actually been to the island.

She was saving it for the right boy, she thought, resting her eyes on the island's familiar bumps and crags. But who was the right boy? Ollie? Or someone else, someone she had yet to meet?

She closed her eyes and let her mind drift into her favourite daydream.

She and Ollie were standing hand in hand on the shore of Kissing Island, the sand cool between their toes. The light from the full moon striped the shoreline and made the sea glitter.

Polly sighed as she imagined Ollie turning to her, tipping her face towards his.

“I love you, Polly. I always have. I hope this feeling lasts for ever.”

In her imagination, she wrapped her arms around his broad back, sliding her hands along his muscular shoulders. A little sigh escaped from her lips as she pictured how his warmth and strength would feel beneath her fingers.

“I love you too, Ollie. I've dreamed of this moment for so long.”

His lips would be cool and soft, pressing hesitantly against hers at first, and then harder as passion overwhelmed them. She could feel his fingers twining through her hair, and the sweet taste of his mouth. . .

“How could you?!”

Polly tried to hold on to her dream, but it was sliding away from her. Now Lila was striding towards them, her cheeks streaked with tears and her eyes wide and desolate.

“I thought you were my friend!”

Polly squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She could never do what Eve had done to Rhi. Never. And so Ollie could never be hers.

Sobs rose in her throat as the picture in her mind changed again. Everyone in her life had surrounded her now. They were pointing and laughing, or shaking their heads at her treachery . . . her bare-faced lies. . .

Her father's face was the worst of all. She imagined the tone of his voice.

“I'm so disappointed in you, Polly. . . I thought you were a better person than this. . .”

She wrenched her eyes open. The chance of her father ever coming to Heartside Bay, even to say such terrible things to her, was so remote that it was laughable. He didn't care enough to visit from the US, or even to call her. His disappointment would be an improvement on his near-total absence.

She suddenly became aware that the sky had grown darker. The sun was low, striping the grey clouds with gold. How long had she been standing here? The wind felt colder than it had earlier in the afternoon, and the sea that surrounded her was getting rough. She looked with alarm at the water lapping against the rocks she was standing on. It was a lot higher than she had realized.

Fear clawed her throat as she gazed at the water creeping over the rocks that lay between her and the mainland. How could she have been so stupid not to realize the tide was coming in?

Even as she watched, the water level rose again. The waves seemed to reach for her, stretching out to dash themselves against her toes. Giving a gasp, Polly scrambled higher up the rock. Her panic returned, and she could barely breathe. She couldn't get back to the shore the way she had come – the water had covered too much of the rocks. She couldn't swim to shore either, because the sea was getting rougher by the minute. She could be dashed against the exact same rocks she was standing on, and drown.

“Help!” she screamed. “Someone, help me!”

Her voice vanished on the wind. The beach behind her was empty. The clouds were hanging ever lower in the blackening sky.

Polly sat down, swamped with horror at the danger she suddenly found herself in. There was no escape. She was going to be swept out to sea!

FOUR

The sun was almost touching the horizon now. Shivering with cold and fear, Polly clutched her knees and watched the rising water with a kind of horrible fascination. Would drowning be quick? She thought about jumping in and swimming for the shore, but the jagged rocks looked sharp and the currents strong. She was doomed either way.

A small boat with a blue sail appeared around the edge of the cliff on Polly's right. Hope surged through her. If she could get the sailor's attention, she would be saved!

You're such a cliché, Polly Nelson,
she told herself. She unfolded her numb legs and and got unsteadily to her feet.
The damsel in distress, too involved in a stupid daydream to notice the tide!
If she had half a brain, she would never have come out here on the outcrop at this time in the afternoon. She was hardly living up to the image she had of herself.

The boat was still some distance away. Polly could make out a single sailor at the helm.

“Over here!” She waved so hard at the little boat that she almost lost her balance. “Help!”

She had a horrible feeling the sailor hadn't seen her yet. He was sailing fast, and in another five minutes she would be out of view.
Maybe I should tear off my skirt and wave it in the air like a flag
, she thought wildly. It was so colourful, they would have to be blind to miss her. But the thought of being rescued in her underwear was worse than the idea of drowning.

Finally, the sailor suddenly lifted a hand and waved back. Slowly but surely, the boat began to tack in her direction, the sail furling and billowing in the changing wind. The relief almost made Polly lose her balance. She sat down before her wobbly legs tipped her into the sea.

The boat was close enough now for Polly to make out the name painted on its white hull:
Arctic Angel
. And she realized with a lurch that it was being steered by the hottest guy she'd ever seen. He was around her own age, tall with short dark hair and strong arms that seemed to effortlessly pull ropes and turn the wheel at the same time, and he was wearing a well-worn jumper in a washed-out cherry colour that brought out his light tan. Even from a distance, his white smile stood out like a flashlight in his brown skin.

“Having a bit of trouble?”

His voice was cultured, with long lazy vowels that suggested an expensive education.

“I. . .” Polly could hear her voice squeaking like a bat. He was even better looking close-up, and he was getting closer all the time. “I'm a mermaid, actually,” she managed. “I do this all the time. Sit on rocks and wait for the tide to wash me out to sea.”

Now isn't the time for sarcastic jokes
, she thought in anguish. She probably sounded like a total idiot. But it was too late. She'd said it now.

He brought the
Arctic Angel
round so that it was closer to Polly's rock. “Then I should probably leave you here,” he said thoughtfully. The boat bobbed under his feet, but he stood on its deck as steadily as if he had been on land. “Or I might fall in love with you and you'll drag me down to meet your father, King Neptune, and when we're halfway there I'll remember that I'm not a fish and drown.”

They had only exchanged a handful of words and already she was half in love. If this boy had been sailing
into
the sunset instead of away from it, she would have thought she had fallen into a Hollywood movie. She smoothed her skirt, remembering how awful it looked.
She had to get a grip.

“I'm guessing this isn't a tail time of year?” he added, gazing at her very human feet.

The rim of the sun was touching the sea behind him.
He doesn't think I'm mad,
Polly realized slowly.
Just, maybe, kind of funny. Now what?

Run with it
, she answered herself.
It feels good.

“We not allowed to change past sunset,” she improvised. “The water gets too dark to see where we're going.”

“You should mention waterproof head-torches to Neptune next time you see him,” the boy advised seriously.

The thought of mermaids swimming along with torches on their heads was brilliantly stupid. Polly stopped worrying about her skirt and burst out laughing.

“Let me help you ashore, fish girl,” he grinned.

Polly looked at the brown hand held out towards her. If she pinched herself, would he disappear? He was much too good to be true.

“Thank you, sailor boy,” she said.

She would step purposefully and steadily on to the boat, then maybe stumble very slightly over a coil of rope lying on the deck and tip into his arms. She would apologize and he would tell her not to worry about it. They would gaze into each other's eyes. . .

“Can't you reach me?” he checked with a frown, and stretched his hand a little further towards her.

Polly realized her arms were still hanging by her sides. Colour whooshed into her cheeks. She hesitantly put her hand in his, trying to ignore the way her heart thumped at the feel of his skin. He folded his fingers around hers and steadied her as she started to climb towards the boat. His grip was strong and safe.

Now is not the time for daydreaming
, Polly instructed herself, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
Now is the time for concentrating. You don't want to tip the whole. . .

“Ahhh!”

The last rock slid away from her foot and landed with a splash in the sea. Polly lost her balance completely. With her arms flailing, she lunged into the boat head first, tackling the boy around the knees and hitting the deck with a crunch. She watched, frozen with horror at what she had done, as he staggered backwards, caught his foot against a rope and started to fall towards the water.

“Oh . . . no!”

Polly scrambled to her feet and threw her arms around him, trying to pull him back. Her sudden movement made the boat rock worse than ever.

And then the whole world tipped sideways and she crashed into the dark and freezing water, bottom first, with her arms still wrapped around her rescuer's waist.

FIVE

Polly fought her way to the surface, coughing and spluttering. Falling into the sea hadn't featured in her little daydream, and with good reason. The water was
freezing
, and the waves buffeted her mercilessly from side to side.

She kicked hard, feeling clumsy in her heavy shoes, with her sodden fringe in her eyes and her heart racing like a frightened rabbit. Where was everything? The boat? The rocks? And what about the boy – she blushed miserably – the boy she'd pulled overboard?

I'll never live this down
, she thought in despair. If he didn't think she was an idiot before, now he would for sure.

A big wave knocked her sideways and she swallowed a mouthful of salt water. Her skirt was getting heavier, dragging her downwards, and when a rock loomed dangerously close to her head, she panicked and started to scream. This was all her worst nightmares coming true. Dashed against the rocks, knocked unconscious, drowned. . .

A dark head bobbed up beside her, and a hand grabbed her own.

“I've got you,” he said in her ear. His breath was warm against her cold cheek. “The boat's not far. Can you make it?”

Polly felt calmer as she glimpsed the white hull of the
Arctic Angel
floating just behind her rescuer. She kicked hard, grateful for the feeling of the boy's hand. The moment they reached the boat, he heaved himself out of the water before grasping her by both hands and pulling her aboard beside him.

They lay side by side, coughing. Polly wanted to die of shame, or cold, or maybe both. Her romantic daydream had turned into a horrible disaster!

He stopped coughing and rolled on to his side with his chin propped in his hand, seawater pooling on the deck around him.

“I'm Sam,” he said cheerfully, as if she hadn't tipped him into the sea and almost drowned them both.

“P . . . P . . . Polly,” Polly gasped, shivering.

“Pleased to meet you, P-P-Polly.”

“That was totally my fault,” she moaned. “You must hate me.”

“It was the rock's fault,” he pointed out.

Rock or no rock, Polly still felt utterly stupid. She should have been concentrating on where she was putting her feet, not imagining what it would feel like to have this boy's arms round her.

“We need to dry off before we freeze,” he said, getting to his feet.

He pulled his soaked jumper over his head and dropped it in a soggy heap on the deck. Polly felt herself going bright red at the sight of his bare brown chest, and quickly turned her head away.

The next thing she knew, he was in a dry sweatshirt and draping a warm blanket around her.

“Are you OK?” he said, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes. “I'm sorry I don't have any clothes aboard for you, but the blanket will help.”

She felt warmed by the concern in his bright hazel eyes, so close in colour to her own. “This is nothing to a British mermaid,” she quipped. The feel of his hands was making her tremble more than the cold or the shock. “Those Caribbean ones would be in trouble, though.”

He laughed. “I'll get the boat under control. We'll be ashore in a few minutes.”

He furled the flapping sails, and Polly felt the boat throb to life beneath her as he started the outboard motor to bring them into shore.

The moment the keel of the boat bumped up against the beach, Sam jumped into the water and lifted Polly down. It was wonderful to feel the hard sandy ridges beneath her feet again. Out in the sea, the rock where she had been perched was almost completely submerged.

“Come here,” he said.

To Polly's astonishment, Sam wrapped her in a hug. She froze, wondering what to do. He smelled salty and damp and delicious.

“Body warmth,” he said into her hair. “We're both frozen. Unless you want hypothermia, I suggest you hug me back.”

Polly was grateful for the near darkness, because her face was on fire. She'd never hugged a boy she didn't know before. He was right, of course – she had read about the importance of body warmth in dangerous situations. Even with her blanket, she was still shivering hopelessly. Obediently she wrapped her arms around him and tried not to noticed the hard muscles of his back beneath her fingers.

“That's better,” he said. He pulled back a little so he could look at her face. “So, P-P-Polly. Do you live in Heartside?”

It was wonderfully weird, introducing themselves while wrapped in a full-body hug, thought Polly. She felt a giggle welling up inside her. She could get used to conversations like this.

Sam was seventeen, and a pupil at the private Langham Academy a few miles further down the coast.

“I've been there since I was thirteen,” he explained into her hair. “I'm going to study political science at university if I get the grades.”

“You're into politics?” said Polly in wonder. This guy just got better and better.

“Green issues, mainly. I'm working on a big project at the moment, on the plight of seals. Have you ever seen a seal in Heartside?”

Polly shook her head.

“Exactly.” Sam sounded grim. “There used to be a colony of them a little further down the coast. Now they've gone. Shipping lanes, dredging, cruise ships – all these commercial marine operations are killing or displacing our natural coastal wildlife. It's a scandal happening all over Britain. I've been out photographing evidence for our local MP, who's bringing a bill before Parliament next week before we lose our seals for good. We're putting a pamphlet together to raise awareness, and organizing a protest too.”

He is incredible
, Polly thought, feeling dazed.
My perfect guy.

“It's not much.” He rubbed Polly's back, making her want to arch like a cat. “But I want to try and make things better.”

Was he pulling her closer, or was it her imagination? Polly wanted to stay like this for ever. But there was no getting away from the fact that her clothes weren't getting any drier in Sam's embrace.

“Do you think we should make a fire?” she said reluctantly against his chest.

She felt the chill of the evening air again as he slowly let her go. “Good idea. There's some driftwood over there.”

Keeping the blanket wrapped firmly round herself, Polly moved along the tideline in a dream, picking up dry pieces of wood for kindling. She'd done the same for the campfire in the secret cove only two hours earlier. It felt like a lifetime ago. All she wanted to do was snuggle back into Sam's arms. He was smart, funny, cared about things, and he was completely gorgeous. And she thought that maybe he liked her back, and felt the same connection that she did. It was too much to take in.

They built a fire close to the sweep of the rocks, shielded from prying eyes. Soon they had the driftwood spitting salty blue-green flames. The sun's final rays spilled across the sea like liquid gold, or a path to somewhere magical, far away over the horizon. Polly let the warmth wash over her. When Sam's arm came round her again, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“This will probably sound weird,” he said apologetically, “but I feel as if I've known you for ages.”

“It's my mermaid powers,” she said, snuggling closer. “We do it to all the guys we push off boats.”

Sam rested his head against her forehead, then took her hand and rubbed it gently with his thumb.

He's going to kiss me
, she thought ecstatically. This drumming in her heart had none of the uncertainty she had felt with Liam only a few hours earlier.

Her brain skimmed from Liam to Ollie. Dismayed, she shook her head to dislodge the thought. For once, why couldn't she turn off her brain and be in the moment?