Page 9 of A Secret Cornish Wish
‘I don’t care.’ Mandy hops down off the rock. ‘I’ve had enough. I need a break.’ She begins to rummage about in her bag.
Suzy, who’s been watching us rehearse, gets up from where she’s been sitting cross-legged on the sand and walks over to us.
‘I thought you were all really good,’ she says with encouragement. ‘The outfits I’ve made for you are going to look great.’
‘Yes, about the costumes,’ I begin, but I notice that Mandy, instead of pulling some sweets or a drink from her bag as I expected her to, has actually pulled out a packet of cigarettes, and, cool as a cucumber, she proceeds to light one up while Claire, Suzy and I just stare at her open-mouthed.
‘What?’ she asks nonchalantly. ‘Stop gawping at me like three goldfish gasping for air.’
‘Why are you smoking?’ I demand.
Mandy shrugs. ‘Just felt like trying it.’
‘But where did you get them?’ Claire asks, eyes wide. ‘You’re not old enough to buy cigarettes.’
‘The old fella in the corner shop sold them to me,’ Mandy says, pretending, I notice, to take a drag, but not actually inhaling. ‘He doesn’t care who he sells to as long as he gets his money.’
Eddie doesn’t say anything as he arrives next to us. He simply pulls the cigarette from Mandy’s fingers, throws it down on the beach and kicks some sand over it, so the cigarette rapidly extinguishes itself.
‘Hey!’ Mandy says. ‘I paid good money for that.’
‘I don’t care if you paid in blood,’ Eddie says, glaring at her. ‘Smoking will ruin your lungs and therefore your voice.’
‘You can’t just extinguish cigarettes on the beach.’ Suzy kneels down in the sand, attempting to uncover the cigarette with her hands. ‘Apart from being terribly bad manners, it’s terrible for the environment and it’s littering too!’
Mandy glares at Eddie and pulls the packet of cigarettes from her bag again.
‘Don’t!’ Eddie warns.
‘Or you’ll what?’ Mandy says defiantly. ‘I’m sick of you bossing us around, Eddie, and telling us we’re no good. I think I can speak for all of us mermaids when I say none of us wants to be here doing this on a Sunday evening. We’re doing it as a favour to you. You’d do well to remember that!’
Eddie continues to stare at Mandy for a moment, then very slowly he turns to each of us. ‘Is that true?’ he asks. ‘You don’t want to do the talent show with me?’ He waits for our reaction but when we don’t speak, he asks, ‘Frankie, is that how you feel?’
‘Er . . . you know performing isn’t my favourite thing in the world,’ I answer diplomatically. ‘But I know you love it.’
‘Yes,’ Claire joins in. ‘We wanted to support you, Eddie. You’re our friend.’
Eddie turns to Suzy. ‘Don’t look at me,’ she says. ‘I was honest, I told you I didn’t want to do it. That’s why I offered to make the costumes.’
Eddie’s chin drops to his chest, and I glare at Mandy.
‘What?’ she mouths silently, shrugging. But she has the good grace to push her packet of cigarettes back into her bag.
I’m about to step in and try to build bridges when I hear something.
‘What’s that?’ I ask, tilting my head to one side to hear it better.
‘Sounds like someone playing a guitar,’ Suzy says, looking around.
We all turn, trying to spot the invisible guitarist playing the Beach Boys song we are all far too familiar with by now.
‘There!’ Suzy points along the beach. We look in the direction she’s gesturing and see a lone guitarist appearing from behind some rocks. As they walk towards us, they are lit from behind by the setting sun, so we can only really make out their silhouette.
‘Isn’t that Robert Matthews?’ Claire squints into the evening sunshine.
‘Yes, I think it is,’ Suzy replies, holding her hand above her eyes. ‘I didn’t know he played the guitar.’
‘He can play my strings any day,’ Mandy says, watching the silhouette getting nearer.
