Page 49 of A Cornish Love Story
The resin stand was slipping in my palm. I looked at Kira, and she gave me a thumbs up. Mum was gazing out of the window. Ethan was nowhere.
I ran my free hand down my dress, and the label prickled. ‘I have wanted to write stories for as long as I can remember,’ I said, willing my voice to stop shaking, ‘and I fell in love with the Cornish Sands series when I discovered that the writer, S. E. Artemis, used to live in the house on the cliffs.’ People’s eyes were back on me, the titters had died down, so I kept going. ‘Her last book left me disappointed, because I’m a sucker for a happy ending, so my story, “A Tail in the Bay”, was my attempt to rectify that for myself, to write a happy-ever-after for my characters, just like I thought Amelie and Connor in the last Cornish Sands book should have had – though mine, Gemma and Ewan,’ I cringed at how obvious my name choices were, ‘are my creations entirely.’
I glanced at Grace, and she gave me a soft smile. I said a silent apology for what I was about to do. ‘I wasn’t going to include the mermaid to begin with, and I know some people will frown at the fantastical element but, one, there are acornucopiaof books that have ghosts, mermaids and werewolves in them that do really well; two, the mermaid is a big part of Alperwick’s history; and three, all love stories need something that brings the two characters together to begin with, andI don’t think it matters if it’s bonkers or unlikely, so long as it makes sense to them. So in the end, I just thought fucksticks, and I did it.’ Kira’s whoop was so loud that everyone turned to look at her.
I could see that Grace was trying to work out if she’d heard me correctly, and I decided to wrap it up. ‘Thank you again for this amazing award.’ I held my copper quill high. ‘It really means so much to me.’ I waited a beat to soak up the applause, then I took myself and my itchy dress off the stage.
‘That was immense.’ Freddy flung an arm around my shoulder. ‘Cornucopiaandfucksticks. You’re my hero, Georgie.’
‘It was the best,’ Kira said, but her response was subdued.
‘Nice trophy.’ Orwell touched the spike of the quill. ‘Shame your oh-so-dedicated boyfriend didn’t bother to turn up.’
‘Shut up, Orwell.’ Kira gave me an apologetic look. ‘He texted me, because he wasn’t sure if you’d get to look at your phone.’ She held her screen towards me.
Something’s come up with Sarah and I can’t make it. Please tell Georgie I’m so, so sorry.
‘Right.’ I hadn’t checked my phone yet, but I knew I’d have something similarly apologetic.
‘His sister’s a nightmare,’ Orwell said.
‘She’s unhappy,’ I replied, even though I was crushedthat whatever Sarah had done this time had kept Ethan away tonight. ‘He’s doing the right thing looking out for her.’
‘You really believe that?’ Orwell smirked at me.
‘Shutup,Orwell,’ Kira said again, and before I could come up with an answer, I felt a hand on my shoulder and spun round to find Mum. I smiled, waiting for her hug, her congratulations.
‘I have to go and see a man about a cat,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you at home, OK? You were fab.’ She squeezed my shoulder and walked away.
‘Are you guys getting a cat?’ Freddy asked.
‘Pretty sure we’re not.’ I knew she was still buying weed, because sometimes when I got home from school I could smell it underneath her incense, a scent that no amount of patchouli could disguise. But what could I say? She’d been told what effect it would have on the trial, and it was her choice. Confronting her would only result in an argument, so I’d buried my head in the sand and hoped she would stop by herself.
‘Hey, do you want to go to the beach?’ I said.
Kira looked apologetic. ‘I have to get back tonight.’
‘Yeah, my brother’s home for a few days, so I should bounce,’ Freddy added.
‘I’ll come,’ Orwell said. But heading to the beach as the sun set, just me and Orwell, would be the rotten cherry on top of the stale cake as far as I was concerned.
‘Actually, I’m pretty tired. We should do it soon, though – all of us.’
‘For sure.’ Kira enveloped me in a hug and whispered, ‘You were gorgeous and brilliant up there, and I’m so proud of you.’
I thanked her and said goodbye to my friends, then stayed to have a chat with Mrs Elliot, who said all the things I had hoped Mum would say. Then I stepped outside, into the cool evening air, the sun a low, glowing ball, amber and peach flames settling over the water. I strode the five minutes to the beach, took off my uncomfortable shoes and walked across the sand until I reached the smooth, flat rock that locals called the Alperwick Seat. Nobody was on it right now, the beach close to being deserted, so I sat down, and felt calm for the first time that evening.
I was gutted Ethan hadn’t turned up, and that Mum had been so uninterested, but I had my copper quill. It was proof that something I’d written had been noticed, and I had my writing – my characters and my worlds – and nobody could take those from me. Today was a milestone, but it also felt like possibility – that one day my writing, my escape, might lead to more.
‘George.’
I jumped. I’d been daydreaming, unaware of anyone approaching, but I knew instantly who it was. I didn’t turn around, but waited for Ethan to sit beside me. His warmth was irresistible, even though I was still angry. I looked at him, and saw his tired, sad expression in the final rays of the sun. I inhaled, and got a strong whiff of vodka.
‘Are you drunk?’ I couldn’t hide my shock.
‘Not me.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Sarah just … I don’t know, she’s been drinking since lunchtime, maybe – secretly, at school. I was on my way out, and I found her at the top of the stairs. She almost fell down them, she was so drunk. I got her into her room and she threw the bottle at me.’
‘Oh shit,’ I whispered. ‘What happened?’
