Too Close to Home Page 9

  Why had she done that? How could she take it back?

  “I don’t expect he’s even seen it yet,” Charlotte had reassured her on FaceTime earlier. “He might not be someone who goes on every day the way we do.”

  “He’s probably wondering who the heck I am,” Paige had groaned. “If he even knew my name in the first place—and I bet he didn’t—he’ll think I’m really weird for suddenly changing it to my mum’s maiden name.”

  “Well you could hardly ask him to connect to the page that’s under attack from the Durmites.”

  “At least they haven’t posted anything since that horrible thing they said about you.”

  Charlotte appeared to have forgotten it already. “Do you think we should be wearing one-pieces rather than bikinis under our wetsuits?” she asked.

  “I’m definitely wearing a bikini and a T-shirt. Should I tell him I’ve watched his video?”

  “If it comes up, but I wouldn’t cough to how many times or he’ll think you’re a stalker. Which reminds me, have you heard any more from that Julie person?”

  “Not really, and she’s not a stalker. I think she’s just lonely.”

  “But she still hasn’t told you who she is, and for all you know she might not even be a girl. It could be someone’s dad or brother getting off on pretending he’s a schoolgirl.”

  “Then how would he know all the stuff that’s going on with Owen and the Durmites?”

  “No idea. I’m just saying I still think it’s weird that she won’t tell you who she is.”

  Paige thought so too. Even so, she’d been online with Julie for over an hour last night, chatting about all sorts of stuff that only girls would chat about. Favorite bands, movies they rated, makeup they’d tried, how strict their parents were, what it was like being part of a big family—Julie always seemed to like hearing about her family. Not that Paige was dumb enough to tell her anything really personal; she was never going to do that until Julie fessed up to who she really was.

  She looked down as her phone bleeped with a text.

  You are such a fucking loser. Think we haven’t figured out your new FB name? What a pathetic mummy’s girl you are, you filthy swot!

  It was from Kelly, the fourth that morning. She wasn’t even bothering to hide the fact that she was the sender, which was why Paige was feeling quite certain now that Kelly and Julie were not the same person.

  Another text arrived.

  Have you had this one yet?

  Paige opened the attached picture. It turned out to be of a giant penis. Knowing how hilarious the Durmites would be finding this, she quickly closed down her phone. She wasn’t going to let them spoil her day, and besides, she could never get any reception at Llangennith anyway, so she wouldn’t need it.

  As the pale blue expanse of sea came into view she sat forward to rest her arms on the back of Charlotte’s seat. They’d already passed the King’s Head, so they were only minutes away.

  She wasn’t thinking about the Durmites. They meant nothing to her, and she definitely wasn’t going to tell Charlotte about the texts; if she did, they’d end up talking about them, and she just wanted to forget them.

  “I’d feel happier if there was a lifeguard on duty,” Charlotte’s mother commented with a sigh.

  “It’s not dangerous,” Charlotte assured her. “No one’s ever drowned here, have they? No surfers anyway.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Definitely. And we’ve been here a hundred times, Mum. It’s not like we don’t know it.”

  Since this was true, Lucy Griffiths said no more as she drove them into a caravan park and wound down through the site to a sprawling car park behind the dunes. There were plenty of other vehicles around, and people coming and going, some of whom Paige vaguely recognized, but most she didn’t.

  “Do you know if they’re here yet?” Paige whispered to Charlotte as she tried to spot Oliver’s black Ford Fiesta.

  “They must be,” Charlotte replied. “Cullum texted before we left to say they were already on their way.”

  Going to retrieve her surfboard from the back of Lucy’s wagon while struggling to hold her plait in place against the wind, Paige found her spirits lifting at the tangy taste of fresh salt air on her lips. The sound of the sea was a low, constant growl all around them, threaded with seagull cries and the odd blast of music coming from someone’s car. “Did he say if Owen was with them?” she asked, feeling a clench of nerves as she thought of it. If he was, it would be the first time she’d seen him since the horrible Facebook posting, as he hadn’t been at school at all after that.

  “No, but he said last night that he was pretty sure he’d be coming. It’s all right, you don’t have to worry. You know what Owen’s like—he’s too sweet to bear a grudge, especially for something he’s got to realize by now that you didn’t do.”

  Knowing she’d feel more confident about that if Owen had returned her texts and messages, Paige stood aside as Lucy fussed around Charlotte reminding her not to take any risks, or to get too cold, or to talk to strangers.

  “I’m not six,” Charlotte protested.

  Laughing, Lucy embraced her. “Just teasing. But don’t talk to strangers. Are you OK, Paige? Got everything?”

  “I’m good,” Paige assured her, feeling slightly envious of Charlotte’s only-child status. Not that she didn’t love her brothers and sister when they weren’t driving her mad, which was actually most of the time; it would just be nice to have her mum and dad to herself once in a while.

  A few minutes later, after waving Lucy off, they were starting along the path through the dunes, boards tucked tightly under their arms, heavy bags draped on their shoulders.

  “Have you noticed something? We seem to be the only ones heading in this direction. Everyone else seems to be leaving,” Paige remarked.

  “They probably started early,” Charlotte responded. “God, it’s bloody freezing, isn’t it? Let’s hurry up and get there. Just tell me, are you sure my bum doesn’t look big in this?”

  Obediently checking, Paige said, “Don’t be daft. You’re a supermodel, so how can it. Does mine?”

  “Yeah, huge,” Charlotte decided.

  Paige’s eyes rounded.

  “Like someone who’s size six has a big ass. Do me a favor.”

  Giggling, they tramped on through the sand, careful not to collide with other surfers who were heading away from the beach.

  “I reckon they know something we don’t,” Paige whispered.

  “There’s Cullum!” Charlotte cried, spotting him coming up over the mound. Matt and Ryan were with him, but there was no sign of Owen—or of Oliver and Liam.

  “Surf’s lousy,” Cullum told them as he approached. “Waste of time. We’re heading up to the café.”

  “Did you bring any money?” Charlotte asked Paige.

  Paige almost didn’t hear. She’d just caught sight of Oliver, and he looked so amazing, so totally drop-dead in his wetsuit with his dark hair blowing about in the wind and his teeth gleaming white as he laughed, that she thought she might faint. “Uh, I’ve got a fiver,” she mumbled, and quickly turned away before anyone realized where she was looking.

  He was here! He was actually coming toward her with a group of his mates, and any second now she was going to say hello. Oh my God. Oh my God. She was so elated and terrified she hardly knew what to do. Would he mention her friend request? Maybe he’d already accepted. What was she going to say if he had? She wanted to sound intelligent and witty and like someone he’d enjoy talking to, but she wasn’t sure she knew how to do that.

  “Come on, if you’re coming,” Cullum shouted.

  Paige spun round. Realizing Charlotte had turned back with the others, she hurried to catch up. Please God, don’t let Oliver think I’ve been waiting for him.

  “He’s here,” she whispered as she reached Charlotte.

  “No way!” Charlotte responded ironically.

  “Do you think he saw me?”
>
  “How do I know?” She cast a glance over her shoulder to check how far behind he and his mates were and almost choked with shock. “OMG! OMG!” she hissed. “Liam only just winked at me. I need oxygen. He is so totally amazing. Do you think he’s watching my ass?”

  “Ssh, they’ll hear,” Paige warned with a laugh.

  There was a burst of mirth from behind, and she immediately tensed. She hoped he wasn’t telling his mates that she’d sent him a friend request. If it turned out that was what they were laughing at, she was going to collapse and die. If only she hadn’t done it, she might not be feeling so stupid and self-conscious or thoroughly sick of herself right now.

  Though the café was crowded, Matt and Ryan managed to snag a couple of tables by the window as another group left, while Cullum headed straight to the hatch to order. “I’d treat you,” he told Paige and Charlotte, “but I’ve only—”

  “It’s OK,” Charlotte assured him, grabbing Paige’s fiver. “Cappuccino for you?”

  “With chocolate,” Paige replied.

  Since there was only one barista, they had a long wait for their drinks, but eventually they were all seated around the tables, with Oliver and his mates at one end and Paige and Charlotte at the other. It was a disaster, but since they could hardly ask Cullum and the others to swap places, they had no choice but to make the most of the fact that they were actually in the same caff as Oliver and Liam. Whether Oliver and Liam were feeling the same was doubtful, since they barely even glanced in their direction as they chatted and laughed with the rest of their mates. But then, during a rowdy group debate on who was going to score for Wales in the Six Nations match that afternoon, Oliver caught Paige’s eye and smiled. She nearly passed out, and had to thank God for reflexes, because it was the only way she managed to smile back.

  “Did you see that?” she murmured to Charlotte as soon as he’d turned away.

  “Are you kidding?” Charlotte whispered. “He’s definitely got the hots for you.”

  “Are you sure he wasn’t just being polite?”

  “If that’s what you want to tell yourself, but no way did it look like that to me.”

  “Oh my God. What do you think I should do?”

  “Ask him for a shag.”

  “Be serious.”

  “OK, then I don’t know.”

  “I can’t just go over there and talk to him.”

  “Maybe he’ll come over here. Cullum, you tosser! That’s my cup.”

  “Sorry,” he laughed, putting it down and picking up his own.

  “Hey, Charlotte!” someone called out.

  Realizing it was Liam, Charlotte’s eyes almost popped out. “OMG, he’s telling me to go over,” she muttered to Paige, already getting to her feet.

  Desperate for Oliver to invite her too, Paige could only watch and feel foolish and envious as Charlotte made her way to the end of the table, where Liam pulled up a chair for her to sit down.

  Minutes passed as Charlotte amazed and impressed Paige with the easy banter she seemed to fall into with Liam, while Oliver, appearing oblivious, talked to another of his mates. In the end, starting to feel like a total lemon, Paige leaned in toward Cullum and said, “So how come Owen isn’t here?”

  Cullum’s eyebrows rose incredulously. “Why do you think?” he countered.

  Realizing it was because of her, Paige felt herself flush. “I thought…I mean, you’ve told him it wasn’t me, haven’t you?”

  “Course I have, but he said he still wasn’t going to show today if you were here.”

  Paige couldn’t think what to say.

  “Actually, now we’re on the subject,” Cullum ran on, “we’re all going back to my house afterward to watch the Six Nations. I’ve told Owen we really want him there, so if you could kind of, you know, back off when we leave here…He’s had a tough week, and I think he needs to find out who his real friends are.”

  Paige’s heart was twisting; there was a buzzing in her ears that made it almost impossible to hear herself as she mumbled, “Yes, of course. I mean, don’t worry, I wouldn’t be able to make it anyway.” She wanted to leave now, to get as far away from here as it was possible to go, but Lucy wasn’t due back for another couple of hours, and with no phone reception she couldn’t call her mum.

  She tried to catch Charlotte’s eye, but Charlotte was too busy enjoying herself to notice. Cullum was talking to the others again, his back half turned as though deliberately shutting her out. She didn’t understand it. He hadn’t been like this when they’d sat together in English during the week, or when they’d rehearsed Under Milk Wood. Not that there had been a chance to discuss anything then; Miss Kendrick was too much in their faces to allow what she considered idle chitchat.

  Feeling too wretched to carry on sitting on the edge of things, she gathered up her bag and headed for the ladies’ room. Instead of going in, she turned toward the exit, and after collecting her board she started out of the campsite. It wasn’t that far to the King’s Head, probably about a mile along a narrow country road, and once there, with any luck, she’d be able to call her mother to come and fetch her.

  It didn’t happen that way, because even when she got there her mobile still wouldn’t work and the pub was closed, so she couldn’t get inside to use a landline. She didn’t know what to do. It was too far to walk all the way home, and she was so cold she doubted she’d make it anyway.

  With tears pricking her eyes she laid her board down and went to try the pub door, just in case.

  It was definitely locked.

  In desperation she walked round to the back of the building and climbed to the top of the car park, holding up her phone, willing it to catch a signal from somewhere, but there wasn’t even the glimmer of a single bar.

  She shouldn’t have left the café. It was a stupid, childish thing to have done, especially without telling Charlotte. By now Charlotte would be wondering where she was, wanting to know why she’d gone off without saying a word, and Cullum would probably tell her. What would happen then? Would everyone start looking for her? They’d probably just assume she was in a sulk and would show up again when she was ready.

  How childish they must already be thinking she was.

  Nevertheless, a part of her was desperate to go back, but she was going to feel a total idiot traipsing up to the café with her board, like she’d just taken it for a walk or something. Where would she say she’d been? Maybe I took off in a huff because Cullum clearly doesn’t believe my Facebook page was hacked? Or My feelings were hurt because everyone wants Owen to watch the match later, not me? She could always say she’d needed to make a phone call, so she’d gone to try to find a signal. She shook her head. Like she’d really take her board for that!

  It was the best she could come up with; even so, she still couldn’t bring herself to go back. Cullum obviously didn’t want her there, which no doubt meant Matt and Ryan didn’t either, and no way was she going to push herself in where she wasn’t wanted.

  Dropping her bag on a random picnic table, she stared helplessly at her phone again. She wondered if Oliver was worried about her, or if he’d even realized yet that she’d left. Over half an hour had gone by, so Charlotte would no doubt have checked the ladies’ room by now, which meant they had to be wondering what had happened to her.

  If they were, they certainly didn’t notice her as they drove past in Oliver’s Fiesta a few minutes later with their boards strapped to the roof. She didn’t catch a glimpse of Oliver, but Cullum was definitely in the passenger seat and Charlotte was in the back. Another car with more boards on top was close behind. She saw Ryan and Matt in that one, and was sure it was Liam at the wheel. If she hadn’t been tucked inside the car park, which meant they were almost past by the time she saw them, they might have seen her too. As it was, they were gone in seconds, and she suddenly felt so alone and so horribly abandoned that it was as though she had no place in the world to go.

  She tried telling herself that was nonsense, but
it was how she felt, and the fact that she couldn’t get hold of her mum and dad was making it worse. They’d had a horrible row last night. She had no idea what it was about; she’d just heard them shouting, so she’d put her earplugs in and turned up the music. She hated it when they rowed. Not that it happened often, but when it did it was like everything felt wrong and scary and like they totally needed to get over themselves. At least they’d seemed all right this morning, what little she’d seen of them, but her mum had said that they definitely weren’t going surfing after Josh’s football match, so there was no chance they might drive by at any minute.

  She had to get a grip and remind herself that she wasn’t a child, so she could figure this out. She was sure Mr. Dixon, one of the science teachers, lived in this village, but the trouble was, even if he did, she had no idea which house was his. She could always knock on someone’s door and ask. Or she could sit here and wait until the pub finally opened so she could go in and use their phone.

  Feeling close to tears again, and colder than she’d ever been in her life, she dropped her head against the drizzle and almost didn’t look up as a car came chugging steadily down the hill. Thank goodness she did, because the instant she saw it she leapt to her feet, waving madly.

  “Grandma! Grandma!” she shouted, running out of the car park.

  The little yellow Fiat kept going, past the village hall, around the bend, and out of sight.

  Paige ran faster. She had no idea why her grandma was here—maybe Charlotte had rung as soon as she’d got reception and now everyone was searching for her.

  As she reached the bend she fully expected her grandma to be long gone, tootling obliviously along the road toward the beach, but to her relief the Fiat was pulling up outside St. Cenydd’s Church.

  “Grandma!” she shouted as Kay got out of the car.

  Kay looked around in bewilderment.

  “Grandma! It’s me.” Paige was almost there now.

  “Goodness, Paige, what are you doing here?” Kay demanded. “I thought you were surfing.”

  “I was. It’s a long story. Oh, Grandma, I’m so glad to see you,” and she promptly burst into tears.