Authors: Liz Kessler
North of Nowhere (7 page)
Wednesday, February 20, 6:45 a.m.
Dear Mia,
Oh, golly, how awful. I was so sad to read about your grandfather disappearing. That’s terrible. Has he come back yet? I agree with your father. You should definitely call the police if he isn’t back today.
Spring break in Luffsands is about helping Mother with her chores. She’s a dressmaker and is always busy. I’m not very good at sewing, so she gives me the easy parts, where there are no complicated stitches required!
I like bird-watching, too. I’ve been watching the cormorants on the rocks just off the eastern tip of the island. There are hundreds of them at the moment. I think there must be some very interesting fish visiting us, to create so much interest!
Also, there’s a fox who has been coming into our garden. He comes closer and closer each day to pick at the crumbs I’ve been putting out for him. My ambition is to feed him from my hand by the end of the week. We’ll see!
I bet I sound really boring!
What else have you been doing this week? I hope your grandfather is home.
Oh, I nearly forgot! I think we’ll be coming to Porthaven on Friday! You know the annual fair? After Christmas, it’s the high point of the winter. Will you still be there? Maybe we could meet? That would be fun.
Maybe see you on Friday, then.
Dee
Wednesday, February 20, 2:30 p.m.
Dear Dee,
Hooray! Finally, some good news! I’m going to meet you! I can’t wait! We’ll definitely still be here. We’re planning to stay at least till Sunday, but if we still haven’t heard anything and Grandad still isn’t back, we might even stay longer. Mom’s thinking about contacting my school to ask if I can get special leave to miss the first few days back, just in case.
I hope that doesn’t happen, though. I mean, it’s not that I’m crazy about school or anything. Normally, I’d jump for joy at the thought of no school for a few days — but not if it means that my grandad still isn’t here.
The atmosphere is getting really bad. Gran normally doesn’t show her feelings, but even she is finding it hard now. This morning I walked into the kitchen to see her in my mom’s arms. Gran’s shoulders were shaking. She didn’t say anything, but Mom looked up and saw me and just kind of shook her head, so I left them alone. I don’t think Gran would want anyone to know she’d been crying.
She called the police today. That’s probably what set her off. When she did that, I think we all finally admitted that there was a problem. Up to now, we’ve been able to convince ourselves that he just needed a bit of a break, or that he’s playing some silly game because they had an argument. But now that the police are involved, I suppose we all have to face up to the fact that it’s really true. My grandad has gone missing — and he may never come back.
The police have put out calls and they’ve told us to leave it with them for now — which means we all feel even more useless than we felt before. All we can do is wait. It’s horrible.
Sorry. What a miserable message. I hope you’re having a better day — and my fingers and toes are all crossed for meeting up on Friday. That’s the only thing I’ve got to look forward to.
Love,
Mia xx
Thursday, February 21, 6:50 a.m.
Oh, Mia, I’m so sorry to hear all this bad news. It makes me want to meet up even more, as I think it sounds like you need a friend there more than anything.
I’m not going to write much, as Father is about to leave and I don’t want to miss getting this message to you. I want you to know I’m thinking about you, and I really, really, really, really, really hope your grandfather is home by the time you read this.
We’re definitely coming to the fair — as long as the weather is good enough for us to get there. There’s a storm predicted for tomorrow, so I’m hoping the weathermen are wrong. They usually are, aren’t they?
I’ll come with Father in the morning. Shall we meet at the harbor and then we could go together? Let’s meet by the arches at, say, ten o’clock?
Oh, what do you look like? I’m about average height for my age — which is thirteen, by the way. How old are you? I have shoulder-length auburn hair, with a cowlick at the front (I’ve tried a million ways to stop it from sticking out, but no luck!), and green eyes, and I’ll be wearing a brown suede jacket and probably a skirt with rain boots. It’s not the most stylish look in the world, but it’s practical.
Till tomorrow — I hope! I’m getting excited.
Your friend,
Dee
Thursday, February 21, 1:39 p.m.
I’m excited too!
OK, so, I’m thirteen, medium sort of height, very skinny. I’ve got blond hair, a bit longer than yours. Wait . . . OK, I just measured. If I stand straight, with my arms by my sides, my hair comes to about halfway between my shoulders and my elbows.
I’ll be at the arches at ten a.m. I’ll be wearing black jeans and a tan wool coat on top of lots of layers. It’s really cold today!
Fingers crossed for the weather. It’s calm today, so let’s hope it stays like this.
See you in just over twenty hours!
Your friend,
Mia
Friday morning, I glanced at my watch for the fiftieth time. It was nearly ten o’clock. Gran hadn’t even gotten out of bed, so Mom and I had been doing the breakfasts.
Everyone had eaten but there was still all the cleaning up to do. I didn’t want to leave Mom to do it all on her own, and I had no idea when Gran was going to get up. Mom said we shouldn’t disturb her. She hadn’t been sleeping well since Grandad disappeared, so if she was actually managing to get some sleep now, the least we could do was let her rest.
I’d already walked Flake so I’d be free to meet up with Dee, but I was still running late.
“I just don’t know what we’re going to do about all this,” Mom said. “I mean, we haven’t heard anything useful from the police, and he’s been gone a week now. I’m so worried.”
“I know, Mom. I am too,” I said. What else could I say? The police didn’t know anything. Gran was hardly speaking to anyone. She walked around the place like a ghost. Mom was pretty much running the pub and she and I were cleaning the rooms.
For the first time in my life, I felt myself starting to get angry with Grandad. How could he do this? Didn’t he care about any of us?
I refused — absolutely point-blank
refused
— to consider that anything terrible might have happened to him. That simply wasn’t an option. So the only option left was to get angry with him.
I had to get out of there.
“Mom, could I . . . um, could I go out for a bit?” I asked hesitantly, once I’d finished stacking the dishwasher.
Mom turned to look at me. “Out?” she asked with such shock in her voice that for a second I actually wondered if I’d accidentally asked if I could fly to the moon on the back of a unicorn.
“Yes, it’s just . . . I’m meeting a friend.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” Mom smiled at me. Her eyes looked so tired.
“Mom, he’ll come back,” I said. I didn’t know if I believed it, but I wanted to offer her some hope and I didn’t have anything else.
“I’m sure he will, hon. You go out.”
I kissed her on the cheek. “I won’t be gone long. Thank you.”
Then I grabbed my coat and ran as fast as I could down to the harbor.
Dee wasn’t there.
In fact, no one was there at all. The beach was empty. Most of the fishing boats were out, so the harbor was practically empty, too. And the fair that was supposed to be going on all day — well, I could see a few people putting up a booth at the far side of the harbor, but it certainly didn’t look like something that could qualify as the high point of the season.
I stood at the arches, waiting. She was probably just late.
But it was quarter past ten.
I
was the one who was late. Maybe she’d been here, but she’d gone off to look for me. Or maybe she’d just given up on me, decided I wasn’t coming.
But then she’d have to be here
somewhere,
wouldn’t she?
Maybe she and her dad hadn’t come across to Porthaven at all.
I looked through the arches, but couldn’t see to the other side. It was quite choppy, and mid-tide, and the water in the arches came halfway up my shins.
Good thing I’d followed Dee’s lead and decided to wear my rain boots.
I rolled my jeans up and waded through the archway.
The boat was there! So Dee
was
here! But where?
Maybe she’d left me a note.
I approached the boat. It was bouncing around on the lapping waves. I gripped the side rails and hurled myself sideways into the boat.
I landed with a thump on the deck and looked around to make sure no one had seen my not-very-elegant maneuver.
Holding on to the rails, I stepped carefully along the deck to the back of the boat. Maybe she’d left a message for me, suggesting we meet somewhere else.
I opened the locker and pulled out her diary. There
was
a note from her.
Dear Mia,
I am SO disappointed. Father wouldn’t bring me. He said that it’s too rough to take me. I didn’t think it was so bad, and we had an argument.
I never argue with my father, so you can imagine how upset I am. Not just because of that, but also because I wanted to meet up with you SO much. You are the nearest I’ve come to having a friend on truly the same wavelength, and now I’m not even going to meet you.
I am so upset. I cried after I argued with Father. He didn’t see. He was too busy preparing the boat. Mother didn’t want him to go out at all, but he said he has to go today. These big swells are the best for catching all sorts of rare varieties of fish that are normally beyond his reach. It’s days like this that could make us rich, he said.
He kissed the anchor pendant he always wears around his neck and said he’d be fine. Mom gave him the pendant when they were courting, and he never goes fishing without it.
Then he assured us both that he would be careful, and all would be well. Which of course made me ask again why I couldn’t go with him. But he wouldn’t relent.
He said if it had been likely to improve later, he might have said yes, but it’s due to worsen and he wasn’t going to put me at risk.
Which of course made Mother insist that he not go out, either. So then
they
argued, too. What a terrible, awful day. Father is about to go off on angry seas, in an angry mood, Mother is upstairs crying, and I’m missing out on something I’ve looked forward to so much. Not just the fair, but my chance to meet someone who I feel sure could be a wonderful friend.
I’ll slip the diary onto the boat as usual, and I hope you get it. I won’t receive your reply till Father comes home this afternoon. I can’t tell you how upset I am. I hope you aren’t angry with me. That would just make a terrible situation even worse.
Your friend,
Dee
I scanned her note twice, just to make sure I’d read it correctly. She wasn’t coming. I didn’t have
anything
to look forward to. The one nice thing about this week — the one possible thing that wasn’t clouded in misery and sadness — wasn’t happening.
I was too miserable to reply right away. I didn’t want to share how upset I was; it would only make Dee feel worse. I decided I’d come back and reply later when I didn’t feel quite so disappointed. The last thing she needed was a miserable note from me.
I left the diary on the boat and waded back under the archway. The tide was even higher now, and a wave hit me just as I was in the middle of the arch. The water went right over the top of my boots and soaked my feet and jeans.