Summer Journal

THE CARAVAN—TATE'S HOLIDAY PARK

AUGUST 20, 2010

Today was a good day.

Had a text from Frankie this morning. Sry Sparrow. Didnt mean 2 b a bitch. Feeling rly bad about it all. Come hang?

But I feel so weird about all that stuff she did. All that effort she went to. Dead birds and blood. It's so messed up. And it was so hot and the sea was glittering away while I ate my cereal in the deckchair by the caravan. It was like: freedom! I could do exactly what I wanted. So I grabbed my bikini, my book, started walking to the beach. Halfway along the cliff path, I bumped into Jake. He went: you never replied to my text. But smiling. And I was like: er, you never replied! Then he pulled out his phone and showed me. Did so. See? It was from a week ago.

Free tmrw. Beach @10?

I call my phone a piece of shit cos the battery's always dying. But it's never had a problem with texts, far as I know. Frankie took my phone off me that day, when I was texting. Before I'd have said: no way would she do that. Now I don't know.

He shrugged and said: no big deal. We could go now?

I said yes.

Went with him along the path until he swerved off to one side like he was about to jump off the cliff. He laughed at my face. Best beach round here. There's a path. You just can't see it from there.

I followed him down. To not look at the drop I stared at the patch of sweat on his T-shirt between his shoulder blades, silver chain brushing the hairs at the back of his neck. Tripped and had to grab a bramble and made a stupid squeal. He turned round and took my hand and put my thumb in his mouth and sucked the prickles out for me, his hair brushing my wrist. The hottest thing that's ever happened to me. Till we mucked about in the sea. Didn't care about my flat chest or my orange Holiday Skin streaky knees cos of how he looked at me in my bikini. He kept grabbing me and pretending to dunk me and our legs tangled under the water and his skin over his shoulders was like silk and he pulled me up against him and I could feel...

Then I looked up and could just see The Manor, looming above the cliffs a little way down the coast. All the windows glinting. I had this idea she could look down and see us. Asked if we could go back to the sand.

Maybe he saw me looking as when we were on the beach again he asked, so what's it like, the big house? They never mix with us peasants. We lay there with our toes in the shallows to stay cool but letting the sun burn the water off the rest of us and I told him about it. Told him about the woods. What Frankie did. And he was like, what? That's so fucked up. It felt kind of good to have someone else say it.

But I thought I saw one of them, I said. One of the Birds. When we were picking shrooms.

He went—you were picking shrooms?

Yeah. A few days ago.

He sat up then and went: yeah, no way those were magic mushrooms.

I said they were just like the photo I saw.

Nope. They only grow in the autumn. You gotta trust a farm boy. What you found... that's something else.

I asked him what.

He said: dunno but you should be careful. Mushrooms can fuck you up.

I thought about Frankie stuffing them in her bedside drawer and had this horrible thought that she might try them. And even though things are weird with us right now I texted her straight away: Bin the shrooms!!! DO NOT TAKE. Cld be super dodgy.

She's wrong about the Birds though, he said then. They're real. They just act on the big stuff. You don't get big crimes happening round here that often. Last time was maybe five years ago? Local guy sneaking up on girls at night, flashing them. People knew who it was but the police never caught him doing it. Don't know what the Birds did to him but they fucked him up proper cos he left town one morning, never came back. His house is still empty. But your mate wouldn't know any of that... she's not a proper local. There's things you can't understand if you're not from round here. It's not some fairy tale. You don't want to get on the wrong side of them.

AUGUST 21, 2010

Even hotter today. In all senses of the word. Oh my God, that sounds so naff. But it was.

Down on the secret beach again Jake said: hey. Want to see something cool? He led me back toward the cliffs but halfway across the beach he stopped, squinting up at them. I asked him what it was and he was like, dunno, thought I saw someone up there. We watched for a bit. Nothing. He was like, nope, must have imagined it.

The thing he wanted to show me was this cave. More of a tunnel, actually, going deep into the cliffs. It was properly cold in there after the heat of the sun and there was water running down the walls and it smelt of eggs and was a bit creepy but in a fun way, with him there too. He was like, look: at the back it goes even further. You up for it?

Promise you haven't brought me here to murder me? I said, just to be funny.

He laughed. I like you way too much for that. Felt properly nervous then, but in the best way. He lifted me up so I could see into the tunnel at the end and I could feel his breath warm against the back of my neck. Who thought you could get that turned on in a cold smelly cave? And then he let me down but he didn't move away when I turned toward him so for a moment we just stood there pressed against each other, noses brushing.

I don't know who kissed who. But I was the one who slipped my tongue in. He did this low groan then and I could feel, you know, pressing against me. And his hands were in my bikini top and for a moment I froze cos all I could think about was Hugo and the stuff he said about my flat chest. Then he said: you're so fucking beautiful.

All I could think then was: I'm going to lose it in a cave and I don't care. Then he broke off.

Did you hear that? Footsteps.

He was kind of laughing, kind of annoyed. Would be just like Nathan Tate. Or worse, the twins—would they know this place exists? Or maybe Shrimp. Know he comes down here sometimes.

He pulled away, ran to the cave entrance. Where are you, dickhead?

I heard the footsteps then. Somewhere up above us, on the roof of the cave.

He came back. Think they've legged it. Perv. Doubt they could see much. And it's not like we had our kit off. Yet.

But it sort of killed the vibe.

Then he went: hey, this is kind of cheesy. But you want to come and get fish and chips tomorrow night and drive to Seafarer's Point with me on my moped? Going to be a supermoon. We'd have the best view.

I laughed. Are you asking me on a date?

And he went: yeah, I think I am.

Got back to the caravan late, feeling sunburned and salty, this stupid smile on my face. Then I stopped short cos Frankie was right there, sitting in the deckchairs with my parents, holding a bottle of Coke. Mum and Dad laughing at something she was saying.

I almost turned and walked away but she called over to me, hey, Alison! Can't think of the last time she used my actual name.

Mum was grinning at me. Can't believe we've never actually met Frankie! She says we must come round for a drink, meet her grandparents. She was doing this funny voice, posher than normal, pronouncing all her words really carefully.

Frankie got up and came over to me. She whispered: I want to make it right, Sparrow, please. I'm sorry. We had fun, right? The stuff in the woods... it was meant to be a laugh, you know? But I see now it was fucked up. I went too far. I do that sometimes. But I miss you. Look, the olds are going to some geriatric dinner party slash orgy down the coast tomorrow night. Got the place to ourselves. She put out a hand and touched my arm.

Then a bit louder she said: how about it? Barbecue tomorrow evening?

How fabulous! Mum called. I have literally never heard her say fabulous. I'm sure Alison would love to go! You could bring some sausages, sweetheart.

I didn't say anything. I was thinking about Jake and fish and chips and the supermoon.

And then Frankie looked straight at me and grinned. Oh, she said. More the merrier... bring your boyfriend if you like. Your secret one.