Forget Me Not (The Ceruleans: Book 2) (11 page)

I woke the next morning to a soft kiss on the lips.

‘Good morning, sleepyhead.’

When I opened my eyes the bright light flooding the room
physically hurt. Still, I smiled.

‘Morning,’ I mumbled.

Luke was lying beside me, propped up on one elbow. ‘You’re
beautiful asleep,’ he said. ‘Well, and awake. But really quite lovely snoozing.
Especially when you talk.’

That woke me up. ‘Huh? What did I say?’

‘That last night was the most amazing night of your life and
I’m a real stud muffin.’

‘A
what
?’

He laughed. ‘Joke! You were muttering something about a
yearning tiger.’

‘Burning tyger,’ I corrected automatically.
‘Tyger,
tyger, burning bright.’

‘That’s it.’

The memory of the wild cat in the street made me shudder.

‘You cold? Come here.’ Luke pulled me onto his chest and
wrapped his arms around me.

I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent, a heady mix of
deodorant and baking and something indescribable that was just Luke.

‘It was, you know,’ I said.

‘Was what?’

‘The most amazing night. Last night.’

‘It was.’

I leaned on one elbow and kissed him and –

A loud laugh from downstairs made me pause.

‘What time is it?’

‘Getting-up time,’ said Luke. ‘You slept and slept. We said
ten for heading to the beach, and it’s half-nine now.’

I sat up. ‘I’d better get in the shower.’

He pulled me down. ‘Not much point showering when you’re
about to go in the sea, is there?’

I struggled back up. ‘Well, I’d better get dressed then.’

He pulled me back down. ‘You really had.’

I laughed. ‘Hey! There’ll be time enough for lying about
later.’

‘I have no intention of lying about…’

But after stealing another kiss, he let me go. I got up and
hastily pulled on clothes. The girl looking at me in the wall mirror was
bright-eyed and pink-cheeked and swollen-lipped and older, somehow. She looked
content. I liked that girl, I decided.

‘Luke?’ I said as I began brushing my hair.

‘Yep?’

I caught his eye in the mirror. ‘The playlist you had on
last night. Between your favourites, there were a few new ones.’

He squirmed visibly.

‘I’m sure I recognised them, Luke. From a DVD Cara made me
watch the other week.’

‘All right, all right.’ He held up his hands in surrender.
‘I admit it.’

‘You downloaded the
Never Fall in Love with a Vampire
soundtrack.’

‘Guilty as charged.’

‘But Cara said she dragged you kicking and screaming to the
cinema to see that?’

‘She did. And I can’t say I loved it. Really depressing –
all that morose “I love you but I can’t be with you” stuff. And when the
heroine died... I have no idea why Cara finds that romantic.’

I pulled my hair back unnecessarily hard into a ponytail and
told myself sternly,
Don’t think about it. Not now.

‘But some of the music kind of spoke to me.’

‘Bruno Mars? I thought you were more of an indie guy.’

‘Hey, don’t knock Bruno. “Just the Way You Are” is pretty
good. When applied to you, that is.’

I turned and looked at him. ‘Just when I think I’ve got to
know you, you surprise me, Luke Cavendish.’

His face broke into a broad, lazy grin. ‘I like to keep a
lady on her toes.’

*

The surf that morning was on fire, to the point that I was
coming round to the idea that my relationship with surfing could have been more
than just a summer fling; this wasn’t just a water sport to master, it was a
way of life – and it fit me. The only problem was having the energy and
strength to stay up on the board. After another healing session with Cara that
morning, I managed only an hour in the sea before I had to call time.

I joined Cara again on the picnic blanket, which today was
placed slap-bang in the middle of the beach. She was on fine form – humming
along to some cheesy mix tape playing on the ancient stereo, full of hope
because the difference in her legs was now irrefutable. Again, I’d done my best
to control the healing, but holding back, I was finding, was incredibly
difficult, and I’d gone a little further today. If the healing continued on
this course, after a few more sessions no scars would remain.

I was beginning to realise that this ‘magic cream’ plan was
riddled with holes. First, the cream was apparently mind-bogglingly powerful
enough to have healed extensive scars in a matter of days. Oh, and not just
scars – gouges were filling out; the pain was less, she reported; and, watching
her walk, I was sure she was more fluid in her movements. Then there was the
fact that she was growing more suspicious by the hour:

‘Where did you get that cream again? Who makes it? What’s it
called? Why isn’t it on the market? How come there’s so little of it? Can you
get more? Where from? When?’

There had been a particularly hairy moment this morning when
her eyes flew open mid-session and snapped straight to my hands, and I had to
stop abruptly and casually ask what was up. ‘Nothing,’ she replied. But she
stared at my hands long enough to make my throat tighten before closing her
eyes again.

Clearly, I was at risk of being found out, and soon. The
best way forward, as far as I could see, was to finish up the contents of the
small tub while we were in Newquay, leaving her partially healed, and then
‘struggle’ to get hold of more until right before… until I was out of time.
Then I’d finish the job, and any questions she may have would follow me to the
grave. As strategies went, it was messy – but the bottom line was that I was
determined to heal her, even if it was impossible to find a watertight
explanation for the
how
.

‘Penny for them…’

Cara’s quiet question snatched me from my thoughts. ‘Oh, um,
just thinking about… what to wear out tonight.’

‘Don’t you worry about that,’ she declared with glee. ‘I
came prepared. Plenty of Custom Cara designs to choose from. Oh, and last time
I was at yours I swiped those red strappy sandals. Knew you’d never bring
them.’

‘Oh no. The Vogue heels?’

‘The
slutty
heels!’ she shouted.

An old bloke sitting on a deckchair nearby turned and
frowned at us. It was the same guy who’d given us evils for singing ‘The Final
Countdown’ yesterday, I realised. I gave him an apologetic smile and turned to
my mouthy friend.

‘You know I can’t walk in them, Cara.’

She checked her watch. ‘So get Luke to carry you then.’

‘Ha ha. Where is it we’re going anyway?’

‘Bar crawl and then some new club called Infinity.’

‘Crawl is likely in my case if you make me wear those
shoes.’

‘Wear them for Luke,’ she said. ‘Guys love heels.’ She
checked her watch again.

‘Are you late for something?’

‘Not at all!’

I peered at her. ‘What’s up with you? You’re all… wriggly.’

‘Worms,’ she declared cheerily, and then launched into a
lengthy list of outfit options for the night.

I sat back and stared out to sea. Funny – last time I’d
looked there had been loads of surfers out there, but now only a few remained;
the rest had waded back in and were spread around the middle of the beach, amid
napping grandpas and picnicking families and snogging youths. Somewhere near
the shoreline I saw Si and Tamara fiddling with their boards. Geoff and Lucy
were stretched out by a gang of lads playing football. Mouse and Kyle were
sitting together on the sand looking out to sea. I scouted around some more.
That bloke lying on his back sunbathing had ginger hair: Andy? And there,
meandering along the shore with his board, was Duvali. I looked for Luke. There
– he was weaving his way over, board under his arm.

He dumped the board beside me and sat down on it, bending
over to give me a peck on the cheek. Without waiting for a response he leaned
forward to look at Cara. ‘All right, sis?’

‘All
right
,’ was her reply.

I was just opening my mouth to ask why everyone was
beach-bound already when an almighty beat pounding out right beside me made me
jump. Queen, ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’. I cringed and turned to tell Cara she’d
better turn the volume down, but she was no longer beside me. She was up, on
the sand beside the rug. And she was dancing. Swaying, head tossed back, hands
ribboning fluidly through the air – until the chorus came in, and then she was
crazy
-dancing.

I watched her with a smile, my mad, fearless friend. Old
glary man was going to love this. I flicked my eyes his way now, to get his
reaction. He was reading his newspaper. But a mum to the side of him was
watching, wide-eyed, and a little kid had frozen mid-sandcastle. In fact, a
good number of people were gawping at us now, thanks to the deafening music. We
were going to have some angry people coming our way any minute.

Movement amid the gawpers caught my eye. Mouse and Kyle.
Facing us. Dancing. Dancing!

And then Si and Tamara.

And then a whole bunch of strangers in wetsuits – short,
tall, thin, fat, teenaged, middle-aged – executing a fast-paced dance routine
in pretty decent synchronisation.

Flash mob!

I turned to grab Luke – he had to see this!

He wasn’t beside me any more. He was up on his board,
dancing.

I clapped a hand to my mouth but a laugh of delight escaped
anyway.
Luke!

Beyond Luke, the beach was a frenzy of activity – gobsmacked
people sitting and standing surrounded by grinning surfers dancing it out. I
spotted Geoff and Lucy giving it large, and Andy, and Duvali. And there, out on
the sea, straddling his surfboard, Big Ben, floater from the waist down, dancer
from the waist up.

But it was the final wave of people to join in that most
tickled me. For among them was old glary man. He stood slowly, shakily, and
eased off his checked shirt to reveal a neoprene vest beneath, and then he was
off – arms twisting, turning, seriously working his way through the routine.

I watched them all avidly, from the epicentre of it all,
alternating between laughing and grinning wide enough to split my lips, legs
jiggling to the beat, half-wishing I could be up there with them.

And then Freddie Mercury was on the final refrain, and then
the music faded and then, just like that, it was over. Casual as you like,
everyone switched right back into normality, returning to sunbathing and chatting
and reading the paper, as if the last three and a half minutes had never
occurred. And yet the joy of it all hung palpably in the air.

Luke collapsed beside me. ‘Told you I’d keep you on your
toes,’ he said.

I grinned at him. ‘That was awesome. Surreal. Weird.
Awesome
.
Who organised that?’

‘Who d’you think?’ said Cara beside me.

I turned to look at her. She was radiant.

‘You did this?’

‘Yep. With a little help from knows-everyone Si, naturally.
And his choreographer mate, Tamara.’

‘Oh. Aren’t they –’

‘No, silly. She’s the one who trained us up.’

‘Well, she did a great job. It was
awesome
. You were
awesome. Getting up before everyone else...’

‘Awesome?’

‘Awesome!’

‘You
were
awesome, Cara,’ said Luke. ‘I thought you
were only doing the routine from the waist up? I swear there was some foot
action creeping in there.’

‘You noticed? My legs are a little… looser today.’ She
looked at me. ‘You don’t mind that we didn’t include you? We started planning
this months ago, before you came to the cove, and well, Luke…’

‘I wanted to surprise you,’ he told me.

‘You certainly did that.’

‘Good surprise?’

‘Good surprise.’

‘Good like your boyfriend’s a loveable goof who can’t dance,
or good like your boyfriend’s got all the moves and was so damn sexy doing the
step-tap-step-tap that you could barely contain your urge to pounce on him and
kiss him?’

In answer, I pounced, knocking him back onto the sand, and
kissed my loveable goof with laughing lips.

The afternoon hanging about the apartment was heaven. The
sunbathing on the balcony was heaven. The siesta with Luke was heaven. The
dolling-up session with Cara was heaven. The takeaway pizza was heaven. The
walk into town was heaven. The cosmopolitan in Bar de Nada was heaven. The
woo-woo in Rhu-Bar was heaven. The sex on the beach in Baa-Bar was heaven.

The Infinity club was hell.

Well, at least that was my first thought when the bouncer
ushered us through and I stepped into a cavernous, dark, sweaty room full to
bursting with scantily clad girls and horny blokes. The lights were flashing
fit to bring on an instant migraine and the music was loud enough that it was
pulsing through me in a way that felt unpleasantly like heart palpitations.

‘All right?’ shouted Luke in my ear.

‘It’s quite loud,’ I commented.

‘What?’

‘IT’S QUITE LOUD.’

He pointed to his ear and shook his head.

I gave him a thumbs-up instead.

The evening was warm enough that we’d walked down without
jackets, so we gave the cloakroom a miss and Si led the way to the bar. This
time, I ordered a pint of lemonade – I had a feeling I was going to need to
rehydrate given the temperature in the room. Once we’d all been served, Si
gestured for us to follow him, and he bopped in time with the beat along the
walkway edging the dance floor. As I followed Cara, I looked out at the mass of
writhing, jiggling, jumping, flailing bodies immersed in the drum-and-bass
track. It was a far cry from this afternoon’s flash mob – classic eighties
music and a choreographed routine. I knew which I preferred.

An impressively inebriated man crashed into me, knocking me
back into Luke.

‘Hey!’ my boyfriend shouted over my head. ‘Watch it!’

The man gave a wobbly salute and squirled off into the
throng.

I dodged a gropy guy and two girls having a handbag fight
before reaching our destination: a small, curtained-off snug attached to the
main room. It had mirrored walls and purple velvet banquette seating and not a
single reveller but for those in our group.

‘Hallelujah,’ I breathed, stepping in.

I sank onto a seat beside Cara, and Luke slid in beside me.
It was a little quieter in here, even with the curtains swept wide open – quiet
enough to have a conversation without screaming, at least. Still, Cara didn’t
bother to temper her volume in the slightest.

‘It’s a circus out there!’ she hollered. ‘Did you see that
group of stags with inflatable sex dolls? And that woman with her bra on over
her dress? And that beanpole bloke in the spotty suit and the massive wig? And
the girls wearing fairy lights – in September!’

‘Cara,’ said Luke. ‘
Breathe
, will you?’

She did, for all of a second, and then announced, ‘I
love
it!’

Luke rolled his eyes. ‘First timer.’

‘You club a lot then, Luke?’ I said, before Cara could come
back at him.

‘Er…’

Cara took a big gulp of her drink, and then yelled, ‘C’mon!
Who’s dancing?’

Kyle, to her other side, shook his head. Cara pouted, and Si
stepped in smoothly.

‘Come on, CC. I’m always up for it.’

He held out a hand and Cara took it and stood up. I watched
as they weaved their way out to the dance floor. They made a striking couple –
both outgoing, both charismatic, both decked out in zany designer clothes, even
if Si’s were from Bond Street and Cara’s were from Oxfam. As I watched Si
leaned down and said something in Cara’s ear, and she threw her head back and laughed.

‘Oh,’ I said.
‘Him.’
And then cursed myself for
thinking aloud when Luke said at once:

‘Him who?’

Well, perhaps it was better coming from me…

‘Si,’ I said. He looked confused, so I added, ‘And Cara.’

‘What about them?’

I gently took his head in my hands and turned it towards the
dance floor, where his sister and his mate were moving energetically to the
beat.

‘Oh, I see,’ said Luke. ‘Yeah, those are some bizarre
moves.’

‘And yet they pull them off. Together.’

‘Er… do they?’

‘Yes.’

Luke watched them for a short while, until funky move became
flirty move. I saw his eyebrows sink. He bellowed over my head:

‘Hey, Kyle!’

‘What’s up?’ said Kyle, breaking off his conversation with
Andy.

‘Shouldn’t you be dancing with my sister?’ said Luke,
jabbing towards the dance floor with his thumb.

Kyle looked over at Cara and Si, grinned and said to Luke,
‘No, man.’

With that he turned back to Andy, leaving Luke to gape at
the back of his head.

‘Hey,’ I said, reaching over and touching the spot between
his eyebrows. ‘If you frown any more, you’ll have a unibrow. Like Bert on
Sesame
Street
.’

‘Cara and Si!’ he said. ‘How long?’

I shook my head. ‘They’re not. Yet. But it looks like he
likes her too, so hopefully, in time….’

‘But she’s my little sister!’

‘Pretty much my age, Luke.’

‘But Si’s so…’

‘... great. Which is why you’ve been friends for so long.’

‘Hmph,’ he said.

I squeezed his hand. ‘Cara’s always been totally supportive
of her friend seeing her brother, hasn’t she? So of course you’d be supportive
of your friend seeing your sister.’

He thought about that, and then exhaled slowly. ‘Scarlett
Blake,’ he said. ‘You have an infuriating habit of talking sense. Except the
Sesame
Street
thing. I don’t look like Bert.’

‘Well, your hair is dark and kind of prone to sticking out…’

He cut me off with a kiss, and I felt his laugh through it,
the vibrations tickling my lips.

‘Speaking of looks,’ he said, ‘did I mention that you’re
stunning tonight? I especially look forward to removing those shoes later.’

I glanced down at my outfit – a Cara pick. Tight cropped
black trousers, a crimson chiffon shirt and the red strappy sandals I’d worn to
my first Si party. I rather envied Luke for being able to come out in jeans
(albeit smart ones) and a simple black shirt. Pretty much the only part of my
outfit I was comfortable with was the necklace – Luke’s pendant, which I wore
always.

‘So, is the lady in red dancing with me tonight?’

I plastered a smile on my face. ‘Sure, let’s –’

‘Don’t bother,’ he said. ‘I can see this isn’t your thing.’

‘I’m sorry –’

He kissed the end of my nose. ‘Don’t be daft. You don’t have
to be anything you’re not with me. Besides, I’m all danced out for today. How
about we just stay here?’

So we did. For the next hour, as our friends came and went
around us, we snuggled and talked and kissed and people-watched. And I began to
think that Club Infinity wasn’t
quite
so hellish.

Eventually, when my drink glass had stood empty on the table
for a good while and the heat was starting to get to me again, Luke headed off
to do a bar run, leaving me alone in the snug. I relaxed back into the seat and
scanned the crowd for glimpses of the others. I spotted Cara, dancing with Si
and Mouse in the middle of the floor. Geoff and Lucy were jumping up and down
by the speakers, and Duvali was attempting some dodgy Patrick Swayze moves with
a laughing Tamara. Liam and Andy and Kyle were elusive, though, and I stood up
to scan further. I checked the dance floor, the bar – there they were, lined up
doing slammers. But I couldn’t pick out Luke towering above the other drinkers
there. I let my eyes stray across from the bar, over to the toilets, but along
the way my gaze froze. Over by the DJ box, underneath a glowing Fire Exit sign,
I saw someone I knew.

Not my boyfriend, though.

My sister.