Julia Green

Hunter's Heart

Simon scuffs along the town beach. His jeans are soaked; the legs acting like a sort of wick, sucking up water from the puddles he makes no effort to avoid. He's seen her, the girl. Leah. In one of the shelters. He keeps his head down, but she's already spotted him. She's waving. She does that flick thing with her hair.
  'Hi, Simon!'
  He grunts. Keeps walking, head down.
  She slides off the bench and picks her way over the wet sand towards him. Heat prickles along his neck. What does she want now? 
  'All right?' Leah asks.
  'Yes.'
  'You were late last night. Where were you?'
  Simon can't trust his voice to come out right. It might be a squeak, it might be unnaturally deep. Or both at the same time. So he says nothing.
  'Where is there to go round here?' Leah persists.
  Simon shrugs.
  'Well?'
  'Just out.'
  'Where are you going now?'
  Why does she want to know? What's she playing at? Simon can't imagine why she's speaking to him like this. She's so close up he can smell her hair: a clean, sweet smell. Apples. He's expecting her to laugh at him any minute.
  'Nowhere, really' he says.
  'Can I come with you?'
  Simon is so shocked he looks directly at her. She's not laughing. Her blue-grey eyes stare right back at him.
  'Please?' she says, as if she really wants to.
  'OK,' Simon says, as if he doesn't care either way. 'If you really want. I thought I'd just go along the cliff a bit. There's this place. He breaks off. Don't tell her about that! Idiot! It's supposed to be secret.
  'Are you hungry?' Leah asks. 'I'm starving. Can we get some chips or something first? I'll buy yours if you want.'
  He stands behind her, a few paces back, while she orders and pays. She hands him the polystyrene pack and he helps himself to vinegar from the bottle at the kiosk counter. They eat them walking along. It means he doesn't have to speak, although Leah keeps up a steady steam of observations and questions.
  'I've seen you out on your bike, and with those boys you hang out with.'
  'Your mum was pretty mad with you when you got back, wasn't she? She's nice, Nina. And your little sister is really sweet.'
  It's as if she's been watching him the same as he watches her. He can't quite believe it. He tears the empty chip tray into strips as they walk, them crumples the bits in his hand.
  The sky is clearing fast now the wind's got up. Blue sky stretches over the sea and the sun's almost out. At the end of the town beach they take the concrete path up over the Island. It's concreted over so people in wheelchairs can get up there to see the view from the top over the bay. It's not really an island, of course.
  'Let's sit for a bit,' Leah says.
  Simon perches himself at the other end f the bench. He's hopelessly out of his depth now. What next? He'd been planning to walk along the cliff as far as the rope and the swimming cove, but he can't go there with her.
  'Who's your mum's boyfriend then?'
  'She hasn't got one,' Simon mumbles.
  'Well, who was that bloke who drove her home last night?'
  'What?'
  'Matt someone?'
  Simon blushes. That's just some teacher from my school. Not her boyfriend.'
  'Oh.' Leah smiles.
  What does that mean? 
  And what was my art teacher doing driving Mum home, anyway? She went in her own car. Simon doesn't want to think about any of this.
  'I'm going on. See you around.' He gets up and starts walking fast up the path to the cliff.
  'Hang on. Wait!'
  He doesn't. His heart's hammering and he just wants to be by himself. He can hear Leah panting behind. She doesn't give up easily, does she? She wearing the wrong things for a rough walk along the cliff. It'll be muddy. Wet grass and gorse brush your legs all the way along this first bit. He hears her stumbling along, trying to catch up with him. Eventually he softens, turns, waits.  
  'I'm not used to going so fast,' Leah says, as if she hasn't cottoned on that he's deliberately trying to leave her behind. 'And the path's really slippy.'
  'You should go back. It gets worse,' Simon says.
  Below them, the sea crashes and foams on the black rocks. Further out, it sparkles in sunshine. The path dips and curves along the steep cliff edge. You can get giddy just looking down. He can't get the thought of his mother and Mr Davies out of his head. What the hell is she playing at?
  'If you slipped,' Leah is saying, 'you could fall right down there on to the rocks. You'd die.'
  'Possibly,' Simon agrees. 'But there's bushes and stuff to break your fall.'
  'Why isn't there a fence? Signs saying how dangerous it is?'
  'It's the countryside, isn't it? Anyway, how come you've never been here before? How long've you lived here?'
  Leah shrugs. 'Years. Always. We don't do walks, my family. We don't do anything for that matter.'
  They walk in single file along the narrow path. Simon starts thinking back to last night. The dead magpie. Drinking Johnny's cider. Nina going on and on at home when he got back so late. He hadn't realised how late it was because of the moonlight. 
  'Last night,' Simon says out loud, 'there was this amazing moon. So bright it was like daylight.'
  'I know,' Leah says. 'I saw it.'
  'Everything was silver. The grass, the trees, the sea even.'
  'Magic,' Leah says. 'So that's what you were doing last night. Walking.'
   She still hasn't turned back.
  'And other stuff,' Simon says. 'My mate's got an air rifle.'
  'Does he kill things?'
  'Oh yes. Crows, and a magpie.'
  'That's unlucky,' Leah says. 'One for sorrow. What do you kill? With that catapult thing?'
  She has been watching.
  'Not much,' he says. 'A rabbit once.'
  Leah screws up her face, but she doesn't say anything. Not like Simon expects her to. Like Ellie or Nina, going on about the poor sweet baby bunny. He likes her better for that.
  'It's hot now,' Leah says. 'The path's steaming! Look!'
  The air is heavy and full of the stink of wet vegetation. Slightly rotten, with the strong coconut smell of gorse flowers overlaying it.
  Simon turns away as Leah tugs her sweatshirt over her head. Not soon enough, though: he can't help glimpsing the taut smooth flesh of her stomach as she pulls up the hem of the sweatshirt. He looks down at the black rocks, the waves crashing in. Feels dizzy.
  She follows him along the path, up and down, in and out of each dip and rise of the coastline. He's thirsty, and hot now too. As they scramble up the next hill, he stops to cup his hand in the flow of a tiny spring trickling out of the rock. Leah copies him.
  'Is it OK to drink?'
  Simon nods. 'It's just out of the hillside. Not as if some sheep's been peeing in it or anything, which is what happens in a stream.'
  Leah leans and stretches herself, hands on her back.
  'Isn't there a place we can sit? I'm tired.'
  'Not yet.'
  He walks the next section of the path more slowly, even though he's not tired at all. It isn't that far now till they reach the place where the path opens out into a steeply sloping green field, and then there's the rope, and a way down. He's going to do it. Take her there. It's too late to turn back now.

Hunter's Heart © Julia Green, 2005. Published by Puffin Books.