Laura Kirkpatrick - And Then I Turned Into a Mermaid

Thankfully, there was soon a knock on the door, and Margot, Melissa and Molly all dashed out of the kitchen to escape the grossest dinner they had ever had. Molly got to the door first, and swung it opened breathlessly.

Eddie of the Ears stood before her, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Eddie, whose ears would’ve looked more at home on a baby elephant, was in Molly’s class at school. He was one of the regulars at the chip shop, and always ordered the same thing: chips and bits. Molly didn’t blame him. Those bitty, salty scraps of batter scooped from the top of the deep fat fryer were second only to white chocolate in her eyes.

Clutched in his hand was a large seashell with something painted on the curves.

Margot grinned in disbelief. ‘Eddie of the . . . Eddie.’

‘It’s OK,’ Eddie said, smiling widely. ‘You can say Ears. Although Eddie of the Eddie has a certain ring to it.’

Molly shifted uncomfortably, willing her sisters not to say anything too embarrassing. ‘What are you doing here?’

Eddie shrugged. ‘I just wanted to say happy birthday. Because, you know, it’s your birthday. And I want you to be happy. Wait, no, that’s intense. Er . . . happy birthday, anyway.’

He held out the seashell, which had ‘Happy Birthday Mollie’ painted on it in pink and green. It looked a little like a toddler had written it, but it still made Molly feel warm and grateful.

‘Thank you, Eddie. That’s so sweet.’

‘Sorry it isn’t more,’ he said, pulling his beanie hat down so his flaming-red hair wasn’t on show. ‘I don’t have a job or anything.’

‘You can have mine if you want,’ Molly laughed. ‘All the free chips and bits you can eat.’

‘Awesome. They wouldn’t even have to pay me.’

‘Well, that’s a relief. They don’t pay me either.’ Molly rolled her eyes. ‘Getting to live in this lavish mansion is payment enough, my mum reckons.’

‘Do you want to come into our lavish mansion for some cake?’ Margot burst out. There was mischief written all over her face, and Molly made a mental scan of the living room for potential booby traps. Definitely a whoopee cushion under the armchair, and almost no condiments in the kitchen were safe.

‘What kind of cake?’ Eddie asked.

‘Scrambled egg,’ Margot said solemnly. ‘Beans and bacon are optional.’

Eddie looked confused and awkward. ‘What?’

‘Long story,’ Molly muttered hastily. ‘Eddie doesn’t want to come in, do you, Eddie?’

She actually wouldn’t have minded chatting to Eddie some more, since he was always pretty funny in the chip shop. But she didn’t trust her sisters not to do anything embarrassing, and she certainly didn’t trust Minnie not to try to kiss him like the poor pink unicorn.

Eddie, however, looked suddenly crestfallen. ‘I . . . no, I suppose not. Sorry for bothering you.’

‘No!’ Molly insisted, realising how awful her rejection sounded. ‘You weren’t bothering me at all. It’s just . . . my sisters are kind of intense. That’s all.’

‘Rude,’ said Margot indignantly.

‘Don’t worry.’ Eddie smiled. ‘I get it. See you at school.’

Before Molly could protest, Eddie strolled away dejectedly, hands stuffed in his pockets. He climbed into a beaten-up old car, which was waiting with its headlights on at the end of the street. His mum must’ve waited to see if he was staying, Molly realised with a pang. He was completely sweet, and she’d totally offended him.

‘Margot!’ Molly snapped, swirling on her heel. ‘Why’d you invite him in?’

‘What?’ Margot held her hands up in mock innocence. ‘He likes you! God knows why, because you’re the absolute worst, but still. He’s cute.’

‘Yes, but our family is not cute. Not in the slightest.’

Suddenly rummaging around in her mouth, Margot pulled out a chunk of omelette that she’d stored in her cheek like a hamster, then stuffed it hastily down the back of the battered velvet sofa. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

That evening, the sky was clear and smattered with twinkling stars. The new moon reflected in the smooth surface of the ocean. It was nearly midnight, and the town was fast asleep. And yet, for some absurd reason, here Molly was in a secluded little cove on Little Marmouth beach, shivering in her dolphin-print pyjamas.

Less than five minutes earlier, her mum had hauled her out of bed and out of the house. Despite Molly’s protests, her mum was adamant, and threatened to feed her tuna salad every day for a month if she didn’t oblige. Like any sane person, Molly detested tuna salad, and so here she was.

Now she was left wondering why on God’s sandy earth her mum and three older sisters were perching on a cluster of rocks and staring at her so expectantly as she stood at the edge of the water. Minnie had mercifully been left to snooze in the lighthouse mere metres away.

‘May I help you?’ Molly said. She patted her face to make sure there was nothing on it. The light of her torch swung wildly around the cove.

‘I wonder what colour it’s going to be?’ Margot chattered excitedly, hopping from one foot to the other. Her long curly hair was wrapped up in a silk sleep turban, which she’d stolen from the snooty old lady on the promenade.

‘It better not be yellow. That’s my favourite colour.’ Melissa folded her arms across her chest.

Margot snorted. ‘Definitely not pink. What’s the opposite of pink?’

Myla pushed her glasses up her straight nose. ‘RGB and CMY are the correct representations of the spectrum of visible light, wherein the opposite of red is cyan, and the opposite of light is dark. Thus, the opposite of light red, a.k.a. pink, is dark cyan, a.k.a. teal.’

Margot smirked. ‘Or . . . pinkn’t.’

A wave crashed and fizzed on the sand, narrowly missing Molly’s feet. The tide was coming in.

Molly was getting more irritated with every nonsensical comment. ‘What are you talking about, for the love of –’

‘Less of the lip, Molly,’ her mum tsked. Thankfully she was fully clothed this evening, which was a relief for everyone. ‘And for what it’s worth, my money’s on tangerine.’