A Thousand Salt Kisses (Book 1 of Salt Kiss series)

><> Chapter Thirty-Six <><

I had been curled up in bed with a cold for the past few days. I guess it was only a matter of time before one of my night-time swims took its toll on me.

My Dad had queried how I had ended up with a cold in the middle of summer and I had simply shrugged mutely. I really couldn't think of a reasonable excuse so playing dumb seemed like the best option.

Fortunately, Dad had been completely obsessed by the anti-SKANX demonstration, and hadn't really paid me or my cold too much attention. I had tried to help him paint some banners, but had had a sneezing fit all over them, and Dad had ordered me upstairs to rest.

When he wasn't painting banners, Dad had been shooting around the island, mainly between Seaman's lodge - to meet with the other organizers - and home, where he seemed to have had a string of phone conferences.

Yesterday, I had overheard a conversation, which I had to admit left me both baffled and concerned.

I had come out of my room to use the bathroom, and could hear Dad talking in a hushed voice in his bedroom. I had tiptoed along the corridor and put my ear up to the door.

"Did you get the wire cutters - sorry - carrots and potatoes?" Dad was saying.

Wire cutters? Carrots and potatoes? Either Dad was going a bit batty or carrots and potatoes were code words for wire cutters, which Dad was not very good at using. What worried me, was that if I was right about the latter then why, oh why, did Dad need wire cutters?

I reached for a tissue. I still felt pretty rough, although the cold was clearing up slightly. I was now blowing my nose about three times a minute, as opposed to twenty.

Today was the big day. The demonstration would have kicked off earlier but I had been far away from Coney, tucked under the covers watching films. Dad had of course been gone since the crack of dawn, but I was just not feeling up it. I had forced myself to take Maurice around the block in the morning and now he was curled up loyally on the rug by my bed.

Poor Dog. He probably wonders what on earth is going on in this house, and where Mum's gone. I wish I could tell him everything. Still, maybe ignorance is bliss when it comes to this sorry state of affairs.

I was now on texting terms with my mother and had learned that she had got herself a studio flat in Coney Bay, which, she reported, enabled her a nice quick taxi journey to work. 

"Good for you," I had sneered sarcastically, upon reading her text.

I wondered why she was still even here. Now she wasn't with Dad she could easily just go back to London. She had done nothing but moan about being here since she arrived. Perhaps it was her romance with Mr Geake that was now keeping her in Coney. She must like him so much...

I lay in bed thinking about it and began to seethe. How could that awful man steal my Mum away from my wonderful Dad? For the first time in my life I began to have violent ideations. I pictured myself wielding a couple of Samuri Swords as he sat there quivering. It made me feel much better.

Once I calmed down, I rewound my film. I had become so enraged that I had missed the last ten minutes, but now my iPad was playing up. It was being painfully slow and refusing to reload. I sat there impatiently as a little circle swirled on the screen. Not one for patience, I became too annoyed to persevere and flung it down on the bed. I was tired anyway and decided I would just go to sleep.

***

I must have drifted off quickly and when I awoke, I looked outside and saw the sun was setting over the sea and that our jetty was lit up by its orange light.

My thoughts instantly travelled to Llyr and how he would usually have arrived down there with some borrowed boat around this time. I giggled thinking about the 'fiddly' boat he couldn't operate. I wondered when he would next come to me. I missed him so much.

There was a ringing in the house. I sat up and listened. It was the sound of our landline. I decided to ignore it. It won't be for me anyway, I thought snuggling under my blankets. All my friends call my mobile.

I was just about to fall asleep again when I heard more ringing.

"Eugh, go away!" I cried from under my cover. Who is this person bothering me? Surely everybody knows by now that Mum doesn't live here anymore, and Dad is on his famous demonstration?

It stopped and I closed my eyes, relishing the silence.

There it was again. For Goodness' sake; I suppose I'm going to have to go and answer it.

I begrudgingly threw back the covers and stomped into the corridor and down the stairs. The phone was in its cradle in the corridor flashing as it rang. I picked it up and was just about to press the answer button when it stopped.

"Oh typical!" I muttered slamming it back in its cradle. As I was now up I wandered into the kitchen. It must be Lemsip time by now, I thought flicking on the kettle.

I idly picked up the remote and turned on the TV. A cartoon of a sea monster was on Channel 3 and I hurriedly changed over, immediately thinking of my very own real life sea monster experience. I shivered, either from trauma or fever, maybe a little of both.

The opening jingle of the local news came on and I put the remote down on the counter. May as well check out the headlines, I thought, opening the cabinet and pulling out a box of Lemsip.

I was halfway through ripping open the sachet, when I heard the word 'protestors'. I turned around and suddenly the most horrifying image flashed before my eyes.

I dropped the sachet on the floor, adrenaline pounding through my body, my heart racing a million beats a minute.

My father was pictured hundreds of feet off the ground, dangling in some kind of flimsy harness. He was splayed across the front of a very large building with an unfurled banner reading "SMASH SKANX".

"Oh my God!" I shouted. "Oh my God!"

I rushed into the corridor and picked up the phone, dialing 1471 as fast as I could to find out who had been calling the house. I scribbled down the number and then rang it back as quickly as my trembling hands would allow me to.

"Coney Police?" came a voice on the other end.

"Hi, my name is Crystal," I began. "Crystal White."