Beneath The Waves

(19) All The Time In The World

Chapter 19

“You’ve been on your phone all day,” Sean noted, leaning back on his chair during the middle of geography. 

 “Shh.” Ryan glanced up to make sure the teacher hadn’t heard. But no, he was still tapping away at solitaire on his phone, ignoring the chatter of the class. “Yeah, it’s... kinda important.”

 “Family stuff?” Sean guessed, a slight crease forming between his eyes. 

 Ryan pressed the send button, and tilted the phone away slightly so Sean wouldn’t see Frankie’s name across the screen. “Something like that.”

 Because technically, saving Noah was family stuff. He just wasn’t sure when that was going to happen. Or whether finding these kelpies would help at all. 

 At lunch, Taylor swiped Ryan’s phone out of his hands from under his nose. “Off that, mister. You haven’t been off it all day.” 

 Ryan held his glass of water over her head. “Don’t think I won’t do it.”

 Taylor shrieked and scurried under the table, dropping Ryan’s phone on his tray. Ryan scooped it up with a grin. 

 Ethan had just looked up from his own phone. “Band practice is moved to Saturday.”

 Ryan frowned as Taylor emerged from under the table, eyeing Ryan’s water glass distrustfully. When she established it wasn’t going to leap up and attack her, she settled back to nibbling at a corner of bread roll. 

“Why?” Ryan asked Ethan. “It’s normally on Sunday.”

 “Zack’s visiting his dad.” Ethan shrugged and snatched Holly’s uneaten bread roll off her plate, scarfing down the small, powdery loaf in three bites and scattering the air with puffs of flour. 

 Holly squealed in protest, but didn’t seem that bothered. From what Ryan saw, girls only ever ate half of what was on their plates, as if any more would poison them.  

“I won’t be able to make Saturday,” Ryan said, thinking of his planned boat trip with Frankie to find another Siren. 

“Ach, mate, Cassie’ll bite your head off.” Ethan shook his head warningly. “Sure you can’t rearrange?”  

Ryan shook his head. “Sorry.”  

Ethan shrugged. “Your funeral.” 

“You can still make Friday, right?” Melanie checked.  

For some reason, Ryan felt a jerk of irritation. “What would happen if I didn’t?” 

“We’d kill you,” Taylor said, with alarming seriousness, biting into an apple.  

“You can though, can’t you?” Melanie said anxiously.  

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed finally. “I always do, don’t I?”  

***

Frankie wrinkled her nose against the salty, coppery stench of blood wafting from the plastic bag by her side. Tennyson seemed excited by it, though; he kept nudging it interestedly with his nose, his tail churning the air. 

“Stop it,” Frankie chided, for about the fifth time. She wondered briefly whether it was a good idea to have brought Tennyson along – maybe he’d scare away any Kelpies, or get hurt by one – but she knew how much he hated being left home alone. 

The estuary looked even more beautiful than usual today in the late afternoon. A deep gold sun burnished a bright, orangey path against the softly pulsating ripples, highlighting the last few fringes of snow crusted against the grass. It sparkled softly like crystals set on silver.