A Thousand Salt Kisses Forever (Third Book in Salt Kisses series)

Not In The Right Place

I looked at the waiting room clock and suppressed a scream of frustration. It was nearly quarter to five. Three bloody hours we had been in the hospital, waiting to see a doctor. And the longer we had waited the more I had started to fret. I was supposed to go to the meeting tonight with Llyr. How was I going to know how to get there now? George was supposed to give me instructions, but if he had come by, nobody would have been home.

The more and more frustrated I got, the more I could see Mum and Dad shooting each other worried glances. There had been several occasions when my worry reached its peak and I had stood up and walked over to the water cooler, snatching a cup from the plastic depository. I was so anxious about what would happen if I didn't show up tonight. It was not going to look good AT ALL, and I just couldn't bear to let Llyr down either, especially given everything he was risking for me. The whole situation was just excruciating.

My parents had not returned my phone to me this morning otherwise I could have texted Rosie. I thought about asking Dad for his so that I could go around the corner and call George. But then I remembered; George was the only person left on the planet who didn't own a phone.

"Crystal White?"

I looked up and saw a nurse had come into the waiting area.

"Yes!" I cried, leaping to my feet, before forcing myself to take it down a notch or two. I did not want to come across as manic. "That is...who I am," I tried breezily.

"This way, please," she said, summoning us into a room where a psychiatrist sat. He took one look at me and frowned.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, as we settled down.

"My daughter is clearly not well," said Dad. "She has been out swimming in the freezing cold sea, and she came in this morning, speaking of merfolk. She-she even claims she IS one."

"I was joking," I explained to the doctor tensely. "I thought I would try and have a morning dip like I have been all summer, but it has become too cold, and so I came back into the house and made an innocent joke about being a mermaid." Dad's snowy white eyebrows shot up with surprise. "But Dad wouldn't believe me because he heard this ridiculous rumour that I had spent the summer in a mental hospital," I continued. "Please, can you tell him that this is not the case, Doctor?"

The doctor sighed and looked at his computer. "There are no notes of any hospital admission," he told my father firmly. Dad frowned and looked at Mum.

The doctor cleared his throat and asked me a few questions; was I hearing voices, suffering any intrusive thoughts?

I paused at this last question, Llyr's mother coming to mind. I quickly decided it would not be in my interest to inform him of a sea goddess communicating from beyond the grave, and so I shook my head and smiled. "No, Doctor," I answered sweetly.

"Okay, she seems fine to me," said the doctor impatiently. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some very unwell patients to take care of."

Dad sighed and shook his head. I felt a wrench of guilt as I looked at his face, he looked truly tormented, and it was probably because he knew I had lied. I think we both knew that I had not been joking this morning. "Are you sure?" he asked pleadingly.

"She's fine," said the doctor. "She's communicating normally, no evidence of any delusional beliefs or internal stimuli. She's not disheveled or disorientated. I suggest you just take her home and relax, maybe try to listen to her next time."

Dad's face collapsed at this point, and I felt awful. Now he felt like a neglectful father, which was quite simply the last thing he was. I sat down next to him and put my arm around his shoulders.

"It's okay, Dad," I said, hugging him tightly. "He's the best dad in the whole world," I told the doctor, defensively.

Dad put a hand on my arm before letting out a long defeated sigh and standing up. I knew he still thought I was not right, but there was really nothing else he could do.

I stood up too and tugged at his hand. "Can we go home now?" I pleaded softly. With a bit of luck, I could still get out to The Jewel tonight.

***

We chugged back to Starfish. Dad stood steering the boat but he was lost in a daze. Mum sat opposite me in dead silence whilst I, on the other hand, was completely restless. I fidgeted and sighed and then looked out at the golden sunset-streaked sea willing myself to take deep meditative breaths. I looked back again at Dad's sad face and my heart sank.

Oh, how I wished I could just throw myself in and show them what I had become! Unfortunately, there were boats everywhere, people coming back from work on the mainland. It just wasn't safe.

As soon as we reached home I leaped onto the jetty and bounded towards the house. Maybe George had left me a note or something. I pulled open the door and looked around on the floor for an envelope or folded piece of paper. Nothing. Dammit!

I bounded upstairs to find my mobile. Maybe, just maybe, he had thought to get my number from somebody. I raced into my parents' room and spotted it immediately glinting in the corner on a chest of drawers.

My heart soared as I saw I had five missed calls. And I pressed the button to see who they were from.

Jemima.

Suddenly I remembered. Shit. Oh shit.

I sank slowly onto the bed, my head spinning as I was hit by the realization that we were supposed to have met this evening. I called her back immediately, trying desperately to think of an excuse as it rang.

"Hello," came a cold voice on the other end.

"Jemima," I gasped. "I'm so, so, so sorry."

"Whatever," she replied abruptly.

"No, I am!" I cried. "I really am!"

"So, where were you?" she asked.

"Mum and Dad took me to hospital," I said. "They ... they spoke to your dad actually yesterday, he told them about your worries, and they wanted to check I was okay."

"Well, I'm glad that they're finally getting you some proper help," said Jemima.

"I don't need he-," I began, before remembering that I might actually need Jemima to believe I was suffering from a mental illness. "I mean, yes, yes, it's good and everything but I'm so, so gutted that I missed you- I forgot my phone."

"It seems you always forget about me," said Jemima. "I mean, I know you're ill or whatever, and I've tried to be patient and understanding, but I really do feel that you could just have tried a tiny bit more."

"I know," I said. "I'm so sorry, I just hope you can forgive me-"

"Look, Crystal, I love you and everything," she said cutting me off. "Like I said, I didn't want you to organise anything, all I wanted in my maid of honour was a friend. Someone who was going to hold my hand through this."

I felt my eyes sting. I suddenly knew where this was going.

"It's scary and a huge deal getting married. I just thought you were going to be there for me in an emotional sense... but it's like you're nowhere to be found, and I was going to talk to you about how I was feeling tonight... but you didn't even show up... and so I made a decision."

I waited silently, trying to hold back the tears.

"I just don't think you are in the right place to be my maid of honour, anymore," she said, finally.