Page 34 of Finding Love at the Magical Curiosity Shop
He says I saved his life that night and that I have saved it again every day since. He calls me his guardian angel. I have never been called an angel before – a demon, a monster, a devil, but never anything good. People have always feared my kind, but when he looks at me, he has a look in his eyes that is the opposite of fear. It is warmth, and hope, and awe. He touches me sometimes, just a hand on my hand, or a leg against my scales. Sometimes, when I lean over him to dress his wounds, he winds his fingers in my long hair and caresses it, like it is the source of all life, and I am something to be admired, not feared.
When I brought his food the other night, he kissed my hand. His beard scratched against my skin and I nearly fell over. It was the single most delicious thing I have ever felt. It made me cry and he laughed and made me sit beside him so he could put his arms around me.
Senses are dulled underwater, but since I have been out here with him, inside our shelter, every colour, every touch, and every smell feels brighter and clearer than it has before. I feel like I could sing, if I wanted to. I feel like I could spin around in circles like the most elegant dancer. If he could stand, he would lift me up and twirl us around, and I’d feel like I could fly.
When we get back to the shore in Arfordir-Môr-Forwyn, he will be taken from me. I am sure of it.
I don’t know what I shall do without him. What if I am wrong about the depth of his feelings? What if he only shows me kindness because we are in this situation? Alone, and he is injured and has only me to rely on. Back on land, there will be other women. Normal women. He will have his soft accent and his seafaring stories of dramatic mermaid rescues to tell, and he will be surrounded by beautiful women who look like I wish I could, with their pretty voices and enticing laughter, and I will be alone again.
Now I know what it is like to not be alone, I am terrified of ever facing my loneliness again.
We get to the end of the entry before I realise what we’ve just read and look excitedly at Ava and Ren. ‘Arfordir-Môr-Forwyn! I’ve heard of this place! It’s a little seaside village in west Wales. The name translates as “Mermaid Coast”. It must be their nearest port! This is the most solid lead we’ve had so far – his nameanda place.’
I pick my phone up again and google both things together, but nothing comes up, and I think about what we learnt about historical small boat sinkings – that our best hope would be newspaper articles from local authority archives. ‘So if Arfordir-Môr-Forwyn is where they’re going back to… it’s also where the wreckage would have been reported, right? Where any reports of shipwrecked sailors would’ve made the local headlines…’
‘That’s odd wording though, isn’t it?’ Ren taps a finger on the writing in diary and I feel like he’s deliberately ignoring my point. ‘Taken from. Not “we will be parted”, or anything along the lines of “he will leave, I will lose him, I will have to go”. He will betaken. Is there something we’re missing here?’
‘Never mind that. This is it! Confirmation ofwherethey are – somewhere we can go to check any official records and local newspaper stories from the time. This is what we’ve been waiting for! Let’s go there!’
Ava gasps in delight. ‘Oh my God! Can we?’
‘We’re not going there,’ Ren snaps. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’
‘I thought you wanted to prove this?’ I say, confused by his reaction. From the moment we found out that local archives would be our best bet, I thought that if we found an exact locality, it was a given that we’d go on a road trip to see if we could find out something about our mysterious diary keeper and her sailor.
‘Not by travelling 200 miles on a whim!’
I pick up my phone and google it. ‘It’s only about 120 miles actually, and it’s not “on a whim”, it’s because we’ve already looked at official records and come up with nothing, so now our only chance is going to the local authority and seeing if they have any info about what happened…’
‘Nothingeverhappened, Mickey! This isn’t real!’
‘You don’t know that. None of us know that. Which is exactlywhywe should go there.’
‘This is nonsensical twaddle that could go on forever. First they’re in Arfordir-Môr-Forwyn, but if we go there and it’s a waste of time, what next? You reckon he’s Irish, shall we go to Ireland too? If she’s a mermaid, do we take a road trip in a submarine and try to find her? This is a series of endless wild goose chases and none of us are going anywhere.’
‘Excuse me!’ I scoff and fold my arms. ‘I’m not one of your schoolkids. You can’t tell me whether I can go or not.I’mgoing. I can take a weekend off and drive down there. It’s not impossibly far.’ I look between them and then sigh as the realisation sinks in that I’m going to be doing it alone. ‘Don’t make me do it without you two.’
‘I didn’t mean…’ he sighs and shakes his head, but Ava interrupts before he can continue the sentence.
‘I want to go! Mickey’s right, weneedto find out whether this is real or not, and we’ve already looked here and found nothing.’
He frowns at her. ‘Absolutely not. My answer is final.’
‘She could come with me…’
Ava nods excitedly and takes a step around the counter so she’s standing next to me.
‘Do you honestly think I’m going to let my thirteen-year-old daughter go alone on a weekend trip with a stranger?’ He’s got an eyebrow raised and his mouth is set in a hard and uncompromising line.
I wince at the sharp tone in his voice and try to ignore the jolt of disappointment that he still considers me a stranger. I thought we’d been getting closer. I felt like we’d opened up to each other and started to let each other in to our lives. Have I really got that so wrong? ‘I’m not acompletestr?—’
‘Nooooo!’ Ava wails. ‘Why do you have to ruin everything? This is so unfair. You’re the worst dad in the world!’
Even I flinch at that. He’s more sensitive than he lets on, and I know that would’ve stung. I risk a glance at his face and can see the hurt look he’s unable to hide.
‘Ava…’ He tries to talk to her but she turns away, and then he fixes his frown on me instead. ‘Well, thank yousomuch for making me feel completely inadequate. You might be able to pop off to Wales if you feel like it, drive over a hundred miles at the drop of a hat, but I can’t. Some of us have adult responsibilities that aren’t governed by fictional sea creatures.’
I can feel a surprising amount of anger building towards him at this unexpected reaction. ‘Ihave adult responsibilities. I’m the sole owner of my own business, Ren! I can’t take time off without closing the shop, but things have to be balanced, and I think finding out something about this diary is worthwhile. In the long run, with the antiques fair, it’s likely to bring in more customers over all than the few I’ll lose by closing up for a couple of days.’
