Page 44 of Finding Love at the Magical Curiosity Shop
A few weeks ago, I’m pretty certain this would’ve been an insult, but right now, he can’t stop his lips twitching into a smile, and it fills my heart with joy because Iknowhe means it in a good way.
‘I even got a hug this morning,’ he continues. ‘And maybe that’s something to do with you too.’
‘Hugs engender hugs?’
‘I guess we need to put that theory to the test?’ he says with a grin, and I reach over and rub his thigh, and he smiles to himself in a way that suggests it’s a good thing he’s not going to take his hands off the steering wheel any time soon.
‘Oh, noooo, he’s really ill. What if he dies?’ It isn’t long later that Ava rips her headphones out, and when I turn in my seat to look over at her, she looks distraught.
‘He’s not going to die,’ I reassure her.
‘You don’t know that. Not every story has a happy ending,’ Ren says. ‘What does it say?’
Ava paraphrases the entry, and Ren huffs. ‘It sounds like he has an infection and they have no medical intervention. He might die, Ave. You need to prepare yourself.’
On the one hand, Iunderstandwhy he’s saying it, why he doesn’t want Ava to be upset if the mystery sailordoesdie, but on the other hand, a bit of hope wouldn’t go amiss, would it? ‘Can I read it?’
Ava passes the book over and I spread it open on my lap, trying to ignore Ren’s eyes flicking sideways as I read.
3 April 1899
His leg is causing him pain. I fear the broken bone will not heal, but I don’t know what to do about it. It has been many weeks. If he was under a doctor’s care, it would be mended by now.
His skin is too warm and his teeth chatter even though he is burning hot to the touch. I do not know if I should try to cool him down or keep him warm. My hands shake as I try to tend him, and my mind is flooded with all the worst possibilities. What if he is unable to recover? What if he is to die right here in front of me? What if I am not good enough to save him?
What if I could have got him help, but I have not, simply because I like him being here, and I had not realised how lonely I was until he came?
He does not want food. He cannot keep water down. I go out to the shore and ask my friends for help. If there is any magic in this boorish world, please let me find it tonight. I must save him.
I have done so many things wrong in my life, and tonight, I regret all of them. If I had not been so heartless, as selfish as my sister calls me, maybe the gods of the sea would see fit to save him. I will do anything. If I could give my life for his, I would.
My heart is in my throat as I turn the page to the next entry, wondering how the hellI’mgoing to cope if the next entry reveals the worst possible scenario.
6 April 1899
In my fear last night, I confessed my part in his shipwreck. I wrote the words that I had been hoping never to write – it is my fault you are here. I was supposed to prevent this from happening, but my mind wasn’t focused, and I caused this. Like all mermaids, my song ensnared you into the arms of danger.
He has accused me of luring their ship to its doom, and of murdering his best friend.
He is less warm today, but he pushes my hand away when I try to lay my fingers against his forehead. His leg is red and blotched. The bone is not healing properly, and the rope I have used to tie on the wooden boards is cutting into his skin, but I do not know how else to hold his leg straight while it heals.
He blames me for his predicament. It is my fault, after all, but I am glad that he does not look as unwell as he did yesterday. There is colour in his cheeks again, even though it is the putrid colour of anger, and it is directed at me.
He calls me a monster, and it makes me angry. I thought he was different to the others who label me with that name. I am not a monster, am I? I am different. It is he who has made me feel unlike a monster, and it hurts so very deep inside that in one angry exchange, he can undo all the good he has done.
I do not speak to him for the rest of the night. I am crying too hard. I didn’t want to cry in front of him, so I go out to the water where I have always been safe. I am weak and afraid. I will never be anything but a monster, and now, if he is to die, will I become a murderer too?
I suck air in through my teeth because it’s painful reading. You canfeelher hurt in every word. You can sense the emptiness inside her now he’s called her the one thing she thought he didn’t see her as. Even her writing has changed, like he’s broken something inside her soul.
‘If someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to pull over so I can read this thing too,’ Ren snaps.
‘I thought you didn’t care, Dad.’
He glances at me and then meets her eyes in the rearview mirror. ‘Turns out your old dad’s a bit of a softie after all.’
10 April 1899
He says he is sorry. He was angry, in pain, and scared, and sometimes words come out when he doesn’t intend them to. I don’t understand this, but maybe I would understand it if I had a voice of my own. Maybe it is like when I go to speak and forget that I cannot. If the words were able to, might they come out, even if I didn’t wish them to?
