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“Don’t pout, Amber. It’s unbecoming,” Auntie Maureen rummaged in her handbag for keys.
Amber rolled her eyes at the instruction as much as at the archaism.
“Fine, sulk as much as you like,” her aunt cautioned, locating the correct key on a laden keyring, “but those lines’ll be there for keeps if you don’t watch out.” Auntie Maureen fitted the key into the bookstore’s lock and swung the door open, switching on lights and bustling to the counter, inhaling deeply the way she always did. “Don’t you just love that smell?” she called as she went.
Amber followed her inside, wrinkling her nose at the fusty odour. She knew the question was rhetorical, and most likely intended to tease. Auntie Maureen might share her grandad’s liking of anything connected to old books, but the family trait ended with those two.
Although she hated to let anyone score, Amber paused at the closest thing on hand to a mirror: a dark, framed print hanging on the wall behind the open door’s glass, and smoothed her forehead with her fingers.
Her aunt grinned, “That’s better. I don’t see what you’re so cross about, anyway.”
“Nothing,” Amber muttered, trying to wipe the image of Ethan’s van and its passenger from her mind.
“Thanks for this morning,” Maureen said as she bent to open a cardboard box behind the desk. “It’s sweet of you to help me pick up my car.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got a free study period this morning and nothing worth studying.” Once again, she tried to push Ethan from her thoughts.
“Here it is! I wanted to show you this before we get the car. Your grandad’s booklet on mythology and the Bay, finally published!” She placed the booklet into Amber’s hands like it was precious.
Amber stared blankly at its cover. It looked like an olde worlde discovery map; a stylised ocean populated by old-fashioned-looking sea monsters, mermaids, and what looked like ghosts. It made her think of Skye. She couldn’t stop her frown from returning.
“Would you like a copy to keep?”
“Uh, no. It’s not really my thing. Thanks, though.”
Her aunt looked disappointed but unsurprised. “It’s been an enormous project for him. I couldn’t bear to let it go unfinished. We had them printed with council funding. It’ll be a hit with tourists, I bet. They can’t get enough of the stories about this place.”
“Mum hates those stories,” Amber replied, only half listening. What did Ethan see in Skye? She was so incredibly insipid she was practically a non-person. A helpless, pick-me-Ethan non-person. Amber lifted her hand to her forehead and pressed the frown away again, trying to Zen. He was so not worth getting a wrinkle over.
“I know she does. It’s because of our mother drowning in the Bay when we were little.”
Amber looked up at her aunt. Mum rarely talked about her and Maureen’s mother, the Nana Amber had never known.
“That’s probably what sparked Dad’s interest in the stories,” Maureen continued. “He isn’t the first, and I doubt he’ll be the last to get a little obsessed about reasons for deaths and disappearances in the Bay. I don’t know why. The sea does enough damage on its own without the help of mythical creatures.” She looked hopefully at Amber, “Are you sure you won’t come with me to see him? I’ve got time now - pick up my car and you could follow me out. It’s on your way, and you wouldn’t have to stay long. He’d love to see you.”
Amber shrugged, uncomfortable at the hint. “I don’t know if I’ll have time.” Her aunt was right, though. It had been a long while since she’d been to see Grandad. He was great when he was in his right mind, but whenever he didn’t even know who she was...
“Well, that’s all I stopped in for,” Maureen said, “to show you that. Now are you sure the workshop isn’t too far for you to drop me?”
“Stop fussing, Auntie Maureen! Truly, it’s fine.”
“Well, I really appreciate it. My treat for coffee if we pass somewhere. I think if we go along the waterfront, we should pass that new cafe. Well, newish. Actually, your friend works there, doesn’t she?”
“Morgan. Yeah, it’s called Bliss.”
“That’s it. Oh!”
Amber raised curious eyebrows. “What?”
“I just remembered! I promised one of these booklets to someone handing out fliers for that cafe’s opening. She was so interested in Dad’s work. She wanted one.”
Amber stared at her aunt, then at the booklet. She opened it and fanned through the pages.
Auntie Maureen began rifling through desk drawers. “She really seemed so interested in it. What was her name now? I’m pretty sure I kept... Yes! Got it. You might know her.” She passed the flier to Amber. “We’ll head off now, shall we?”
With absolutely no surprise, Amber read the name scrawled on the creased Bliss flier. Skye Sebastian. On autopilot, Amber turned and followed her aunt to the door.
“Recognise the name?” Maureen waited just inside the doorway, holding the door a little away from the wall as if trying to hurry Amber out.
The dark print behind the door caught Amber’s attention, and she hesitated, staring at the strange image of half-naked women reaching from green water. An uneasy feeling uncurled in her gut. “I know her.”
“What a small world! Or not so small, really; you must go to the same school. Do you think you’ll see her today?”
“Yes, probably.” Amber stepped outside and her aunt flicked off the lights and closed the door.
“Really? That’s great.” She locked up and dropped the keys back in her handbag. “You wouldn’t mind taking her that copy, would you?”
Amber looked at the booklet she still held. “I don’t mind at all. And you know what? I think I will have time to visit Grandad with you after all.”
Auntie Maureen beamed.
