he panted. “I want to ask – just a few – questions!”
Whimpering like a trapped animal Aquella stared up at him, terrified. But this strange boy, she sensed, seemed equally unsure of her. His eyes, she saw, had fallen to her bare feet. She tried to wriggle her webbed toes down into the sand.
“Too late,” he gasped. “My God! That’s not normal. You’re one of them fish girls, aren’t you?”
“I’m a land girl,” Aquella blurted out. “I’m normal.” She flashed a look out to sea. Lorelie had gone.
“Oh yeah,” Billy said, “and I’m a pig flying in the air. Who you kidding? Nobody goes round calling themselves a ‘land girl’. Come on, spill the beans. You’re alien, ain’t you?” He looked at her face sideways, as though he was afraid she might put a spell on him.
Aquella shook her head fiercely. Her black hair swung round, strands of it flicking the stranger’s face. Her eyes blazed.
Billy whipped out his notebook. He’d caught up with one, he was sure of that. He’d only been in Scotland two days and here he was face to face with an alien. Fame and fortune would soon be his. “So tell me, fish girl, where was you born?”
“Here,” Aquella said, taking a small step backwards.
“What? On the beach?” He clicked his pen then sniffed, as though smelling her. “Or in the sea? You was, wasn’t ya? Fish girl! Ha!” Billy fumbled in his pocket, whipped out his camera and pointed it at Aquella.
Then he shuddered. Through the camera lens he saw how clear her sea-green eyes shone, how small and animal-like her nose was, how not-quite-human her face seemed.
Aquella glared at the camera and bared her teeth. Spying the sharp flash of her teeth Billy Mole gulped. With trembling hands he clicked the switch.
“Right, that’s that,” he said, though some of his swaggering confidence had gone, “yeah, right then. So that’ll be splashed all over London.” He glanced at her and took a step back. “You should be happy. You’re gonna be famous!” He grinned.
Aquella scowled at him, which quickly wiped the grin from Billy Mole’s face. “R-right then… um…” He levelled the camera at the ground. With a snap he took a photo of her feet. “Them’s gonna be all over London an all. So – um – fish girl…”
But words had suddenly failed Billy Mole.
Aquella’s bright green eyes pierced into his own. She felt a surge of anger shoot through her. Lorelie had said the land wasn’t safe. Why wasn’t it safe? Because people like this boy had come snooping around. She wanted to turn and flee, but knew she couldn’t outrun him.
With shaking fingers Billy Mole opened his notebook, pulled the plastic top off his biro pen, cleared his throat, then said, “So, um… anyway. On with the interview. You ready?”
Aquella continued to glare at him. She took a step back, and another.
“So, right then, tell the world what’s it like being a fish.”
Suddenly Aquella heard a high-pitched whirring noise zip through the air above her; the kind you hear when a fisherman casts his line. Aquella looked up.
“What the heck’s that?” she heard the teenager cry out.
The whirr turned to a hiss. He yelled out. He fell to the ground.
Aquella gasped and stumbled back. The scary teenager was lying in front of her, face down in the sand, wriggling from side to side and yelling, with what looked like a fishing line wrapped around his ankles.
Quick. Behind the gorse bush. Hurry.
Aquella glanced up at the large gorse bush that grew by the beach path. Astounded, she saw the yellow bush shake. With pounding heart and aching legs she fled to the shaking bush. As soon as she was there she dived into the gap Fin had made.
I can’t – believe – you actually did – that . Even in selkie-speech she sounded exhausted.
Lucky for you Dad’s teaching me how to cast a fishing line. Fin grinned and with a sharp stone cut the line. Shame is, I’ve lost Dad’s best weight. Fin picked up the
Whimpering like a trapped animal Aquella stared up at him, terrified. But this strange boy, she sensed, seemed equally unsure of her. His eyes, she saw, had fallen to her bare feet. She tried to wriggle her webbed toes down into the sand.
“Too late,” he gasped. “My God! That’s not normal. You’re one of them fish girls, aren’t you?”
“I’m a land girl,” Aquella blurted out. “I’m normal.” She flashed a look out to sea. Lorelie had gone.
“Oh yeah,” Billy said, “and I’m a pig flying in the air. Who you kidding? Nobody goes round calling themselves a ‘land girl’. Come on, spill the beans. You’re alien, ain’t you?” He looked at her face sideways, as though he was afraid she might put a spell on him.
Aquella shook her head fiercely. Her black hair swung round, strands of it flicking the stranger’s face. Her eyes blazed.
Billy whipped out his notebook. He’d caught up with one, he was sure of that. He’d only been in Scotland two days and here he was face to face with an alien. Fame and fortune would soon be his. “So tell me, fish girl, where was you born?”
“Here,” Aquella said, taking a small step backwards.
“What? On the beach?” He clicked his pen then sniffed, as though smelling her. “Or in the sea? You was, wasn’t ya? Fish girl! Ha!” Billy fumbled in his pocket, whipped out his camera and pointed it at Aquella.
Then he shuddered. Through the camera lens he saw how clear her sea-green eyes shone, how small and animal-like her nose was, how not-quite-human her face seemed.
Aquella glared at the camera and bared her teeth. Spying the sharp flash of her teeth Billy Mole gulped. With trembling hands he clicked the switch.
“Right, that’s that,” he said, though some of his swaggering confidence had gone, “yeah, right then. So that’ll be splashed all over London.” He glanced at her and took a step back. “You should be happy. You’re gonna be famous!” He grinned.
Aquella scowled at him, which quickly wiped the grin from Billy Mole’s face. “R-right then… um…” He levelled the camera at the ground. With a snap he took a photo of her feet. “Them’s gonna be all over London an all. So – um – fish girl…”
But words had suddenly failed Billy Mole.
Aquella’s bright green eyes pierced into his own. She felt a surge of anger shoot through her. Lorelie had said the land wasn’t safe. Why wasn’t it safe? Because people like this boy had come snooping around. She wanted to turn and flee, but knew she couldn’t outrun him.
With shaking fingers Billy Mole opened his notebook, pulled the plastic top off his biro pen, cleared his throat, then said, “So, um… anyway. On with the interview. You ready?”
Aquella continued to glare at him. She took a step back, and another.
“So, right then, tell the world what’s it like being a fish.”
Suddenly Aquella heard a high-pitched whirring noise zip through the air above her; the kind you hear when a fisherman casts his line. Aquella looked up.
“What the heck’s that?” she heard the teenager cry out.
The whirr turned to a hiss. He yelled out. He fell to the ground.
Aquella gasped and stumbled back. The scary teenager was lying in front of her, face down in the sand, wriggling from side to side and yelling, with what looked like a fishing line wrapped around his ankles.
Quick. Behind the gorse bush. Hurry.
Aquella glanced up at the large gorse bush that grew by the beach path. Astounded, she saw the yellow bush shake. With pounding heart and aching legs she fled to the shaking bush. As soon as she was there she dived into the gap Fin had made.
I can’t – believe – you actually did – that . Even in selkie-speech she sounded exhausted.
Lucky for you Dad’s teaching me how to cast a fishing line. Fin grinned and with a sharp stone cut the line. Shame is, I’ve lost Dad’s best weight. Fin picked up the
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