The Mermaid's Revenge Page 17

  “I almost died, hunting that beast,” he continues, staring at the lion with a faint smile, as if he's remembering something wonderful. “I should have died. I won't show you the scars, Sylvia, but the entire left side of my torso was gouged by the claws on that lion's front left paw. There was so much blood. It was a miracle that one of the other hunters heard my cries and came running, scaring the creature away. I was in agony, but I still had the presence of mind to aim my gun and fire. I dropped that lion, and I looked into its eyes as it died. And in that moment, I'm sure I saw respect.”

  “I didn't hear anything about a storm coming earlier,” Mr. Randall mutters darkly. “The weather for this part of the French coast was supposed to be clear.”

  “Your helicopter is on its way,” Mr. Flemyng replies, before turning to me again just as there's another rumble of thunder outside. “You're not scared, Sylvia, are you?” he asks. “We all have to vanquish fear at some point. There are people who waste their lives living in terror. You mustn't be like them.”

  I don't know exactly what he means.

  “Imagine what it's like,” he adds. “Imagine reaching the end of your life and realizing you wasted it by cowering the whole way through. Imagine seeing the light ahead, knowing it's time for you to pass on, and feeling nothing but regret.”

  “That's a little deep for her,” Mr. Randall says calmly. “She's barely ten.”

  “Have you ever wanted something, Sylvia,” Mr. Flemyng continues, “and been so close to getting it, only to have it snatched away? And have you had that happen so many times that you begin to lose all your fear? And then, finally, you realize that you're on the verge of getting it, and you don't even know how to think anymore?” He pauses, before leaning closer to me. “I've waited so long for this night. Now that it's here, I'm so glad I can share it with you.”

  ***

  “I'm leaving now,” Mr. Randall tells me, standing in the doorway of the room where I woke up earlier. “I wasn't sure whether to come and say goodbye, but -”

  Before he can finish, there's another distant rumble of thunder.

  “Well, I thought maybe I should,” he continues. “After all, I was your mother's assistant since before you were born. I remember her pregnancy, and I remember her bringing you home. I helped raise you, Sylvia. I'd like to think that we were...”

  His voice trails off, and for a moment he seems uncomfortable.

  “So before I leave,” he adds finally, “I just wanted to tell you that I never intended to cheat your mother in any way. I was her loyal servant until the moment she died. It was only then that I realized I had an opportunity, and by God I seized that opportunity with both hands. It has been an honor and a privilege to serve your family.”

  “Where am I going to go?” I ask.

  “You're going to stay here.”

  “I don't want to stay here,” I tell him, with tears in my eyes. “I want to go home.”

  “You don't have a home anymore,” he replies. “That apartment will be nothing now except an empty shell. Your mother spent almost all her money on that pet project with the mermaid, so she was drowning in debt by the time she died. If you go back, all you'll inherit will be huge numbers with minus symbols in front of them. There's nothing for you, and no family. It was never my intention to bring you here, but now that you are here, Mr. Flemyng has very kindly consented to look after you. You'll be fine.”

  “I can't stay here!” I reply. “Please, you can't leave me here! You have to take me home!”

  “And who would look after you?”

  I open my mouth to answer him, but then I realize I don't know what to say. I have no grandparents, no aunts or uncles, no relatives at all. Mother had no friends, and neither did I. I only had Mr. Randall and Ms. Harper.

  Outside, thunder rumbles again.

  “It was an honor knowing your mother,” Mr. Randall says, coming over and holding his hand out toward me. “We won't see one another again, Sylvia, but I hope you know that I'll never forget either of you. When I'm back in London, I'll tidy up your mother's affairs and ensure that her debt dies with her. That's the only thing I can do for you, and it's an absolute promise. Meanwhile you'll be here on Mr. Flemyng's private island and I'm sure he already has a plan for your education and continued growth. One day you'll look back on all of this and you'll be thankful.”

  “You're selling me,” I whisper.

  “The mermaid -”

  “You're selling her,” I continue, feeling a growing sense of anger, “and you're selling me too.”

  “It's not quite like that.”

  “Why does he want me?”

  “He didn't want you,” he explains. “When I mentioned your existence, he was shocked. It was only later that he said I should bring you, and that you could stay here. I'm very grateful to him. I was wondering what to do with you.”

  “I don't want to be here!”

  “You turned ten a few days ago,” he replies. “Don't take this the wrong way, Sylvia, but I don't think you really have much say in anything. You're still a child.”

  “What if I refuse to stay?”

  “You can try to swim to shore, but somehow I doubt you'll make it the full thirty miles to the nearest coast.”

  “Can't you take me with you?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “It's complicated.”

  There are more tears in my eyes now. I hate Mr. Randall, but at the same time I'm scared to be without him.

  “You can't leave me here!” I tell him, trying to hide the fact that I'm panicking. “I don't know Mr. Flemyng at all! I don't like him!”

  “He seems very nice,” he replies. “I don't know him either, but he has a great deal of money and he seems kind. Plus, you'll get to spend more time with the mermaid, and that'll be fun. You're really very lucky, Sylvia. If you think about it, the mermaid is your only friend from the time when your mother was alive. Maybe you can get to know her a little better. Maybe you can even become proper friends. After all, it's far from established that she's mute. If Mr. Flemyng is willing to let you try, and if you're really careful, you might be able to see if you can talk to her. Would you like that? After all, she's the closest thing you've got to a friend now.”

  Staring at him, I realize he's serious.

  He checks his watch.

  “And now it's time for me to be going,” he continues. “Believe me, Sylvia, I've got a lot of work to do when I get back to London. There are going to be plenty of questions about your mother's death, not to mention your disappearance, but I've got a decent cover story all worked out. The whole process might be a little stressful, but that's hardly the worst thing in the world. I promise I'll do the right thing on your mother's behalf.”

  He checks his watch again, before turning and walking out of the room, swinging the briefcase as he goes.

  “Goodbye, Sylvia,” he calls back to me. “Have fun here!”

  “Were you telling the truth when you said I'm sick?” I ask.

  He stops, and he half turns to look at me, but he seems cautious.

  “I can't do anything else to help you,” he says finally. “I've really done far more than could ever have been expected.”

  “But -”

  “Besides, Mr. Flemyng was very keen for you to stay. He's promised me that he'll look after you.”

  “I don't know him!”

  “You'll have plenty of time to change that,” he adds, before turning and walking away.

  “Come back!” I shout, just as I start to hear rain being blown against the window. “Please come back! Don't leave me here!”

  I wait, but his footsteps disappear into the distance. For a moment I feel like I'm about to break down and start sobbing, but then I feel a rush of anger in my chest. It's the same kind of anger I used to feel back at home, the kind of anger that I was never able to control. Finally, unable to stop myself, I clamber off the bed and race out of the room, hurrying after Mr
. Randall. All I can think is that I have to find some way to make him take me away from here. I've lost Mother and Ms. Harper in the past week. I can't lose the last person in the whole world who I actually know.

  “Mr. Randall!” I shout, racing into the dining room, only to find that there's no-one here.

  I look around, and a moment later I see bright lights flashing beyond the far windows. Hurrying over, I'm horrified to see that a helicopter is waiting out on the helipad, and Mr. Randall is climbing inside. Filled with a sense of panic, I try to find a door, but I can't figure out how to get outside.

  “Mr. Randall!” I yell, banging on the windows as the helicopter's door slides shut. “Come back!”

  I run all the way along the room, and finally I find a door. Pushing it open, I emerge on the helipad and immediately get blown back against the wall as the helicopter starts to rise. Rain is being whipped up all around, and I have to shield my eyes as I watch the helicopter's lights get higher and higher into the stormy sky.

  “Mr. Randall!” I scream. “Stop!”

  There's no point.

  He can't hear me now.

  I briefly spot the side of his face as the helicopter swings out across the house, and then I watch helplessly it flies away across the sea. With tears flowing down my cheeks, I watch in horror as Mr. Randall gets further and further away, and I start to realize that he's not coming back. Apart from Mother, Mr. Randall is the one person I've known all my life, and he just left me here with an old man I've never met before.

  “Don't be too sad,” a voice says, and I turn to see that Mr. Flemyng is watching from the cover of a small sheltered area at the edge of the helipad. After a moment he turns to me. “I had to go to great expense to extract you and the mermaid earlier than I had planned. Mr. Randall very kindly offered you to me as compensation for that unanticipated expenditure.”

  With that, he starts wheeling himself past me, heading back into the house.

  Too shocked to say anything, too shocked to even move, I stand in the pouring rain and watch the storm clouds. I can no longer see the helicopter, and finally I realize that Mr. Randall is definitely not coming back. He's abandoned me, and I'm trapped here on this island forever.

  And then, slowly, I realize I can hear the mermaid's voice whispering at the back of my thoughts:

  “This is your fault,” she tells me. “Now you're going to have to pay, just like all the rest of them.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  One week later

  “Hello!” I yell, standing on the shore and waving frantically at the dot on the horizon. “I'm over here! Help me!”

  My throat hurts so much, I can barely stand to shout at all. I think I can even taste blood. Still, this is only the second ship I've spotted since I arrived at the island, and I'm desperately hoping that I'll be spotted. Mr. Flemyng says all shipping knows to keep away from his island, but I'm still clinging to the possibility that by some miracle I can get out of here.

  “Hello!” I shout again. “I -”

  Suddenly I let out a faint gasp, and I taste blood at the back of my throat. I watch the dot for a moment, and I realize with a sinking sensation that if anything the dot seems to be getting further away. Sure enough, after a couple more minutes, it's gone entirely.

  No-one's coming.

  I'm never going to get out of here.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Another week later

  He's humming again.

  Sitting on the floor in one of the corridors of the house, I listen to the sound of Mr. Flemyng humming as he wheels himself around the dining table. He's been eating dinner, and as usual he called out to me, asking if I'd like to join him. I refused to answer, but over the past few days we've fallen into a kind of routine.

  He offers.

  I don't reply.

  He leaves food on the table for me when he's done, and he leaves the room.

  I go and eat, shoveling the food into my mouth as quickly as possible.

  “I do hope you'll reconsider,” he calls out a moment later, as I wait for him to leave. “There's really no point being this stubborn, Sylvia. While we wait, we might as well converse.”

  I don't say anything.

  I wait, and finally I hear him wheeling himself out of the dining room. I peer around the corner and see that he's gone, and then I race over to the table and sit down, immediately wolfing down the bowl of spaghetti bolognese that he left me.

  This happens three times a day now. I hate taking anything from him, but I need food.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Yet another week later

  It's late. I can hear another storm outside. There have been a lot of storms lately.

  With my hands flat on my belly, I stare up at the dark bedroom ceiling. As well as the storm, I can hear the sound of waves crashing against the island's shore. I like that sound. I need that sound. Especially at night.

  Because night is when she comes.

  I don't know if it's because I'm tired, or if it's because she's stronger, or if it's because of some other thing entirely, but for the last few nights I've been hearing the mermaid's voice in my head. I try to drown her out, and that works to some extent, but I still hear snatches of what she's saying to me. And tonight, like the other nights, she's angry.

  “You don't think you're safe, do you?” she whispers. “When I get to you, I'm going to -”

  Then the waves block her voice for a moment, allowing me a moment of respite before she returns.

  “- after I'm done with him,” she says. “He's a monster, but you? You betrayed me. I thought you were a good person. You were the one I was able to reach out to when I was first a prisoner. I thought you understood.”

  The first couple of nights, I tried to talk back to her. I tried to think back, to defend myself. If she ever heard what I was saying, she gave no indication. She just seems to want to taunt me, night after night, promising revenge. The worst part is, I believe her. All this waiting is making me feel like I'm losing my mind, like I want to scream. I've even considered going to Mr. Flemyng and asking if he can help, but I don't want to ask that man for anything. I suppose I'll just have to wait out the nights and hope that soon I'll find a way off this island.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Another week later

  “Stop!” I shout, dropping to my knees on the beach and putting my hands on the sides of my head. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

  “Soon I'll be with you,” her voice sneers. She sounds angrier than ever. “Not long now.”

  I squeeze my eyes tight shut and try to focus on the sound of the waves. Somehow, up in my room, the mermaid's voice seemed louder than ever tonight. Finally, even though it's gone midnight, I came outside and hurried all the way down to the shoreline, so that maybe the crashing waves might drown the voice out entirely. That's working to some degree, but I still hear snatches of her latest threats.

  After a moment I open my eyes. Light rain is falling, but I don't mind that. I'd even take a thunderstorm right now, if that would drown out the voice. In fact, I think a storm might even be forming right now. Shivering in the cold night air, I stay on my knees and wait for the voice to return, but finally it seems as if she might actually have fallen silent. That would be odd, it'd be much earlier than usual, and after a moment I start to feel worried.

  Why has she stopped?

  What's she doing instead?

  I wait on the shore, too scared to go anywhere else, until the rain gets much stronger and I realize my clothes are soaked. Slowly getting to my feet, I can feel my drenched dress weighing me down, and I'm shivering so badly that my teeth have started to chatter.

  After a moment, however, I realize that my right shoulder seems to be burning. I peel the top of my dress aside, and I'm horrified to see that the skin above my armpit looks dark and discolored. I've felt some discomfort lately, now that Mr. Randall isn't around to give me my ointment, but I managed to ignore my fears. Now that my dress is
clinging to the skin, however, I can feel a stinging pain, and I stare for a moment at the damage before settling the fabric back in place.

  Whatever's wrong with me, it's getting worse.

  Turning, I hurry back across the beach, pushing my way through the wind and rain until I reach the steps that lead back up to Mr. Flemyng's house. I hate going up there, but I have no choice, so I start climbing. Each step feels heavier than the last, and a couple of times I have to stop and get my breath back. It takes about ten minutes to reach the top of the cliff, and I'm completely out of breath by the time I stumble past the swimming pool and over toward the observation deck.

  Exhausted, I'm about to go inside when I suddenly see that Mr. Flemyng is in the lounge. He never normally gets up in the middle of the night, but he's wheeling himself over toward the far end of the room. I hesitate, hating the sight of him, but then I realize that I can't just stand here in the rain. If I stay out here much longer, I'll get pneumonia. At least the mermaid's voice is quiet for now. Whatever she's doing, I'm just relieved she's leaving me alone.

  Chapter Forty

  “Nights like this remind me of Africa,” Mr. Flemyng says as I step back into the house's main room. I guess he must have spotted me outside. “That's when I first got into the weather engineering game, you know. Night after night, our little group of happy campers would sit listening to the storms outside, and I realized the bad weather represented the last point of true chaos in the world. Control the weather, and you can control crops, famines... You can end riots, you can reward and punish people in equal measure. It was really a neglected area of study when I began.”

  He pours himself a glass of whiskey. His hands are shaking as he sets the bottle back on the table.

  “I'm glad you finally consented to spend some time with me,” he adds.

  Ignoring him, I start heading toward the door that leads into the corridor that leads to my -