Get your own Free Home Page'I don't care what you say, I shall never like living here.' Kim sat down hard into her chair, making it skid back and bang into the wall.
'You are determined not to like it, just to spite me. And don't bash any more holes into the wall. I shall have to pay to have them mended. This isn't our house, and there's no-one to fix things any more.' Mrs Naylor, Kim's Mum turned and stomped into the kitchen. Kim recognised the signs. Mum was about to have another crying session and as usual, was trying not to let her daughter see how upset she was feeling. If she didn't try to hide it, everything would be much easier, Kim was certain.
She did feel a bit guilty. She couldn't help blowing her top every now and again. She knew it wasn't really her Mum's fault that they had moved to Cornwall but that didn't stop her from being angry at leaving all her friends and her school near Milton Keynes. Most people thought she sounded very lucky to be moving to Cornwall. Holidays were one thing: living here was quite a different matter. She missed the shops and being able to visit her friends, who lived only a few doors down the road. Now, here they were, on top of a cliff in a tiny cottage and the nearest neighbours were half a mile away, down a cart-track. Some chance of Mum letting her go visiting on her own. Not that she fancied walking half a mile in the dark, not if she was honest.
The phone rang.
'I'll get it,' Kim called. She could hear the tell-tale sniffs from the kitchen.
'Hallo? Kim speaking.'
'Hi Kimmy. How are you?' said a familiar voice.
'Dad?' she answered in surprise. 'How do you know our number?'
'Of course I know it. Do you think I'd let my best girl go all the way to Cornwall and not know her phone number? No chance. So how is my best girl?' Dad's voice seemed just a bit too cheerful and somehow, as if he was talking to a stranger. It was a bit like when he'd made business calls and put on a different voice, not like her dad at all.
'If I am your best girl, why did you have to leave us?' One good thing about being almost ten, you could say what you liked, more or less.
'Oh Kimmy... Your Mum and I decided that it would be better for you to stay with her. I am always too busy working and have to go away for days at a time, for my work. That's no life for a beautiful nine year old girl.'
'Almost ten actually,' she corrected.
'Sorry, honey.' Kim grimaced. One worse than being called Kimmy, she hated to be called honey.
'Do you want to speak to Mum?' she asked.
'It's OK. Just tell her I called to wish you both good luck in your new home and hoped the move went well.'
What did he care, she wondered?
'The house is pretty crap. Dead poky and very cold. We haven't even got central heating and there's no gas.' Kim was determined that he shouldn't get away scot-free, after ruining her life and her mother's too.
'You'll love it, once you settle. I always loved Cornwall and so did you, when you were a little girl.' Dad was trying hard to be jolly about everything, but it was all his fault and he didn't have to put up with all the changes.
'Look, I have to go. Mum's calling me. Bye.' She put the phone down before he could say any more and went to find her Mum.
'Who was it, darling?' Mum asked.
'Him, of course. Who else knows where we are?'
Mum looked sad and reminded her about her sister, Auntie Em and the boy cousins, who now lived only a few miles away and who they would be able to visit and hopefully, become friends. Kim was not impressed.
'I don't want a new school or new friends. I want the old ones. Oh never mind. What does it matter what I think? All right if I watch television now?'
Most of the next day was spent trying to make some sort of order in the house. All their clothes had been packed in black dustbin sacks for the move and most things needed ironing before they could be worn again. After lunch, Mum decided she might as well do it all before putting the clothes away and she could watch some film on TV, while she worked. Kim preferred to go out and explore.
'Don't go too far and don't be late for tea. Have you got your watch on?'
'Course. I'll go and see what's down the track. There must be a farm or something. Perhaps there will be some new lambs?' Kim was trying hard to be cheerful if only for Mum's sake. She knew she was going to hate the place anyway, so she had to pretend.
The track was muddy and Kim already wished she'd put her wellies on. Too late, she stepped into a patch of mud and her trainer was sucked right off her foot. She over-balanced and sat down hard, adding a coating of the slimy goo to her second best jeans. Grumpily, she pulled her shoe back on, squidge and all and plodded on along the track. The wide tyre marks must mean a tractor used the lane and that must mean there might be a farm nearby. She peered into the hedges, looking for birds' nests or anything else that might compensate for the lack of shops and friends. Milton Keynes had lots of country bits around, with loads of places to walk. Most of the walks there, were along proper built paths, where you didn't have to fight with the mud, just to keep in touch with your own shoes.
She heard a noise, a rustling sound followed by a hooting, supposedly, an owl. Even townies like her knew that owls didn't hoot during the day. Then a hissing started, this time supposed to be a snake, she guessed.
'Who's there?' she called softly, in case it wasn't really anyone at all. 'Who's there? Come out and show yourself if you dare,' she called out, this time just a tad louder.
'The spirit of the hedgerows sends you greetings and asks you to identify yourself,' came weird sounding voice. It was obviously some local yob trying to frighten her.
'I can't be bothered to talk to someone who can't be bothered to show their face,' she said snootily, hoping she sounded quite old and not a bit scared. She walked on, her ponytail swinging out behind her in a fairly jaunty way.
'The spirit of the hedgerows demands that you give your name and state your business here,' the voice went on.
Kim was getting annoyed. Whoever it was, he was, he must be an utter idiot to think she was going to talk to bushes. There was no sign of humans anywhere, nor any spirits of hedgerows, whatever they were. She couldn't see the sea any more, but as she was going inland, away from the cliffs, it wasn't very likely she should see it.
Peering through the hedge, she caught a glimpse of a tiny cottage, at the edge of a little copse of trees. There was smoke coming out of the chimney, so someone must be at home. As she was covered in mud and beginning to feel a bit chilly, she decided not to investigate it today. Kim suddenly thought of a cup of hot chocolate and the thought was too good to resist. She turned back the way she had come and walked a little faster. A few seconds later, she nearly jumped out of her shoes, when a figure dropped out of a tree, right in front of her. Her heart made its way up to her throat and began battering at her tonsils. Her knees began to wobble and she felt very scared.
Kim stared at the figure in front of her. It didn't actually look quite as frightening as she had first thought.
'Do you have to do that?' she asked, quickly gaining control of herself and the situation.
'I'm Davie. What's your name?' asked the red-haired apparition. He was about the same height as Kim, about up to an average mum's shoulders. His mop of red curls bounced around his head, quite out of control. He had the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. She suddenly felt a bit shy.
'I'm Kim, Kim Naylor. We've just moved in to the cottage at the bottom of the lane.'
Davie eyed her, his head on one side. She looked all right and she was very dirty. That meant she was OK in his book. He wasn't sure his Mum would approve of her, but he would give her a chance, even if she did have quite a posh sounding accent. She must be OK really, or his Mum would never have let the cottage to them. He decided not to mention that his Mum owned the cottage, not until he knew her better.
'How old are you?'
'Ten. Well, almost. How old are you?'
'Nearer eleven than ten. You're just a kid aren't you?' His voice sounded funny and Kim felt a bit put out.
'Where are you from?' he asked. 'You don't sound Cornish.' He was almost accusing.
Kim giggled. He said Cornish with a big rolling sound, making the 'r' sound very long.
'I'm from Milton Keynes, where the shops are really worth looking at; the paths aren't covered in mud and boys don't hide up trees, trying to scare people.'
'Sorry about that. Where's Milton Keynes, anyhow?'
'It's not far from London, in Buckinghamshire,' she replied, sounding a bit like a teacher answering an obvious question that someone was stupid enough to ask.
'Oh I see. Up-country. Never been over the Tamar myself. Not worth it when you live in Cornwall. Nowhere else like it in the world.'
'How do you know if you've never been anywhere else?' she asked, rather cleverly, she thought.
But Davie was bored with talking. He was a boy who liked to be doing things and now, he wanted to go down to the beach.
'Got to go now. Things to do. See you!' He turned and ran off down the lane.
'Here, wait for me. I'm going that way, too.' She ran after him and managed to catch up with him a little way before her cottage. 'Wait a mo. Where are you going, Davie? I don't know anyone round here. It might be nice to have a friend.'
The blue eyes stared at her, as if sizing her up.
'I'm going down to the beach to see my boat.'
'Have you really got a boat? All of your own?' If it was true, he was the first boy she had met, who had a boat of his own.
'Yer. My Dad uses it sometimes, but it is really mine. OK. You can come too, if you like, but don't take all day.'
Kim knew she ought to tell her Mum where she was going, but if she did, Davie might not wait for her. She didn't want him to think she was a wimp who couldn't do anything without asking her mum. She ran with him, her one muddy shoe still squelching. It wasn't very comfortable, but just at this moment, having a new friend was much more important.
Down on the beach, there were one or two holiday makers. It was still early for visitors, or Emmets as Davie called them.
'What are Emmets?' she had asked curiously.
'Cornish for ants... we call the holiday makers emmets 'cos they swarm everywhere like ants!'
'But if you didn't have holiday makers, most places round here would have to close down. You shouldn't be rude about visitors.'
Davie stared. 'We aren't rude. It's just a joke and quite a friendly one. I like ants, don't you?'
Kim had never thought much about ants but didn't bother to reply. Davie had run off towards the side of the tiny beach, where a few boats were parked. She went after him, wondering which boat was his. He stopped by a bright yellow rowing boat, not too large but easily big enough for three.
'Do you go out in it on your own?' she asked.
He looked uncomfortable.
'I'm not really supposed to,' he admitted, 'but I do sometimes when there's no-one to go with me. My Mum worries that I might go overboard and end up as fish food.' He pulled a scary face and waved his arms around, wailing. Kim hoped no-one was watching him or thinking she might be with him.
'I might take you out one day,' Davie announced. 'You'll have to wait and see if I feel like it.'
Kim thought he was a big-head and she wasn't sure he would make a good friend after all. She glanced down at her watch. Heavens, she would have to run all the way back if she was going to be in time for tea.
'I'd better go now. It's tea time.'
'I don't have to be in at any special time,' Davie said airily. 'My Mum will get our tea when I do get back. She says I'm impossible.' He sounded quite proud of it. Kim didn't think it sounded very fair on his Mum. In fact, the more she thought about it, she knew he might be too much trouble to have as a friend.
'I like your boat, but I'd better go now,' she said, politely. 'See you around.'
She ran halfway back up the hill to the top of the cliff but had to slow down when she lost her breath. She could see Davie, like an emmet on the beach.
'Hi Mum,' she called as she rushed in the door. Sorry if I'm late.' But Mum was sitting looking pretty miserable, with piles of ironed clothes everywhere and not a crumb of tea in sight.
'Hallo, love,' Mum said. 'Sorry... I just started thinking about our holidays in Cornwall. Must have been all the ironing that reminded me. So, how did you get on?'
'I met someone called Davie but he's really big-headed and rude. He's got a boat of his own, though I didn't really believe it was his very own. He isn't really allowed to go out in it on his own.' She stopped for breath.
'I should think not. This coast is very dangerous, even to the fishermen who know every inch of it. I don't want you going out with him unless you have a grown-up with you. Anyhow, it sounds like you had a good time. Not as bad as you thought?'
Kim shrugged her shoulders. 'All right I s'pose. I'd better change. Fell over in the mud. Sorry.' She went up to her room and listened to the comfortable sounds of tea being got ready. Poor Mum. It must have been just as hard for her to leave, thought Kim and she decided she must try and help more and be good. Mum might get a job and then she would meet some new people. As for Davie, he might be OK, once she had broken him in.
'Blow,' she said to her Mum later. 'I forgot to ask where he lives.'
Mum smiled, relieved that Kim had forgotten her troubles, if only for a little while. Tomorrow, they might go and see their landlord. The wife, Mrs Tressider had seemed very nice when she had come to let them in when they first arrived. She had invited them both to go for a cup of something, once the unpacking was done and they had got straight. Perhaps she would have a child whom Kim could make friends with.
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