Page 11

Amelia woke with a start, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and the memory of the previous night—getting the hotel name wrong and the mess that had followed—came rushing back. She’d only been awake seconds, and she was already embarrassed.

The sound of a door opening and closing snapped her out of her thoughts, followed by the scent of something odd.

Amelia sat up in her nightie, rubbing her eyes. She picked up the fuzzy blanket she’d been given last night and pulled it to her chest.

‘Morning,’ Tara said as she came into the living room, wearing her long black coat.

Amelia was re-shocked to see her face in the morning light. It really was perfect. The sharpness of her cheekbones, the way her jawline was so elegantly chiselled, and those lips—plump and curved like something out of a book of classic art. Amelia found herself thinking of words like ‘divine’ and ‘exquisite,’ which seemed better suited to a lady in a romantic novel. Her eyes were a shade of ice blue that Amelia didn’t know eyes came in. And how was her raven black hair so straight and shiny?

Amelia, with her round peasant’s face and her dull brown eyes, realised she was a little intimidated by Tara’s beauty.

‘I thought you might be hungry,’ Tara said.

Amelia blinked, confused. ‘What time is it?

‘It’s after nine.’

Amelia was shocked. ‘What? You should have woken me!’

Tara dropped a brown bag onto the coffee table with a cheerful smile. ‘Seemed like you needed the sleep. And I thought, what better way to start the day than with a good breakfast? Mainland style.’ She opened one of the bags, revealing a pile of wrapped items and containers, steam rising from them.

Amelia’s brow furrowed as she peered at the bags. The smell was strong, and her stomach growled in response.

Tara grinned at her hesitation. ‘I take it you’ve never had a McDonald’s breakfast?’ she asked, pulling out a round, shiny sandwich.

She handed the sandwich to Amelia, who eyed it suspiciously. It was a squashed bun with a bright yellow layer peeking out from the edges.

Amelia picked it up carefully, holding it like a fragile object, unsure what to do with it. She hesitated, looking over at Tara, who was already unwrapping her own breakfast with a casual ease.

‘You know, I’ve read about this place,’ Amelia said, unsure how to start. ‘But I didn’t think it was like... this. It’s just... food, in boxes.’

Tara chuckled, biting into her sandwich. ‘Yeah, it’s fast food. I can’t say it’s good for you, but it’s convenient.’

Amelia took a deep breath and then, carefully, took a bite of the sandwich. The warm egg and sausage inside were soft, the flavours unfamiliar but not unpleasant. The bread was a bit soggy. She chewed slowly.

‘It’s... not bad,’ she admitted, taking another small bite. ‘I can see how people take to it.’

Tara raised an eyebrow. ‘That doesn’t sound like you’re enjoying it.’

Amelia smiled a little, shrugging as she chewed thoughtfully. ‘I’m still deciding.’ The grease lingered on her tongue, and though the food was filling, her stomach felt a little funny. ‘Thank you for breakfast,’ she said, remembering her manners. ‘I’ve never had anything like this before. It’s... interesting.’

‘We’ve got to ease you into modern life somehow.’ Tara took another bite of her sandwich, watching Amelia. ‘So, what’s it like on the island?’ Tara asked lightly, breaking through her thoughts. ‘You know, I’ve heard that Solhaven’s got this... unusual way of life. It sounds pretty isolated.’

Amelia noticed Tara’s casual tone, but she felt it wasn’t all that sincere. There was a carefulness there, a curiosity in the way she watched her. Tara had asked questions about Solhaven the night before, about the island and how things worked. Why was she so interested?

Amelia’s eyes narrowed slightly, the walls of caution rising. She didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want to reveal too much, either. She offered a small shrug.

‘It’s... isolated, yes. It’s peaceful. We don’t get visitors. Well, there’s the ship captain, of course. He brings us supplies and takes the seaweed we grow to a buyer on the mainland. That’s how we manage to get the things we can’t make ourselves.’

Tara leaned forward slightly, her interest piqued. ‘Seaweed?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Is that valuable?’ she asked, surprised.

‘The kind we grow is. It grows fast too. We harvest about thirty pounds a month.’

‘What kind is it?’ Tara asked, still amazed.

‘It’s a Red Algae. It’s called Dulse.’

Tara took out a small, thin device with that apple thing on it and stared at it. After a moment, she said, ‘Sounds like it’s big in wellness.’

‘How did you find that out?’

Tara turned the device to Amelia to show her a glowing screen with writing on it. ‘This is a smartphone. Just like my laptop, but you can keep it in your pocket.’

Amelia shook her head, unable to comprehend it. But she was getting used to feeling confused.

‘So, who do you sell it to? The Dulse?’ Tara asked, putting the phone away.

‘I don’t know the name of the person,’ Amelia said.

‘No, the business,’ Tara said.

Amelia shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You farm this stuff, and you don’t know what happens to it?’

‘Why would I need to?’ Amelia asked. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘You’re not curious?’

‘Do you know the name of the person who made your breakfast this morning?’ Amelia asked, an eyebrow raised.

‘Yes. McDonald's,’ Tara said with a shrug.

‘No, the person. The cook. I assume there is one?’

‘Yes, but they’re in the back. You don’t see them,’ Tara said dismissively.

‘What was their name?’ Amelia asked.

‘I just said I never saw them,’ Tara told her.

‘Who did you see?’

‘The person I paid. At the counter,’ Tara said, slightly irritated now.

‘OK, well, did you ask them who the cook was?’ Amelia asked pointedly.

Tara laughed. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because that would have slowed things down, aside from anything else. It would be contrary to the spirit of McDonald's.’

‘That’s why you didn’t ask?’ Amelia pressed. ‘Because you didn’t want to slow anyone down?’

‘Not really,’ Tara admitted. ‘I guess I didn’t really care.’

‘That person made food that you ate. And you didn’t care who they were?’ Amelia asked, glad to have Tara in a tight corner for a change.

‘We’re getting off-topic,’ Tara said with a tired sigh.

‘I don’t agree. You have questions about Solhaven. Well, I have questions about my breakfast.’ Amelia told her.

Tara paused. ‘OK, let’s just calm down a bit. You seem angry.’

‘I’m not angry,’ Amelia said angrily.

‘You don’t like the questions. I get it,’ Tara said quickly.

‘I don’t like the judgment,’ Amelia told her.

Tara paused. ‘OK. Sorry. You’re right. I was being judgmental. I’m just… interested. In Solhaven.’

‘Why?’ Amelia asked her.

‘Because nobody really knows that much about it,’ Tara said. It sounded sincere enough.

‘And you’re curious about the crazy yokels living without all your modern things?’ Amelia asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tara laughed a tad nervously. ‘I’m rethinking that.’

‘Why is that?’

‘Well, for one, the seaweed. It sounds like a pretty modern business,’ Tara explained.

Amelia shrugged. ‘If you say so.’

Tara nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. ‘What do you get in return? Do you use cash?’

Amelia felt the shift in the conversation, the way Tara was probing again. ‘No,’ Amelia replied, her voice careful. ‘We can’t make everything on Solhaven. So we have a list of what’s needed. We get those things in exchange for the Dulse.’

‘What things?’

‘Medicine. Books. Anything else we might need.’

‘So you use modern medicine?’ Tara asked.

‘Yes.’

‘And you read modern books?’

‘I told you that I read,’ Amelia reminded her.

‘What kind of books?’ Tara asked.

‘Mostly educational. Sometimes fiction. The Elders check everything in case it's inappropriate,’ Amelia told her.

‘I can’t imagine Ulysses was considered appropriate,’ Tara noted.

Amelia smiled. ‘No.’

‘In fact, a lot of the stuff you seem to know… I’d be surprised if your Elders would like people reading about mainland life,’ Tara asked thoughtfully.

‘And why is that?’ Amelia asked.

‘Because it might make you want to leave,’ she said casually.

‘That’s an interesting assumption,’ Amelia said, her back straightening.

Tara cleared her throat. ‘I’m not… I was just trying to find out how you’d read so much about the modern world.’

Amelia smiled shyly. ‘I mean, the books that are weeded out are stored in the Long Hall for a while before we burn them and, well...’

Tara gaped. ‘And you steal them?’

‘I borrow them,’ Amelia said quickly, her cheeks feeling a little bit hot.

Tara laughed, delighted. ‘Wow. You’re a rebel,’ Tara said with admiration.

Amelia didn’t like that word. ‘I’m not a rebel. I follow the rules for the most part. But it’s not easy. It takes a lot of work farming the seaweed.’ She sighed. ‘Sometimes you need…’

‘…a break from reality?’ Tara completed, nodding.

Amelia smiled, surprised. ‘Well, yes.’

‘Yeah, us mainlanders know a thing or two about that,’ Tara told her with a warm smile. Tara leaned back, her smile still in place but her gaze sharp. ‘What would happen if they found out about the books?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she said with a slight smile, hoping to deflect. She was tired of these questions.

She took a bite of her sandwich. It was better than before. Familiarity was coming quickly, it seemed. Amelia remembered something as she chewed.

‘What’s the second thing?’ she asked.

Tara had just taken a bite of her sandwich, and she looked up in surprise. ‘What?’ she mumbled through food.

‘You said you were rethinking us being backwards, and you said, firstly, it was our seaweed farm. So what’s the second thing?’

Tara swallowed her food. ‘Oh. You.’

Amelia paused. ‘Me?’

‘Yeah.’ She smiled slowly. ‘You’re sharp.’

Amelia’s heart fluttered unexpectedly at the compliment, a strange warmth spreading through her chest. She didn’t quite understand the sensation. It made her uncomfortable.

‘Sharp?’ Amelia repeated.

Tara shrugged, her expression casual but her eyes unreadable. ‘You’ve got this quiet way of being... aware. Of everything.’

Amelia’s mind raced, not quite sure how to respond. The flutter hadn’t faded. She shifted in her seat, trying to distract herself by taking another bite of the sandwich. Amelia couldn’t help but feel a small knot form in her stomach at Tara’s words. No one on Solhaven said things like this about her. They said things like, ‘Clown,’ and, ‘Buffoon,’ and, ‘Amelia, get out! I’ve got crockery in this room.’

‘I’m not... I don’t know what you mean,’ Amelia muttered, looking down at her sandwich.

Tara shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘I just find it interesting. That’s all.’

The flutter in Amelia’s chest didn’t quite go away, but she pushed it aside. ‘I’m not interesting,’ she said quickly, trying to laugh it off. But it came out sounding a little too forced.

Tara smiled again, this time with a hint of amusement. And Amelia’s heart skipped again, though she wasn’t sure why.

‘I need to get dressed!’ Amelia announced too loudly. ‘I can’t be sitting around like this in my night things.’

Tara looked slightly surprised by the volume. ‘Oh yeah. Of course.’ She pointed. ‘Bathroom’s that way.’

Amelia jumped up, grabbed her bag, and ran into a room that almost made sense.