Page 9

Amelia shifted in her seat, aware that she was gripping it a little too tightly. But the speed she was travelling at was terrifying and exhilarating. This was a car—a real, true car. It was a world away from the bumpy cart that rattled its way down Solhaven’s dirt roads. It smelled like leather and the faintest trace of perfume, and it moved so smoothly.

She caught herself, biting down on the excitement. Stop it. Stop being so— Amelia bit her lip, trying to swallow the joy bubbling up at the simple pleasure of being inside something so sleek and effortless. But it was hard not to stare at the dashboard, with its buttons and dials, each one a mystery to her.

Tara probably thought Amelia was a total bumpkin for being so amazed by a car. Tara, with her mainlander attitude and knowing air, seemed like someone who had seen it all. Amelia didn’t want to seem too wide-eyed in her presence, so she forced her gaze to the window and its moving view of buildings and people and more cars. It was almost like she was sitting still, and it was the world that was flying past.

‘We’re here,’ Tara announced, pulling up in front of an extremely dirty-looking building.

‘This is where I’m staying?’ Amelia asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.

She’d expected something as impressive as the buildings she’d already seen in the heart of the city. Tall and gleaming. This place was small and needed a coat of paint. Or three.

‘It’s the name you remembered, but it does seem a little…’ Tara began, looking out of the window.

‘What?’

Tara looked at Amelia. ‘Do you know the expression, “Crack den”?’

Amelia frowned. ‘Is it a spice shop?’

‘I don’t know why I asked,’ Tara said, shaking her head at herself. ‘Let’s go inside and check it out.’

Tara stepped out of the car and headed for the building.

‘Wait!’ Amelia yelled.

Tara turned back. ‘What are you doing? Get out of the car.’

Amelia stared at her through the window. ‘I don’t know how!’

Tara rolled her eyes, walked back to the car, and opened the door for Amelia. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘Should have realised.’

‘That’s OK,’ Amelia said, embarrassed.

She followed Tara toward the hotel. The name she’d remembered—The Meridian Arms—hung precariously on the side of the building, missing an ‘i’.

‘It’s…got character,’ Amelia ventured, trying to find a positive spin.

‘It’s got something,’ Tara replied dryly, leading the way through a squeaky revolving door.

The inside was no better. The lobby smelled faintly of disinfectant, and the carpet was worn threadbare in places. Behind the counter, a man in a sweat-stained shirt leaned back on his stool, staring into space.

‘You sure this is it?’ Tara asked, leaning in close enough for Amelia to catch her faint floral perfume. It didn’t fit this place.

‘Less and less,’ Amelia said.

She glanced at the questionable potted plant in the corner, its leaves drooping as if it had given up on life. She felt a desperate urge to find water for it.

Tara approached the counter. ‘Excuse me, I think my friend here has a reservation,’ she said, her tone polite but clipped.

The man barely glanced up. ‘Name?’

Amelia hesitated. ‘It’s under Mabel Carter, I think.’

The man frowned, flipping through a dog-eared ledger with disinterest. ‘Nope. No Mabel. You sure you got the right place?’

Amelia flushed, her confidence evaporating. ‘I…maybe?’

‘Fantastic,’ Tara muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

‘I could swear it had the word Meridian in it,’ Amelia muttered.

The man gave her a look. ‘There’s the New Meridian across town.’

Tara sighed heavily. ‘Of course.’ She turned to Amelia, one brow arched. ‘Let’s go.’

‘I said maybe,’ Amelia countered, defensive.

Before Tara could reply, a loud voice boomed from the corner. ‘Well, well, well! New faces!’

Both women turned to see an older gentleman in a garish bathrobe raising a glass of something. He grinned widely, his eyes glassy.

‘Welcome to the bottom of the barrel!’ he said, teetering toward them. ‘You gals want a drink?’ He laughed uproariously, sloshing liquid onto the carpet.

‘We’ll pass,’ Tara said, steering Amelia firmly toward the exit.

‘Dave! Watch the beverage!’ the man behind the counter warned him.

‘I’m watching my beverage. The question is, who’s watching me watching my beverage,’ he asked cryptically.

‘For god’s sake,’ Tara muttered, still pulling at Amelia. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

But Amelia wasn’t going anywhere yet. ‘I think this man needs help,’ she told Tara.

‘What? No—’

‘Sir, do you need help?’ Amelia asked the man, stepping towards him.

‘Amelia…’ Tara said, trying to grab her arm again.

‘Actually, yes. Have you seen any strange people outside?’ the man asked Amelia.

‘I’ve seen nothing but strange people,’ she began, intending to explain that she was from Solhaven and, therefore, didn’t have a reliable perspective on what might be considered unusual.

But before she could say anything more, the man turned and vomited on Tara’s shoes.

‘Fuck me!’ Tara exclaimed.

‘Sorry about that,’ the man said, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robe.

‘Dave, I fucking warned you last time! I’ve got a bucket right here, you dickhead,’ the man behind the counter complained.

Amelia looked down at the puddle, examining it. ‘Sir, you need to eat something solid.’

Tara kicked off the lion’s share of the vomit from her shoes and muttered something Amelia didn’t quite hear. She decided that was for the best. Tara’s grip on Amelia’s arm tightened slightly as she half-dragged her toward the door.

‘This is exactly why I said we needed to leave!’ she hissed, her usual composure momentarily cracked.

‘He looked unwell!’ Amelia protested, the smell rising from Tara’s shoes making her eyes water.

Tara shot her a look.

Outside the hotel, Tara marched Amelia toward the car. ‘These shoes are ruined,’ Tara muttered angrily.

‘I’m sorry for taking us to the wrong hotel,’ Amelia said.

‘That’s not what’s pissing me off,’ Tara said.

‘That means angry, doesn’t it?’ Amelia checked.

‘Yes. It does. Do you have a dictionary of swearwords on Solhaven?’ Tara asked.

‘Actually, we sort of do. There was this one book my friend Deirdre had, Ulysses, and it had quite a lot of words in it that were interesting to learn. “Piss” was on the list. Also, “bloody,” “bitch,” and “bastard.” Of course, eventually, the book was confiscated, but Deirdre kept a list, and one time when we were twelve, she stood up in church and recited the entire list—’

‘Amelia, I wasn’t actually asking… Do you know the concept of sarcasm, perchance?’ Tara asked irritably.

Amelia tilted her head. ‘Oh, I know sarcasm. It’s like this. “You definitely don’t smell of vomit.”’

Tara gave her a flat look, though the corner of her mouth perked up. ‘Great. Solhaven’s only comedian.’

She slammed the car door shut after Amelia climbed in, making her jump slightly. Tara slid in the other side and started the engine.

‘I’m sorry about the man. He just really seemed like he might need assistance,’ Amelia tried.

‘He needed about a decade of therapy and an industrial strength cleaning service,’ Tara replied.

‘What?’

‘He’s an alcoholic, Amelia. You don’t have those on Solhaven?’ Tara asked.

‘Umm…’

‘Addicted to alcohol,’ Tara clarified.

Amelia blinked. ‘We don’t have that.’

‘Addicts?’

‘Alcohol,’ Amelia said.

‘Oh. Well. You get what it is, though?’ Tara checked.

‘Yes. My mother says it puts people in a nice mood while it poisons them to death.’

Tara was surprised into a laugh. ‘I can’t argue with your mother.’

‘No one ever does,’ Amelia muttered. Amelia glanced down at Tara’s shoes. ‘You didn’t need to throw those away. I’m sure I could clean them.’

Tara shook her head. ‘Not worth it,’ she said as she pulled on the gear stick. ‘I’d rather chuck them away.’

Amelia was more shocked at that than the vomiting man.

For a moment, the only sound was the gentle hum of the engine as Tara pulled back onto the road. Then, against her better judgment, Amelia started to laugh. It bubbled up uncontrollably, spilling out in quiet snorts at first before growing louder.

Tara shot her a sidelong glance. ‘What’s tickling you?’

‘Nothing,’ Amelia wheezed, clutching her stomach. ‘Everything. I don’t know!’ Tears of laughter streamed down her cheeks, and she tried to stifle them with her sleeve.

Tara turned back to the road. ‘You’re delirious.’

‘I think I’m just overtired,’ Amelia admitted, hiccupping through her laughter.

Tara shook her head, a reluctant smile breaking through. ‘Well, let’s hope the New Meridian lives up to its name.’

‘You’re taking me there?’ Amelia asked. She sort of thought she might have worn out her welcome with Tara by now.

‘What else can I do?’ Tara said.

They drove in silence for a while until Tara broke it. ‘What happened to Deirdre, by the way?’ she asked.

Amelia was surprised that Tara had been paying attention to her story. ‘Sorry?’

‘When she said the swear words in church?’

‘Oh. Umm, I’m not sure. I remember she didn’t come to church or school for a while,’ Tara told her.

‘And then she came back… different?’ Tara asked.

Amelia span to look at Tara. ‘What?’

‘I mean, did she come back a little… You know…’ Tara trailed off.

‘I don’t,’ Amelia replied, baffled.

Tara sighed. ‘Forget it.’

‘I don’t even know what I’m supposed to forget,’ Amelia said.