Page 13 - The Mermaid Call

people have been visiting to get that mermaid shot like the Loch Ness monster or Bigfoot or the
Abominable Snowman.
I noticed the bunting had been strung up since this morning between the cast iron lampposts along the lakefront’s wide promenade, all ready for the Mermaid Festival at the end of summer. That Mum had to stay for! You see, if my mum got wings, I got fins. My insides tickled. Finally, this year Mum might be here to see me compete in the Mermaid Festival lake swim. Maybe even see me win it! Extra whizz-pop-bang. Okay, so it wasn’t the Mermaid Crown, that Mum won when she was my age. But – I chewed on my lip – I could prove to her I was good at something. That I was really worth visiting. I would step up to the podium to receive the trophy and Mum would be bouncing up and down and clapping the hardest of anyone. “My brilliant daughter!” she’d say.
I sped up, on past Atlantis Arcades and its flashing mermaid lights and piped music. Before the lake curves back up towards the mountains, it’s there – Enchanted Tails. I had to hurry and change in case Mum was (miraculously) early. I planned on wearing the dungaree dress and stripy top Mimi got me last Christmas. My stomach twisted: was it grown-up enough for Mum? Maybe my jeans, with the pumps that made my feet look less Hobbit-like? I’d already decided to put my hair up (last time Mum made a comment about it being too bushy. . .and bothersome). I could put on my lip balm that tastes of strawberry and makes my mouth shine; maybe even sneak a spray of Mimi’s fake-Chanel (Mum complained last visit that I always stink of chlorine).
It’s fair to say, my stomach was now whizz-bang-popping like the Mermaid Festival fireworks. I didn’t know how I was going to keep calm till she arrived! Mimi was in the shop window prettifying our latest display: a glass bottle that the Mermaid Girls buried as a time capsule exactly 100 years ago. It got dug up last weekend with the headline in the local paper: ‘Final Mermaid Girls’ ‘secret’ to be revealed at the Mermaid Festival!’. Everyone’s hoping it’ll bring the tourists flocking, whatever the weather. Ker-ching.
I drew up to the glass, squashing my nose against it and raising monster claws to make Mimi laugh. Mimi has the same glossy brown hair as Mum, though she never bothers with make- up or fancy clothes; her usual rope plait, tattered, green lace-up boots.