Page 17 - The Mermaid Call

reshape it like putty so it wouldn’t hurt so much. But now, it was swelling, past the (still humongous) lump of disappointment in my throat, expanding big and sticky as candyfloss on a stick: Would Mum want to see me – if I did look more like her?
“Yes!” the mermaids, merrows, selkies, sirens, river nymphs, water sprites, kelpies, nixies and naiads seemed to nod in unison. “Yes, of course she would!”
And I scowled at them and squeezed my eyes shut to stop new tears arriving, right as Tinkerbell announced another customer. I didn’t even bother to look up this time, never mind professional welcome-smile. I punched the soft mermaids again (far too pleased with themselves) and collapsed my head like a block of concrete onto the counter. I was even starting to think that maybe Eleni was right about the Mermaid Crown, it did need stopping, when I heard the soft sound of snivelling. Followed by that donkey-baying noise when you’re trying really hard not to cry. I’d made enough of those last night.
I drew myself up; quietly along the counter. Peering round the middle shelves – there was a sunshine-coloured head crouched besides our ceramic Naiad wishing dolls. That was crying, a lot.
I cleared my throat loudly. Two eyes glanced up. Hers looked even redder than mine felt. She began blinking quickly, crushed glass too then.
“Are you OK?” I said, cautiously. I recognised her almost instantly: the posh grand- daughter of the old DeLacey couple who lived in the la-di-da house at the top of the lake. I’d seen this girl in town now and again when she visited her grandparents.
The girl sniffed loudly and made a sound like ‘eurgh’. A fiddle with the Naiad dolls before rising and walking towards the counter, arms loose at her side, feet in front of one another, like she was on a catwalk.
Wow. Up close she was even lovelier, not Princess Table, but pretty in a different way. Deep-sea blue eyes set wide apart and a curiously shaped parcel-bow mouth, and an expression like she was staring out of a painting. I flicked another look at the picture of Mum getting crowned Mermaid – a second candyfloss thought already charging through my mind like an angry bull in a china-mermaid shop: if I looked like this girl, I bet Mum wouldn’t cancel.