This Northern Sky by Julia Green Page A

the sky seemed so huge. Mum says it’s because the island is almost flat. Sea in every direction. It’s so far out in the ocean the weather changes all the time, and the light changes too, so you see things that were invisible before, like the other islands in the distance. They seem to come and go, as if sometimes they are there, and sometimes not . . .
    Nothing stays the same for long.
    I hear a car engine, getting closer. I stop to look back. It’s a Land Rover or a jeep, I see now, and my heart gives a little leap. I stand back at one of the passing places to let it go by. It clatters over the next cattle grid, and then slows down, and I can see I was right to be hopeful. Piers is driving, and Finn is in the front passenger seat.
    ‘Where are you off to now?’ Piers asks. ‘Can we give you a lift?’
    ‘Just walking . . . not going anywhere in particular.’ It sounds lame.
    Piers laughs. ‘We called for you this morning,’ he said. ‘But you were out walking then too. We thought you might come with us on a wee boating trip. To get cockles. Tomorrow or the next day, depending on the weather. When the wind drops, at least.’
    ‘Yes please,’ I say.
    ‘Why don’t you get in? We’re off to get fresh lobster from Isla’s dad. Come for the ride.’
    ‘Kate’s wanting to walk, Piers!’ Finn says.
    ‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘’I’d like to come with you. Thanks.’
    Piers turns the music up so loud there’s no point even trying to talk. It’s good, bowling along in the jeep, leaving my sad thoughts behind for a while at least.
    We turn off up a narrow track and bump all the way to an old white cottage at the top. There’s a sign: Fresh lobsters for sale . While Piers goes in, I stay in the jeep with Finn. He switches off the music.
    ‘Sorry,’ Finn says. ‘Piers is impossible sometimes.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘The way he just crashes over anyone else’s plans. But he means well.’
    ‘I know that,’ I say.
    ‘Where were you going really?’
    ‘Just walking. To get out of the house. It’s unbearable. My parents . . .’
    Finn turns so he’s looking at me. ‘What’s going on?’
    ‘Arguing and stuff. It’s always like this now. I think they’re going to split up.’
    He doesn’t say anything.
    A girl comes out of the house and stands there a moment. She’s really pretty. I glance at Finn, but he hasn’t seen her. The girl goes back inside.
    Piers comes out carrying a plastic bucket and passes it to me to put on the back seat. The lobsters are still alive, clattering over each other, shiny blue. He puts the lid on and clicks it tight. ‘Can you hold the bucket steady so the water doesn’t slop everywhere?’
    ‘I’ll do that,’ Finn says. ‘Swap seats?
    ‘Isla was asking after you,’ Piers says to Finn. ‘I gave her your best wishes. I invited her to come out with us in the boat too.’
    ‘What did she say?’
    ‘She said she’d love to.’
    Piers starts up the engine. He turns the jeep in front of the house and skids on loose gravel. I see a face at the window: that girl again, who I imagine must be Isla. For a moment our eyes meet but neither of us smiles or waves or anything.
    ‘You’re quiet,’ Piers says to me.
    ‘She’s fine,’ Finn says. ‘Don’t take any notice, Kate.’
    I haven’t got anything interesting to say . . . my head’s a blank. But Piers doesn’t seem that bothered, he chats on to Finn about wetsuits and windsurfing, and I look out of the window. The lobsters clatter and scrabble in their plastic bucket. It’s a horrible sound.
    ‘Come back for tea with us,’ Finn says, when we’re almost back at the village.
    ‘Are you sure?’ I say. ‘Thanks.’
    He’s being kind. He knows I don’t want to go back to my house.
    ‘Can we stop a minute, so I can tell my parents where I am?’
    Piers slows the jeep down as we get to the house, and pulls up on the grass in front.
    Dad’s reading in the front window seat. He waves through the