Forget Me Not by Georgie Armstrong (pocket ebook reader .txt) 📖

the party tonight. Please don’t forget about that either.”
Evie covered her head with her duvet once more, as she heard the muffled footsteps of her Mother’s leaving her room. Free at last, she grinned. She seldom cared about her Mother’s demands, and this was no exception, so she cosily drifted back to sleep.

* * *

It was late afternoon, and the crickets buzzed softly in the shrubbery, and the sun high in the sky gathered and sprayed beams of melting sunshine down onto the bay. It was quite a pretty sight; the light refracting off of the water’s edge; and the children of Star Bay counting to ten down on the island, and engaging to seek their playmates. What a pity our heroine was fast asleep.

By the time the clock struck three, Evie’s mind was just beginning to come to. She stretched her slim body and glimpsed at her watch. The feeling of horror that followed was quite incapable for words. She ripped her duvet off her legs and searched madly for something to wear. Pulling on a pair of old shorts that were fraying at the ends, and a t-shirt, she recklessly snatched the cards off of her desk and made her way down the stairs and out the door. Perhaps it was too much of a shock to check her hair in the mirror, which was quite rightly labelled as ‘bed hair’.

She planned on visiting the fifty two houses without allowing to meet anyone new. All she wanted was to drop the card into the letter box and hurry onto the next house. However it seemed that the people of Star Bay were unnecessarily gracious in the fact that they had received a card from the new neighbours. It is fair to say that Evie had gained a few more friends in the time that it took to deliver the cards; her introvert social skills put to the challenge.
Upon the second to last delivery, Evie was discontented with the greeting of an open door. As quietly as she could be, she stepped up to the door and bent down to place the card on the welcome mat.
“Would you like me to take that?” There was a tall girl of about Evie’s age passing the hall.
“Sure. Thank you.” Evie turned her head away. Her body language clearly represented that of a girl whose shyness overruled her mind.
“What is it?” The girl briskly asked, turning the envelope upon it’s back and slicing her fingertips underneath the blue paper.
“It’s a card from my Mother. I’m not really sure what it’s about, she just thought it polite to inform the neighbours of our arrival.”
“How very classy that is.” The girl’s accent was strong and curled itself around every vowel and word she spoke. Evie must have sounded so posh with her English la-de-dah accent, with all the letters pronounced perfectly. The feeling that then followed was the most intolerable feeling in the world to Evie. They stood in the most uncomfortable silence possibly imaginable as the girl’s eyes skimmed her Mother’s words.
“Tell your Mother thank you. It’s a lovely card. I’m glad we’ve such nice neighbours.”
Evie nodded uneasily.
“I’m Jessica by the way.” She smiled prettily and leant against the door frame. “I guess you and I are about the same age.”
“I’m fifteen.” Evie spoke bluntly for conversational small talk wasn’t her best ability.
“Me too. And will you be joining Lake Hill High in September? I’ll make sure I’m there to show you around.”
“I think so.”
With most of the embarrassment over for now, Evie turned away, leaving the girl with a lingering smile.

She returned home with the satisfaction of having completed her task within one and a half hours of setting off. Which her cheeks flushed pink, she opened the door only to be met with the angry face of her Mother. “Where have you been?”
Evie reasoned with herself - should she lie?
“I was walking. It was such a lovely afternoon that I didn’t want to spend it inside.”
Her Mother’s eyebrows raised in speculation. “I’m not at all fond of liars as you well know.”
Evie swallowed past a lump in her throat. Had her Mother guessed that she had risen late and spent the past time rushing through all the houses?
“Remember we have a party tonight. Don’t be late getting ready.”

… Or perhaps she would tell the truth like this -
“I accidentally fell back to sleep, but managed to deliver all of the cards just now.”
“Evie, I knew this would happen. Time and time again, I trust you with such minute tasks, and without a doubt, each time, you will forget like the silly little creature you are.”
Evie swallowed past the soreness of her throat, willing her to fight back. Hadn’t she just delivered all the cards without fail, regardless of when she began?
“Remember we have a party tonight. Don’t be late getting ready.”
Within seconds of her Mother’s interrogative, she managed to decide to risk it; and tell a lie. After all, it was more of a white lie. It really was a lovely day outside.

Chapter Two

Funny how the strangest situations can turn out to be the best. Looking back, I realise that this was one of those moments. For who would have thought, that at a neighbours welcome party, there would be a place to sit and read in the quiet. To sit and feel the satisfaction of a good book and well earned peace and quiet. Who would have thought that this could have been one of the best and worst moments of her life?

“Evie? Evie, dear, where are you sneaking off to in such a hurry?”

One person who had an immediate establishment in Evie’s heart was Florence Knight. It was hard to define exactly in the right terms just how good it was for Evie to finally seek a friend in America. Florence’s abrupt opinions and merriment was enough to persuade Evie that she would make a valuable friend there in Star Bay. Evie’s input into the conversation was not needed most of the time (besides the occasional ‘Mmm’ and nod of appreciation compulsory within any discussion), as Florence failed to stop for any breath.

“I’m just going to the toilet.”
“Be quick, I’m about to hand out my homemade carrot cake.”
Evie nodded and followed the carefully drawn (in pink felt tip and glitter) signs towards the toilet. Really, she was being devious, which was quite out of character for Evie. She was on a quest; a challenge she had set herself while meeting the new neighbours, her mind quite filled with boredom. She had, nestled carefully in her bag, her copy of Jane Eyre, and simply had to read the next chapter before the party ended.

The cream carpet parted into two doorways. Her hands clenched, itching for relief of turning the sugar thin pages of her book, her spirit burning with desire to dissolve in the words of Charlotte Bronte, she pushed the door open.

A candle, a flame, so tiny resided on the desk, lighting the empty room. However, empty as described, the room was nothing but. A face was illumined by the soft light, and with further glaring, Evie made out a hunched body in the corner of the room. Held in the lap of the figure, a book. How irrationally unfair Evie found this. This being that she was not alone in a rebellious plan of skipping the party to read. The flame flopped and straightened, a tear drop of wax sliding down its side. And as swiftly as this happened, the eyes of the reader were distracted, and attracted to the intruder.

“Sorry,” She stood; face down as if in dismay. And on her turning to exit the cold room, was not quick enough to glimpse the features of this reader, and soon she was closing the door and clicking it shut behind her.

The other side of the hall was a small airing cupboard, creaking and groaning in the heat. Her common sense quite scattered, Evie opened the cupboard door and slid inside. It was warm and surprisingly roomy nestled amongst the towels and bed sheets. She closed the doors, allowing a crack of light to illuminate a torch like stripe into the cupboard where she was presently sat. She took her book from her bag and tore it open to Chapter Six.

* * *

It was no surprise that both her Mother and Florence were mad at her the next morning. She hadn’t planned on falling asleep. It was just so warm in the airing cupboard, and Evie hadn’t even noticed when her eye lids slid shut. With a desperate attempt to avoid her Mother that afternoon, she set out for a spot of adventure.

* * *
...
Under the harsh light of the sun, the sand sinks under the rocks, and emerges the other side, creating the earth of a completely undisturbed bay. No, nothing to pollute the beauty of that place, not even the animals went there anymore. It had all been left to live in peace now.

About halfway down the sand, a pontoon of rotting wood sat stranded on the shore, and stretched out onto the water a little way. At its base, forget me nots grew heavily rooted in the undergrowth, forceful against the fingertips of the blazing sun. And they grew in casual patches around the bay; climbing up the chalk, strangling the plants that grew there.

Quietly, the waves rolled effortlessly along the white sand, frothing at the edges. Raw reflections of the jealous sky spat down, and gently coloured the clear water. Absent of impurity. Writhing with perfection. And silence ruled the air.

But soft, broke the noise of motion. A fuss from within the bushes, and out stepped an odd looking girl. She was thin, with pallid skin and striking green eyes. Her hair was a bundle of dark tumbleweed, with twigs and leaves stuck in the knots. Her features were small, her lips parted, and her face animated. She stepped, barely able to create a footprint in the sand, over to the pontoon where she ran her fingertips over the crumbling wood. The fragile stability of one pontoon’s leg gave way and collapsed into the water, splashing the girl slightly. She staggered back, quivering with unexpected fright, whispering only one word, “Evie,” She watched the pontoon's leg gently bobbing in the water for a moment, “You silly girl. You silly, silly girl.” The corner of the pontoon with the missing leg gently sunk, and bowed into the sand. “Look what you’ve done you silly girl,” She stretched a bony hand out into the water, careful not to emerge her toes, and grasped the flaked wood. “You’ve broken it.” She glared around her, sourcing the power to turn back the time. And as quickly as she had arrived, she scattered back into the bushes and disappeared. Silence was restored to the secret bay.

Forty two minutes later, the girl returned. In her spindly hands, she carried six large iron nails, a hammer and a large rectangular piece of wood. And with these, she fixed the pontoon until it stood stable once more. She smiled warmly at her work, and leaving the place with a satisfied smirk, she disappeared for the last time that day.

And that was that - the peace of a place untouched with the pollution of human hands, was broken by a girl. But it didn’t