Soul Beach

seeing me, though. He’s seeing airbrushed-Alice, a version that could never be achieved without plastic surgery. The black rings are still under my eyes, and there’s the odd spot that threatens to turn into a face-full.
    For a moment, my love-fuelled high wobbles. Would handsome, loaded Danny Cross have fallen for me if we’d somehow met in real life, the way that cousin Stacie thinks soul mates are bound to?
    My eyes. They’re different to how they used to look. Now they’re bright. Knowing. Full of longing.
    Just like his . . .
    I leave the toilets. The bell cuts short Cara’s story just as she is confiding that he might be ‘the one’, and I smile because for the first time ever , I know how she feels. And that moment of understanding, even if I can’t actually tell her, raises me right up, just for a second or two, and makes me feel close to my friend again.
    Right now there’s only one person I want to tell. Only one other person who can possibly know how life – and death – have a funny habit of throwing you off balance.
    Meggie will understand.
    ‘This is the nearest thing to a hangover I’ve had in months,’ my sister says, clutching her forehead with full Meggie Melodrama, and pulling huge sunglasses down over her eyes.
    ‘I thought you didn’t get hangovers here.’
    ‘So did I. Hope I’m the only one to be feeling this bad, or it’ll really get the conspiracy theorists going. They’ll say it was sent to tame us or something.’
    We’re in a bamboo hut, lying side by side on a red-and-white checked quilt. The hut is built without the wall that overlooks the sea, so from here all we can see is the ocean and the sky. It could be a poster in a beauty spa, except it feels three-dimensional and completely breath-taking.
    Sometimes I wonder how something that’s just online can mesmerise me so totally.
    ‘Meggie?’
    ‘That’s me.’
    ‘I think . . . I might have met someone.’
    She sits bolt upright, and then winces. ‘Ouch. You think ? Who? It can’t be Robbie, not after all this time. I mean, nice boy and very cute-looking but maybe a bit dull . . . So, do I know him?’
    ‘You could say that, yes.’
    ‘Oh, don’t tell me, don’t tell me, let me guess . . .’ she says.
    ‘Are you trying to turn one of the most amazing things that has ever happened to me into a guessing game, Meggie?’
    She gives me a wary look. ‘Um . . .’
    And then I laugh, because actually, right now, all I want to do is giggle and gossip and count my blessings while someone teases me and makes me blush. I want to be normal . ‘Only kidding. Anyway, you won’t be able to work it out.’
    She screws up her face in concentration. I know she won’t guess, because, apart from Robbie and Cara, she never could remember the names of any of my friends. She just wasn’t that interested.
    ‘Who was that kid that Cara went out with when you were in Year Ten? The one who played football for Middlesex? I always thought you two would go well together.’ She’s stretching out again, enjoying herself.
    ‘Not him. Like I said, you’re never going to guess . . .’
    Suddenly I am desperate to tell her.
    ‘Or that lad with the Afro, who looked like a very young Michael Jackson. He was really cute. Ah, my little sister in love. I never thought I’d see the day—’
    ‘It’s Danny.’
    ‘No, I can’t remember a Danny . . .’ But then she pushes herself up, and goes to grab my arm, which, of course, she can’t. ‘Danny, as in, Danny here ?’
    I nod. Once she’s taken it in, I’m going to tell her why he’s wonderful, why I’ll never meet anyone like him again. How we’re two halves of the same person. How being around him makes me feel special. She’s going to tell me how she felt with Tim. We’re going to be like we were before: my big sister laughing, joking with me, telling me what’s what.
    I never thought I’d want to be talked down to, but right now I want to hear her poking gentle fun at me, before agreeing that he is absolutely gorgeous. I wait.
    She shakes her head, although judging from the pained expression in her eyes as she does so, it’s not good for her hangover. ‘Hmm. Not a great idea, really, little sis.’
    ‘We didn’t mean it to happen,’ I say, feeling slightly awkward now. ‘I mean, you can’t control it, can you? It just . . . happens.’
    She smiles indulgently. ‘Oh, honestly, Florrie, you do make me laugh.’
    ‘Laugh?’ I wanted her to giggle, didn’t