The Cupid Company

3

Forever and Ever
Amber Aitken

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

1 forever friends

2 shipmates

3 partners in crime

4 together forever

5 stalemate

6 pen pals

7 a name is forever

8 in it together

9 feels like forever

10 forever young

11 sista hood

12 beach chums

13 could this be forever?

14 school mates

15 puppy pals

16 friends in need

17 playing for keeps

18 always and forever

19 checkmate

20 friends indeed

21 smiles to last forever

22 peas in a pod

23 soul mates

Copyright

About the Publisher

1 forever friends

The ocean tide was at its lowest, the boats sitting high and dry on the yellow beach sand. Early-morning fishermen stood chewing sandwiches while they fished. Somewhere up above in the salty air, white seagulls circled and squawked for their breakfast. The promenade and beach were otherwise deserted, but Coral and her pup Romeo barely noticed. They were running far too fast.

On the other side of the Sunday Harbour seafront, Nicks was also racing along. Pretty beach houses of sea blue and green stood quietly as she passed them by. Shops were empty too. Not that Nicks noticed.

Coral and Romeo sped past the cobbled jetty and a huddle of beached buoys with the wind whistling in their ears like a hurricane.

Nicks’s heart beat so fast it made her chest burn. But that didn’t slow her down one bit. She swiped at the tears streaming down her cold cheeks and ran even faster.

Coral was the first to spy Coral Hut as it stood quietly in line with the rest of the sleeping beach huts. The sight of its pale pink, minty-green and lemon-yellow stripes spurred her on, and she put all her energy into her final sprint.

Finally Nicks reached the promenade. There was Coral Hut! She dipped her head and moved her arms even faster.

The two girls arrived at their beach hut at precisely the same time. But then they were best friends; they did almost everything together.

“Coral!”

“Nicks!”

“I got here as quickly as I could,” cried Coral breathlessly. “I left the moment you called. Are you all right?”

Nicks was also trying to catch her breath. She was sobbing at the same time, which made catching her breath just about impossible. And talking was out of the question. Coral immediately inspected her friend for any sign of injury. She looked OK. Coral patted her friend’s head. Her long blonde hair was a tangled, windswept knot, but the rest of her head seemed to be in good shape. She zoomed in on her friend’s face with its puffy, red eyes and cheeks drenched in tears.

“Why are you crying?” she pleaded. Nicks had refused to tell her anything on the phone – she’d only said that she had the worst news ever and that they should meet at the beach hut immediately.

Finally Nicks took a very deep breath. “My mum has been offered a new job!” she cried out.

Coral stared and blinked.

Nicks took a second deep breath. “And the job is in a town almost five hours away from Sunday Harbour!”

A new job…in a town almost five hours away? Coral gasped (it had taken a few moments for the awful news to make sense). “Is she actually going to take it?”

“I think she just might! She says it seems too good to pass up. She thinks she may never get an opportunity like this one again.” The words tumbled out one after another.

Thoughts of endless days without Nicks spread through Coral’s head. Suddenly her dry eyes sprang a leak. The tears spilled over her eyelids and landed on her cheeks with a splat. It really was the worst news ever.

“But what about you? And me? And us?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” groaned Nicks.

The girls hugged fiercely on the patch of sand directly in front of Coral Hut while Romeo gave a small, woeful whine. He was a small chocolate and white terrier with a very big heart.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” sniffed Coral, who was not usually the sensible one of the two, but today felt that she had to look after her best friend.

Nicks nodded and allowed herself to be led up the deck steps. Coral kept her jaw firm as she unlocked the beach hut’s narrow double doors. A few determined tears tipped down her face but she swiped them away. Quickly she pulled out a couple of deckchairs and, grabbing one of the soft woollen candy-striped throws, dragged the whole lot out on to the deck.

“Sit,” she said.

And they did, facing the gleaming silver ocean. Coral draped the throw over their knees and took her best friend’s hand in her own. They sat that way for a few moments, not saying anything. Coral was trying desperately hard to be grown-up and brave for her friend’s sake, but it was proving difficult. All she could think about was a Sunday Harbour without Nicks. And what about the Cupid Company they had set up together at Coral Hut? They were Cupid’s co-workers–the best matchmaking team ever. Their motto was All for love and love for all. But a team needed at least two people. Coral shook her head to scatter the sad thoughts that were collecting like puddles. Squeezing Nicks’s hand, she stared out at the horizon.

“Your mum hasn’t quite made her mind up yet, has she?” she asked.

“Well, no, not fully,” replied Nicks.

“So we still have a chance of persuading her to stay then?”

Nicks shrugged half-heartedly. “I guess so.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do–we’ll just have to find a way to get her to stay in Sunday Harbour!” Coral had an excellent imagination; she was never one to be outdone. Romeo yapped his agreement, like he understood everything, and Coral rubbed the fur between his ears thoughtfully. But how…?

“But how?” cried Nicks.

Coral coughed in a serious sort of way. “Well, we will…mmm. We could…um. How about we hide her car keys!”

Nicks frowned.

“No, that’s just silly,” added Coral before her friend could answer. “Well, how about sending your mum a pretend letter saying that the job has gone to someone else?”

Nicks shrugged and then shook her head.

“Yes you’re right–too deceitful,” agreed Coral. “Erm, you could beg and plead for her to stay?” she added hopefully.

“I’ve tried that one already,” grumbled Nicks.

The morning air had been very still, but just at that moment a gust of wind sprang up out of nowhere. It tugged at the girls’ hair and swirled around the deck, yanking at the Cupid Company poster taped to door. The poster fluttered to the floor like an autumn leaf. The wind disappeared and Romeo barked.

Coral stared at the poster. “I’VE GOT IT!” she cried out, grinning at the heavens. If they were Cupid’s co-workers, then Aphrodite–the goddess of love–had just sent them a very clear instruction. Coral turned to face her friend with enormous moon eyes and a big smile. “How about the Cupid Company makes it their mission to find your mum the perfect partner. If she falls in love she’ll never ever ever want to leave Sunday Harbour!” Coral punched the air determinedly. There really was nothing more powerful than love. It had been known to change lives.

Nicks straightened up immediately. Her head tilted from side to side as she considered this suggestion. And then she turned to face Coral. Her frown had turned itself upside down.

So Coral smiled too.

Nicks grinned.

Coral grinned.

“MAG-NIF-ICENT!” they both shouted out at once. And then they hugged (only this time it was out of happiness). It was time for the Cupid Company to work its magic.

2 shipmates

Nicks jumped to her feet and the throw slipped to the floor. She didn’t give it a second glance. An organiser by nature, she now had the biggest Cupid Company assignment of their matchmaking careers to plot and plan. And as it was her mum they would be matchmaking, everything had to be very carefully considered.

She rushed inside the beach hut for her clipboard and the file of completed Cupid Company questionnaires. All she had to do was search through them to find Mr Perfect. Except the file was not where she’d left it, neatly stored inside the white wicker basket. Now where could Coral have put it?

Nicks stood up and stuck her head out through the open door. Coral was leaning over the deck’s railing and talking to a middle-aged man and woman who were standing on the deck of the glossy red beach hut next door–the hut that belonged to the famous crime thriller writer, JD ‘Doctor Death’ Hatchett. He’d left Sunday Harbour with a ‘To Let’ sign on the red hut’s door, so there was a good chance that the couple were the red beach hut’s new occupants. Nicks joined Coral out on the deck and waved politely.

“This is my very best friend Nicks,” announced Coral in a loud voice. And then she turned to Nicks. “This is Meredith and Malcolm. The name Meredith means ‘protector of the sea’.”

“Oh, OK!” smiled Nicks. “Hello!”

The protector of the sea grinned broadly and waved. She was slim with black-grey wispy hair that wafted on the sea breeze like tumbleweed. Malcolm was a small man with wide shoulders, thick legs and a very kind face.

“We’re marine scientists,” he revealed proudly.

“This beach hut is our research base for the rest of the summer,” joined in Meredith. “Our mission is to convince the world–scientific and otherwise–to change the name of the starfish to the ‘sea star’, because, well, it’s not a fish! It doesn’t even look like a fish.”

Both girls stared silently at their new neighbours. Could you do that? Just tell the world to just change the name of something? If so, Coral had a few suggestions of her own – like seahorse, dragonfly and catfish. None of them made sense either. She imagined creating public campaigns to lobby for—

Suddenly an elbow lodged in her side. Nicks and their new neighbours were all staring at her expectantly.

“That’s a really good idea!” she replied enthusiastically. But she didn’t mention the seahorses, dragonflies or catfish just yet.

“It is?” squawked Nicks.

“Great news!” replied Meredith. “Collecting washed-up marine matter from the shoreline can be very exciting. And we could really do with the help.”

Coral stared and shrugged. She’d missed something; she just wasn’t quite sure what it was yet.

Nicks huffed. Not that she really minded helping their new neighbours clear up, but they had to get her mum to fall in love. Everything depended on it! There really was no time for anything else.

“Well, we’d better say goodbye,” she said with a gentle smile. “We have lots to do.”

“Yes, lots and lots,” agreed Coral.

And, waving goodbye, Nicks and Coral disappeared inside Coral Hut, where they fished out the file of completed Cupid Company questionnaires that was lodged in between the books of romantic poetry on the shelf. Coral then settled into a deckchair beside Nicks and opened the file.

“So let’s start by making a shortlist of perfect partners for your mum.”

Nicks nodded. “We must find someone who is kind, clever, funny and handsome.”

“Right,” agreed Coral as she flicked through the questionnaires on file. “Kind. Clever. Funny. Handsome…” She flicked some more. “We seem to have a shortage of questionnaires.”

“Pass me that,” snapped Nicks. She was usually a very patient sort, but today her nerves made her nervy. They could not mess this one up. So she flicked left and flicked right. Questionnaires covered in scribble floated on the breeze. Finally Nicks glanced up. “There’s no one kind, clever, funny or handsome enough!”

The girls slumped. Even Romeo’s hairy chin dipped to the floor. But inspiration was not long in coming. Coral squinted while she waited for a new idea to land in her head. One always came. Finally she sat bolt upright.

“This Cupid Company case is not like any other we’ve ever had before, is it?”

Nicks shook her head in agreement. “This one is the most important case by far.”

“Usually our clients come to us looking for love,” continued Coral thoughtfully. “But your mum…well, she’s not really looking for love, is she?”

Nicks nodded glumly. “I think she’d try her hardest not to fall in love right now. All she can think about is that daft new job.”

“So we can’t ask your mum to complete a questionnaire. But that’s OK, you know her better than anybody, right? You know her likes and dislikes.”

“Well, sort of.” Nicks thought about her mum. Her mum was just…her mum. “She really hasn’t had many boyfriends, you know,” she admitted.

Coral gave her chin a scratch. “She married your dad, that’s a start.”

“My parents got divorced.”

“So you see–that’s a start! We’ll look for someone who is not like your dad.”

Nicks frowned. She thought her dad was kind, clever, funny and handsome. “Maybe we should try and find someone who Mum has something in common with–you know, like a shared hobby.”

“Good idea! So what are your mum’s hobbies, apart from the post office?”

“The post office is where she works, Coral–it’s not a hobby.” Nicks fell silent and chewed her bottom lip for a few thoughtful moments. “She does like genealogy.”

“That’s probably why she works at the post office,” replied Coral matter-of-factly. “What better place to collect stamps.”

“Duh! Genealogy is when you trace your family tree and make heritage scrapbooks and collect heirlooms and stuff,” explained Nicks.

“Oh right,” Coral was surprised. That all sounded much too like hard work. She was already thinking about other ideas. “Wouldn’t it be brilliant if we could contact your mum’s school sweetheart! You never know, maybe he’s single too?” Her eyes were misty with the possibility of it all. The only thing better than love was long-lost love.

“My dad was her school sweetheart,” harrumphed Nicks.

“Right–well there’s only one thing left to do then,” declared Coral hurriedly. “We have to find out what other things she’s into. That might give us a clue as to what kind of man we should find her. We have to go to your house and do some of our own investigating.

We may only get one crack at this, so Mr Perfect had better be Mr Perfect! We’ll flip through photo albums. We’ll dig in old shoeboxes and look under the bed. We’ll poke about in desk drawers and page through your mum’s recipe books. We’ll check her diary and even listen in on her phone calls. This is how we’ll find out about her hobbies and interests!” Coral was excited by the mystery of it all, but Nicks was still stuck at recipe books.

“What do recipes have to do with finding Mr Perfect?”

“That’s how we find out what her favourite foods are,” replied Coral with an isn’t-it-obvious face. “We need to know exactly what she likes and what she dislikes. What are her favourite things in the world? What are her hopes and dreams? But she must not find out what we’re up to.”

Nicks stared at her friend. When did getting her mum to fall in love turn into a top-secret spying operation? But then they were desperate. She shrugged.

Coral stood up, glanced about, and checked her wristwatch. “I’ve got a dentist appointment. My mum will kill me if I’m late. We’ll make contact at your house at say–oh-eleven-thirty-seven-a.m.”

“I have no idea what that means, Coral.”

Coral glanced about again, trying to contain her eagerness. “That means I’ll meet you at your house this morning at 37 minutes past 11,” she explained patiently to her friend, who obviously was not very good at this sort of thing. But Coral had always been a fan of James Bond’s films. She understood that they were now secret agents of love.

“Right, well, I’ll hang out here for a while longer,” replied Nicks.

“OK, fine.” Coral kept her voice low and hoarse. “And I’ll see you you-know-where at you-know-when. She winked and was gone.

3 partners in crime

Coral arrived at Nicks’s house at 20 minutes past 12 o’clock, but that was only because her mum had insisted on popping into the chemist after the dentist. But that was OK; it had worked out for the best in the end. Coral had spent that time in the fancy-dress shop three doors down from the chemist.

“Hey, Nicks!” she hissed as she hopped excitedly from one foot to the other. “Is your mum around?”

“She’s upstairs, but she’s leaving soon.”

Coral grinned. “Perfect! Look what I have for us.” She rattled a paper carrier bag printed with the words FANCY PANTS.

“Erm, a pair of fancy pants?” replied Nicks nervously. Her best friend was known to have some wild ideas.

Coral frowned. Her best friend could be odd at times. “Nope. I got us a pair of wigs.” She opened the bag and removed one blonde and one curly reddish-brown wig. “They’re for us, so that we can conduct our research without being noticed.”

“Without being noticed by who?” wondered Nicks out loud.

“By your mum, of course! She must not know what we’re up to, remember? And Sunday Harbour is a small town. So these will be perfect.” She passed Nicks the wig that was long and blonde.

“They would be perfect, I guess,” replied Nicks, “except have you noticed one thing?” She put the wig on her head.

Coral stared and blinked at her friend, who did not look very different at all. Nicks’s own hair was long and blonde too. So she whipped the wig from her friend’s head and handed her the wig that was reddish-brown and curly and a surprisingly good match to her own hair instead.

Nicks pressed this wig firmly on to her head and stared silently at Coral for a few moments. “There, now you’ll look like me and I’ll look like you. That should trick my mum.”

Coral made a ‘humph’ sort of sound through her nostrils. Nicks wasn’t being as grateful as Coral had imagined she’d be. Perhaps she should have got her the blue beehive–that would have shown her! But there wasn’t any time to think any more about that now as suddenly Nicks’s mum appeared at the door to the kitchen.

“Hello, Coral, dear,” she chimed sweetly as she reached for her car keys hanging on a hook.

Coral shoved the blonde wig under her top. “Hi, Mrs Waterman,” she replied.

“I do wish you’d call me Maggie,” replied Nicks’s mum. “What’s that under your top, Coral?”

“Oh, this?” Coral patted her round soft belly. “Too many treats,” she chuckled.

Maggie Waterman raised an eyebrow and made a face like she suspected something was up. But she didn’t ask any further questions and simply kissed the tops of the girls’ heads instead. “All right then, you two, be good, and I’ll see you later.” And then she was gone.

“I bet she’s off to meet someone about that new job she’s after,” growled Coral like it was an unforgivable offence.

“Actually she’s off to the post office,” replied Nicks, who was still holding the wig she’d hidden behind her back. “Now, where do we start?”

Coral stared around the kitchen. “We might as well start in here,” she suggested.

Nicks deposited the reddish-brown wig on the countertop. They had to learn everything possible about her mum if they were going to find the perfect Mr Perfect. And the decorative bowl on top of the microwave seemed like a good place to start. It wasn’t long before she held her hand in the air victoriously.

“Ticket stubs for the Sea Life Aquarium!” she announced, smiling. It had been a great day out–her mum did love the ocean and dolphins.

Coral grinned. “Brilliant–maybe Mr Perfect also loves fish and stuff!” She returned to her own exploring and found the door to a large cupboard beneath the stairs. Inside was a lady’s bicycle with two flat tyres and cobwebbed spokes. There was also a tennis racket with broken strings and an abdominal exerciser with rusty hinges. These were excellent clues as to what Maggie Waterman did not enjoy. She turned to Nicks, who had her nose stuck in a book called Recipes for Every Day of the Year.

Her friend glanced up from her reading and nodded. “The pasta recipe pages show the most wear and tear. Mum does like pasta.”

Coral drummed her fingers on her chin and gave this some thought. “Pasta is Italian food. And Mr Selvaggio at Deli Antonia is Italian. He must be very lonely since Mrs Selvaggio passed away. So that’s another place for us to visit.”

“What is?” asked Nicks, who no longer had any idea what Coral was talking about.

“Deli Antonia! Now, shall we head upstairs?”

Nicks led the way to a bedroom that was decorated in white with a small gold chandelier and a large gilt-edged mirror over a dresser.

“This room is lovely,” ooh’d Coral. “It’s so girly and romantic.”

“My mum does enjoy decorating. She buys all the latest interior decorating magazines.”

“So that’s another thing then!” cheered Coral, who was really starting to enjoy this snooping…or investigating. “If there’s a kind, clever, funny, handsome, pasta-loving interior decorator in Sunday Harbour–we will find him!”

Nicks was finally beginning to believe that this research wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “Come on–I’ll get the photo albums out,” she said as she reached beneath the bed for a large box with a label that read FAMILY PHOTOS. Inside the box were three matching photo albums. Hoisting one out, she clambered on top of her mum’s white bedspread. “Now, what exactly are we looking for?”

Coral joined her friend on the bed and nestled in close. Reaching over, she turned to the first page of the photo album. There were snaps of Nick’s mum when she was younger, taking part in various stage productions. Coral jabbed a finger at one of the photographs.

“Look–see, your mum obviously loves the theatre.”

Nicks seemed surprised. She’d really had no idea. Her mum had always kept very busy…well, just being her mum.

“So maybe Mr Perfect could be a member of Sunday Harbour’s amateur dramatics society?” suggested Coral as she turned the pages of the photo album.

The next set of photographs consisted of beach shots that were so old they were black and white. These would have been taken way before Maggie Waterman’s time. The women in the pictures wore swimming costumes that had skirts attached and the men walked about in straw hats. Coral didn’t like to imagine a world without colour and was about to turn the page when one particular photo caught her eye. It showed a row of beach huts that looked remarkably similar to Sunday Harbour’s own row of beach huts. Coral paused and peered closely. Sand dunes rose up in the background. There was a promenade. And a sign beneath a lamppost that advised: PEDESTRIANS AND BICYCLES ONLY. Sunday Harbour’s promenade had an identical sign, in exactly the same place!

Coral’s nose was now practically touching the album as she scanned the rest of the photographs closely. One photograph three down and two across suddenly seemed to jump out at her. It was mounted with a narrow cardboard edging and somebody had written an inscription in capitals along the bottom of the cardboard mount. OUR LOVELY BEACH HUT, it said. This particular photo showed a close up of the front of a beach hut with two young girls standing on the hut’s deck, smiling and holding hands. Like the beach bathers in the other black and white photographs, they also wore old-fashioned swimming costumes and had heads of matching corkscrew curls decorated with large droopy bows. The girls were probably about twelve years old, although the bows made them look a little younger. Coral chuckled. She was twelve years old and couldn’t imagine wearing big old bows in her hair!

And then she noticed two more details. The first was that both girls had shiny, heart-shaped pendants on silver chains around their necks. And secondly, there was a number five nailed to the wood directly above the beach hut’s doors. The tail of the number five–which was supposed to curve like a half-O shape–was cut short. It was missing. Well, the end bit of it was missing. Coral gasped. She’d seen that half-missing number five a trillion times before. They were looking at an ancient photograph of Coral Hut!

“What’s the matter?” asked Nicks.

Coral tapped the photograph with her finger and made strange gurgling noises. Try as she might, she couldn’t get any words out.

Nicks followed Coral’s finger and stared closely at the photograph for a few moments. “Hey, I think that’s Coral Hut!” she cried out.

“I know!” Finally Coral could talk.

Nicks peered even closer. “Wowzers–imagine that. I wonder who those two girls are?”

Coral nodded excitedly. “Me too. But just as importantly–why does your mum have an old photograph of Coral Hut?”

“It probably wasn’t called Coral Hut back then,” suggested Nicks in her usual rational sort of way.

Coral did not think that this was relevant. “This is an album of family photographs, right?” she said instead. “So could this…do you think this means that someone in your family owned Coral Hut once upon a time?”

Nicks raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Imagine that,” she cooed and tapped her chin. “In that case, maybe Coral Hut was once called Nicks’s Hut? Or Nicola Hut, even. It is a family name, you know.”

Coral swiftly shook the suggestion from her head. “I doubt it. And it doesn’t really matter anyway. It won’t help us to find Mr Perfect.” She was about to turn the album page, but Nicks wasn’t quite ready to move on just yet.

“I think we should find out. It would be really interesting. I mean–imagine if my ancestors spent their summers at our hut too.”

“We really should be focusing on Mr Perfect,” Coral said gruffly.

“I know. But we could do both. Maybe my mum will know. After all, she’s interested in family trees and stuff.”

“You can’t ask your mum!” Coral bleated. “If she suspects anything she’ll be on her guard and it will make getting her to fall in love even more difficult.”

Nicks frowned. Coral did have a point. Perhaps it was better to play things safe. “I know–we’ll ask your mum instead. After all, you must have received some sort of ownership documents when you inherited the hut from your Great-Aunt Coral.”

“I guess,” admitted Coral, who was still not madly keen on the idea of Coral Hut being known as anything other than Coral Hut. Ever. “OK–we’ll ask my mum,” she finally agreed. “But for now we should focus on finishing our investigation.”

Nicks nodded eagerly and reached for the notebook and pen on her mum’s bedside table. And then she began scribbling. She was making a list of all the leads they had for Mr Perfect. There was the aquarium…and Mr Selvaggio at Deli Antonia…and the local theatre…maybe an interior decorator…

Coral leaned over and peered at the list. And then she smiled. Finally they had some sort of plan. Now all they had to do was find Mr Perfect and get Cupid to take careful aim. And then Nicks would never leave Sunday Harbour. Now how difficult could that really be?

4 together forever

“So what exactly do we do when we get to Deli Antonia?” Nicks wondered out loud.

“Well, we could ask Mr Selvaggio to fill in a Cupid Company questionnaire,” suggested Coral. “But that takes time, which we don’t have, so maybe we should just ask him plenty of relevant questions instead. We urgently need to find out if he’s our Mr Perfect. After all, you can’t build a marriage on pasta alone.”

“Marriage?” squawked Nicks. “Who said anything about my mum getting married?”

“Well, isn’t that what happens when you fall in love? You get married,” explained Coral. But Nicks didn’t look very convinced. In fact, she looked like she didn’t want to think about it at all. Tightening her grip on Romeo’s lead, she quickened her step. It was a warm day and they’d already been walking for a while, so Nicks thought about a long cold drink instead.

There was the usual crowd gathering outside the Sea Life Aquarium; afternoons meant feeding time for the bigger fish and it was always worth queuing for. But today there seemed to be a different sort of commotion going on. The girls looked closer until they saw what it was that was causing all the fuss. And then they saw them–Meredith and Malcolm at the front of the crowd, handing out bits of paper and shouting about something. The girls moved closer.

“Come and see the sea star exhibition,” hollered Meredith to the crowd.

“And discover why the starfish is really a sea star,” added Malcolm with just as much enthusiasm.

Meredith noticed the girls and waved them over merrily. “Isn’t this great!” she cheered. “We’ve really drawn a crowd.”

Coral didn’t have the heart to tell her that there was usually a bunch of people waiting to see the big fish get fed. She smiled instead.

“Would you like a free pass to see the sea star exhibition?” offered Malcolm. “After all, we are neighbours.” He chuckled and Meredith chuckled like this was really quite funny.

“Erm, we’re just off…on an errand for Nicks’s mum,” white-lied Coral.

Nicks nodded, adding, “But could we have two free passes for tomorrow instead?” It was a Plan B, just in case Mr Selvaggio was not Mr Perfect after all.

“Alrighty!” agreed Meredith. “And don’t forget there’s the Sea Life Aquarium Open Day coming up soon.”

The girls nodded with interest. The Aquarium Open Day was something they looked forward to every year.

“And you be sure to join us on a beach scavenge sometime soon,” concluded Malcolm. “Dawn is such a dazzling time of day; we find such interesting marine life along the shoreline.”

Both Coral and Nicks nodded once more, even though the mention of the word ‘dawn’ made them feel very sleepy. Just then a man with a large belly covered in a stretched Hawaiian cotton shirt squeezed past Nicks. He was trailed by four small, round children carrying ice creams. They all shuffled past and joined the queue for the aquarium. They were followed by three sauntering surfer dudes who left wafts of coconut oil in their wake. And then an old man wearing holey clothes and a captain’s cap came hobbling along, carrying his stinky bait box. The day was hot, noisy and aromatic. There was nothing quite like summertime in Sunday Harbour. Nicks was more aware of this than anybody.

Finally Coral and Nicks and Meredith and Malcolm waved goodbye and went their separate ways. The marine scientists continued handing out flyers and the girls pressed on in the direction of Mr Selvaggio and Deli Antonia. Nicks had a very determined look in her eye.

The deli wasn’t very busy when they arrived and the girls peered through the large shopfront window while they secured Romeo’s lead to a post outside. Inside were two old ladies in tortoiseshell glasses seated at a small table near the wall. A man in a suit was hunched over the glass deli counter, studying the meat, cheese and pickles and making a small ‘mmm’ sound, like he was running off a generator. Behind the counter a short, dark man wearing a bright white apron stood and waited, silent and expectant. It was Mr Selvaggio. Both girls stopped and stared at him closely. He still had all his hair, which was slicked back with some type of oil. He skin was soft and a little saggy, but it was a nice nutty colour, and his moustache was very neatly trimmed. And he had warm black eyes that almost seemed to twinkle.

Finally the man in the suit made up his mind and barked out his order to Mr Selvaggio, who nimbly wrapped some salami slices in brown paper and filled a small plastic pot with olives. The girls turned to each other. This man was efficient! That was the great thing about being best friends–they didn’t always need words. Mr Selvaggio then popped the salami and olives into a bag and finally added a small crusty roll to its contents. He handed the bag over with a friendly smile.

“The bread is on-a the house,” he said with a soft Italian accent.

The girls turned to each other once again. And generous!

The man in the suit left Deli Antonia with a smile, leaving Mr Selvaggio free to focus on the girls. “And what-a may I do for-a you?” he said.

“Hiya,” said Coral while Nicks stood there silently. She suddenly felt nervous. What if Mr Selvaggio did marry her mum?

Mr Selvaggio smiled while he waited patiently for their order. But Coral’s mind had gone blank. She should have prepared a few questions! So she tried to focus on what sort of man they were looking for. Ah yes, someone who was kind, clever, funny, handsome.

“So, Mr Selvaggio,” she began, “do you do any charity work?”

Mr Selvaggio looked confused. “Uh, well we do try-a to collect for the Sea Watch Foundation,” he stammered as he pointed to the plastic boat-shaped moneybox on the countertop.

Coral beamed at Nicks and turned to face Mr Selvaggio once more. “And what is the square root of 37?” She didn’t know the answer to this herself, but she hoped that Mr Selvaggio would answer very quickly because that would be telling enough.

Mr Selvaggio’s forehead scrunched up while he gave this some silent thought.

“OK–what is the capital of Italy then?” Coral blurted out.

Mr Selvaggio looked instantly relieved. “That would’a be Rome!”

Coral clapped. He definitely knew that one! “Now, tell us your favourite joke, please.”

Mr Selvaggio looked very confused. “But-a why?”

“Why?” echoed Coral. “Well…because…because the great thing about living in Sunday Harbour is our community spirit. Everyone knows everybody else. And we–my good friend NICKS WATERMAN and I–just love getting to know people better.”

Mr Selvaggio could not argue with that. “My favourite-a joke…” he considered, looking up at the ceiling. And then he began. “Knock-a knock-a.”

“Who’s there?” replied both girls eagerly (even Nicks was feeling Coral’s community spirit speech).

“Tuna.”

“Tuna who?”

“Tuna your radio down, I’m trying to get some sleep!” Mr Selvaggio chuckled.

Both girls stood there blinking.

Tuna your round radio down…? Coral turned to look at Nicks.

At least the joke kind of works with an Italian accent, that has to count for something! And he obviously has a very good sense of humour!

They turned back to Mr Selvaggio and laughed too. But Coral wasn’t done interrogating yet. Nicks, meanwhile, had just noticed a thin, shiny gold wedding band on Mr Selvaggio’s ring finger. She stared. Maybe he just hadn’t got around to taking it off yet. After all, it couldn’t have been easy for him when his wife passed away. Nicks decided to push the thought from her mind.

“So what sort of things do you enjoy doing?” continued Coral, who was too busy with the verbal questionnaire to notice any gold ring.

Meanwhile, Nicks’s eyes crept up to the counter behind Mr Selvaggio. There was a very large, very shiny chrome coffee machine with funnels and drip trays. There were labeled canisters filled with different kinds of coffee as well as sugar. There were boxes of mocha sticks stuffed with chocolate. And then Nicks’s gaze landed on a large glass dome over a plate of what appeared to be square biscuits studded with dried fruit. A sign next to the dome of biscuits read:

HANDMADE FRUIT BISCOTTI–FRESHLY BAKED BY MRS ANTONIA SELVAGGIO

Nicks’s gaze settled on Mr Selvaggio’s wedding ring once again. She looked back to the sign advertising the fruit biscotti. And then it all became very clear. Coral had got it all wrong. Mrs Selvaggio was obviously alive and well and very well; it must have been Mr Selvaggio’s mother who had passed away.

“Coral!” she hissed.

But Coral was too busy with her interrogation. She’d just remembered Nicks’s mum’s bicycle with the cobweb spokes and the tennis racket with its broken strings and thought she’d better be more specific with her questions. “Do you enjoy playing sport, Mr Selvaggio?”

“CORAL!”

Coral smiled apologetically at Mr Selvaggio and then faced her best friend with a glare. Can’t you see I’m trying to find Mr Perfect!

Nicks made big eyes at the ring finger on her hand. She then nodded a few times in Mr Selvaggio’s direction.

But Coral was not taking any notice. “And what about the theatre–when was the last time you attended, Mr Selvaggio?”

“You probably took your wife along with you, didn’t you, Mr Selvaggio?” interrupted Nicks with an uneasy smile.

“Yes, you—” began Coral. And then her head quickly snapped back in Nicks’s direction. “Now, Nicks,” she said kindly, “that’s just being silly.”

Mr Selvaggio looked very bewildered, but seemed relieved to be able to answer at least one question directly. “Actually, my-a wife does enjoy-a the theatre very-a much,” he admitted. “And she’s just-a in the back. I call her and you can ask for yourself!” His face was desperate, like he’d do almost anything to get out of answering any more of these annoying girls’ questions.

Coral stood ramrod straight with her eyes in a wide O-shape. Her jaw flapped as she struggled to find words to speak. So Nicks stepped in.

“Oh, that’s OK, Mr Selvaggio, we’ve really got to get going anyway. But it’s been great getting to know you. And we’re sorry about your mum.”

She pressed a hand into Coral’s back and gently bulldozed her in the direction of the door. Coral was stammering but making very little sense, although at one point she did mumble something that sounded like ‘it must be a miracle…’

5 stalemate

Nicks patted her pocket, the one containing the two free passes to the sea star exhibition at the aquarium. Yesterday’s visit to Deli Antonia had been a disaster with embarrassing consequences. Not that Coral really saw it like this. She was rather indignant about the whole affair, almost as if Mr Selvaggio had tricked them by being married all along. So much for Sunday Harbour community spirit, she harrumphed.

“Come on!” urged Nicks.

Coral ambled along with her hands buried deep inside her pockets and kicked a smooth pebble.

“Oh, get over it, Coral. So you didn’t know there were two Mrs Selvaggios–it’s no biggie.”

Actually, inside Coral felt disappointed. She definitely did not want Nicks to leave Sunday Harbour and she’d really (really really) hoped that this would be an easy Cupid Company case. But so far it was proving to be anything but easy!

“Here’s your pass,” said Nicks as they reached the aquarium admissions booth.

Coral took the pass from her friend and handed it over to the lady wearing a Sally Seal hat and T-shirt. The lady noticed Coral noticing her outfit and whispered conspiratorially, “My name really is Sally–isn’t that cool! We’ve all got our special aquarium names.” She pointed to Gary Great White standing nearby, handing out balloons. And then she laughed and clapped her palms together like a seal.

Coral stared at the woman. She really does throw herself into her job, she thought. Coral never did anything in half measures either, and suddenly she applauded the woman’s efforts (but not in a seal sort of way).

Nicks, meanwhile, was all business as she carefully scrutinised their surroundings. “Now, I suppose we can assume that everyone who is here loves the ocean, right?”

Coral nodded, vaguely distracted by Gary Great White who was doing shark impressions. He was really quite good. So Coral made a shark fin with her hand and held it on top of her head. Gary Great White certainly seemed to appreciate her efforts and took another great big shark bite out of the fresh air. And then Coral spotted Chris Crab.

“Oh, would you stop it!” snapped Nicks as she slapped Coral’s raised scissor-fingers. “Can we just get on? Now we just have to find a man who is kind, clever, funny and handsome. And not married.”

Ahead of them was a board with a colourful map of the aquarium’s layout. Nicks studied it closely while she decided on a plan. Up ahead was the Touch Tank. Then to the left was the twenty-metre-long underwater tunnel with its moving walkway. To the right was the half-moon shark tank. And further along was Reef Magic–Nurseries of the Seas. The aquarium wasn’t all indoors though. Visitors could go outside to admire the dolphin pool and seal enclosures.

Coral was reading from the board too, and suddenly she pointed a finger at the area called Coral Bay.

“That’s my favourite place,” she ooh’d.

Nicks stared at her friend and then returned to the map. It was only Coral’s favourite because her name was featured in the title. “Come on–let’s head for the Touch Tank,” she said, a little more sharply that she’d intended. It was in the opposite direction to Coral Bay.

They hadn’t walked for more than a minute or two when they were approached by Julie Jellyfish. Her arms were stiff and bent and trembled at the elbows. Coral grinned and did her own jellyfish impression, which involved wobbling her head too (something she felt Julie’s impression was missing). Julie was obviously impressed, because she laughed and added the head-wobble to her act as well.

“Welcome to the Sea Life Aquarium–home to global marine life,” warbled Julie Jellyfish as she handed both girls a shiny printed leaflet. “Would you like to adopt a sea creature?”

“Er…” Coral stared at the leaflet and read through the list of sea creatures up for adoption. She couldn’t see her mum letting her keep a hammerhead shark. Or a leatherback turtle. A pair of sea otters was probably out of the question too. The most she could probably do was a clownfish–a little swimmer like Nemo. But this didn’t seem to be on the list. She was about to raise this point with Julie Jellyfish, but Nicks had just noticed a board listing the feeding times. She pointed to it, checked her watch and smiled at Julie Jellyfish while she shoved the leaflet into her pocket.

“We’ve got to hurry if we’re going to make feeding time!”

So Coral followed Nicks over to the chest-high tank with a man inside wearing bright orange plastic waders and holding a bowl filled with food. A crowd had already gathered, but that was good; it was the crowd Coral and Nicks were interested in. They screened the hairy heads–searching for a handsome candidate for Mr Perfect. There were a lot of old people and a lot of young people in the crowd, but there weren’t many in-between.

Coral elbowed Nicks and whispered, “Perhaps we should move on.”

Nicks nodded like it was a good idea. They wandered through the aquarium–past a café called Fish Fingers and the half-moon shark tank and the aquarium novelty shop, but they could really only focus on the aquarium visitors. It was, after all, why they were here.

They came across a large poster inviting them to meet the new aquarium manager, which seemed a good idea. But as soon as they got to his office, it turned out the manager was off supervising the repair of a leak in a tank of electric eels. So they continued on their way until finally they came to Coral Bay, which was quite simply a tank packed with different types of coral and thousands of small, brightly coloured fish. Coral Bay did not draw as many spectators, although the girls did notice one possible candidate for Mr Perfect. This man wasn’t very tall, but he had a kind smile and was dressed well. And then they noticed the camera around his neck.

“A tourist–no good,” murmured Nicks. She wanted to stay in Sunday Harbour. So they continued on to the Touch Tank, which was just a short distance away. This was the attraction that had drawn the largest crowd. Nicks gazed around her with eyes like a hawk. Coral stared with eyes on stalks. And then Nicks nudged Coral. Coral nodded. She’d seen him too.

There, on the other side of the Touch Tank, was a tall man with black hair and friendly eyes. He gazed into the water intently and then turned to the teenage boys around him. He was clearly a teacher on a field trip and the boys seemed to be having a great time.

Turning back to the Touch Tank, he pointed out some of the sea creatures swimming or lolling about in the cool, clear water. The teenagers seemed especially drawn to the stingrays with their elegant wings that rippled like grey velvety cloaks in the water. Coral and Nicks moved into position, right beside the field trip group, and watched closely. The stingrays were captivating, with winning little smiles.

Potential Mr Perfect looked from the teenage boys to the stingrays. And then he slowly slipped his right arm into the cool water. Bending forward as far as he could, his hand reached towards the stingrays. The teenage boys fell silent and, like Coral and Nicks, all leaned forward–ever so slightly–watching, waiting. Potential Mr Perfect’s hand was heading for one of the largest stingrays in the tank. The stingray remained still and patient. And then it twitched.

Potential Mr Perfect leaped back and howled with fright. He clutched his heart and howled a few more times, but in a rather high-pitched, girly sort of way, like he was having a heart attack. Some of the passers-by clearly thought he might be and moved closer with looks of concern on their faces. But the teenage boys knew exactly what had happened and they howled with laughter. They laughed so hard they bent at the waist and thumped their knees or the backs of their friends. They laughed so hard they cried. And while all this went on, poor old Potential Mr Perfect still clutched his chest and breathed like he was going to have a baby.

“Come on, Coral,” grumbled Nicks. “He’s not our man.”

6 pen pals

The girls regrouped at Coral Hut the following day, but Coral was not her usual bold, brave and breezy self. Today she felt a little low. After all, they still weren’t any closer to rooting out Mr Perfect.

“Cheer up–we have never failed before,” said Nicks as she tried to jolly her friend along. Today it was her turn to be the positive one.

“I guess,” mumbled Coral as she gave Romeo a cuddle. “But we don’t have much time. We haven’t even found Mr Perfect yet. And then we’ve still got to get your mum to fall in love with him.”

“Hey-ho!” hollered an unexpected voice.

Both girls and pup glanced up to see Meredith and Malcolm heading up the beach towards Coral Hut. Meredith carried a small silver bucket.

Romeo jumped to his feet and raced quick-as-a-blur down the hut steps and over to their new neighbours as if they were old friends. He then pranced about and walked backwards on his hind legs and did fancy figures of eight. Meredith giggled and clapped like she was most impressed.

Coral and Nicks watched the show and wondered what had got into Romeo. He didn’t usually perform tricks–well, not without the promise of a very visible treat anyway. They were even more surprised when Romeo leaped into Meredith’s arms. She nearly dropped her silver bucket, but quickly managed to balance small, hairy dog and bucket quite well.

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