Kook. Chris Vick

      JADE GOT ME in trouble from day one.

      We moved back to Cornwall one Saturday, early last September. Mum, my kid sister Tegan, and me.

      It was a sunny day, with a cool wind. The first day of autumn, or maybe the last of summer.

      We drove through the village of Penford, and after a five-minute drive over the moor, bounced our way down a broken track.

      When we got there, I saw why the rent was cheap. There were two cottages, storm-beaten old things, with moss on their roofs and rotten wood windows, nestled between the clifftops and the moor. There were stone walls to keep the sheep away, a few brush trees bent into weird shapes by the wind, and not much else.

      Half a mile downhill, the land ended in a sharp line at the clifftop.

      We were going to live in one cottage. Jade, her dad and their dog already lived in the other. They came over in the afternoon when Mum was arguing with the removal guy about why it wasn’t her fault the track had knackered the van’s suspension.

      Jade’s dad introduced them both. Jade hung back and let him do the talking. He said about borrowing a cup of sugar any time and other neighbourly stuff. I didn’t pay any attention. I was working hard trying not to stare at Jade.

      Her hair was long and black. Her eyes were sea blue-and-green, shining out of a honey brown face. Jade had a glow about her, something no old T-shirt and denim jacket could hide.

      She took one look at me with those sea eyes and curled her lips into a half-smile. It put a hook in me.

      “How old are you, Sam?” her dad said.

      “Sorry, what?” I said.

      “How old are you?”

      “Fifteen.”

      “Right. You’ll be going to Penwith High with Jade then. You can help each other with homework, hang out and stuff.” He was over keen. I think it was awkward for Jade as well as me. I found out later he’d checked me with one look and reckoned I’d be A Good Influence on Jade. Different from the type she normally hung out with.

      We went into the kitchen to drink tea and eat a cake they’d brought with them, her dad – Bob – and Mum chatting away about Cornwall, me and Jade competing at who-can-say-the-least. She liked Tegan though. Jade gave her bits of cake to feed to the scruffy sheep dog.

      When they stood to go, Bob said, “Jade was going to take Tess for a walk. You could go with her… Oh, daft, aren’t I? You’re unpacking. Another time.”

      “That’s okay,” said Mum. “You go, Sam, but not too long. If it’s all right with Jade?”

      “Okay.” Jade and her dog were out of the kitchen before I could say a word.

      Jade made a line for the nearby hill, pelting straight up the path like she was on a mission.

      “What’s the hurry?” I said, catching her up.

      “I need to check something.” She had a Cornish accent. But soft; husky.

      At the top we climbed up on to a large, flat rock and sat down. She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and, using me as a wind shelter, lit one.

      Beyond the moor was the sea, blue and white and shining. The light of it hit me so hard I had to screw up my eyes. I hadn’t seen the Cornish sea in years, not since I was four, after Dad died. I couldn’t even remember it much. I hadn’t expected that just looking at it would make my head spin. It was big as the sky.

      “Great view,” I said.

      “Yeah. Right. Hold this,” she said, passing me the cigarette. She pulled a tiny pair of binoculars from her denim jacket, fiddled with the focus and pointed them at the distant sea. Along the coast was a thin headland of cliff knifing into the Atlantic. Jade didn’t move an inch. She just stared through the binocs, reaching out a hand for the cigarette once in a while. The dog lay beside her, its black and white head on her lap.

      Then, suddenly, she sat upright, tense, like she’d noticed something. All I could make