I couldn’t imagine living on a yacht permanently. One of the things I was missing most about our old house back in London was having my own room. Normally I got on really well with my brother and sister, but without my safe haven to escape to, they were really starting to drive me crazy.

  ‘I wish we had a not-much-stuff rule at home,’ said Charlie. ‘With five kids in the house, it’s a bit chaotic.’

  ‘And super-noisy!’ said Cici.

  ‘Five kids?’ I asked. ‘Wow, that’s a big family.’

  ‘It wasn’t always so big,’ said Charlie. ‘For ages it was just Mum, my sister Sophia, and me. Now I have two stepbrothers, Oscar and Seb, and my half-sister, Daisy. She’s only six.’

  ‘That must have been hard to get used to,’ I said.

  ‘I thought it would be horrible but it’s actually really fun,’ said Charlie. ‘There’s always someone to talk to or play with. And it’s nice to see Mum so happy. My stepdad, Dave, is really great.’

  For a moment I wondered what it would be like to have a stepdad. I pushed the thought away. I just wished I had my own dad back.

  I turned to Cici. ‘And what about your family?’

  ‘We’re just a totally normal family,’ said Cici. ‘I have an older brother called Will, who is twelve and in the same class as Jack. My mum’s a fashion designer, so she travels all over the world for the international shows. That’s how she met my dad at Hong Kong Fashion Week. Mum has her own label and creates the most gorgeous clothes. My dad is a pastry chef and makes the best cakes in the world.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound normal to me,’ I replied. ‘Your parents sound incredible.’

  I was curious to learn more about these three girls. Would Meg’s mum really take us out sailing to meet the dolphins? What was Charlie’s big mixed family like? And what would it be like to have a dad who made the best cakes in the world? I was suddenly very glad that Mrs Marshall had put me in their science group.

  The yacht rocked gently as we worked on our project.

  We sat around the cockpit and pored over the computer, looking up information on endangered African animals like the elephant, lion, cheetah, gorilla and rhinoceros. It made me sad to think that these beautiful animals were in danger.

  ‘Did you know that tens of thousands of African elephants are killed each year for their ivory tusks?’ asked Meg. Her brown eyes sparked with anger.

  We looked at the screen, where there were photos of beautiful elephants and their calves, piles of ivory tusks, then a pile of bangles and pendants.

  ‘That’s awful,’ said Charlie.

  ‘Who would wear that jewellery, knowing that elephants were killed to make it?’ I asked.

  ‘Selfish, horrible people,’ said Cici.

  ‘That’s why we have to make a really good game,’ said Meg, looking at us all intently. ‘Mum says most people don’t realise the implications of their actions. If they knew that by using plastic shopping bags, they might be responsible for killing turtles or dolphins, then they wouldn’t do it.’

  Cici put her hand on Meg’s arm and smiled affectionately. ‘Meg has her Wildlife Warrior face on.’

  ‘So you mean our game could teach kids about animals and the danger they’re in?’ I asked. ‘Which might help save them?’

  It seemed unlikely that four kids could do anything to help save the animals. The problem seemed too big.

  Meg nodded. ‘If lots of kids play our game they’d learn about which animals are in danger and what we can do to stop it.’

  ‘Especially if we win the school competition and go to the regional science competition,’ said Cici, waggling her eyebrows like an evil scientist.

  ‘Right,’ said Charlie. ‘We’d better get started then. How is this game going to work?’

  ‘First we need to draw a game plan on cardboard for the pieces to move around with traps and challenges,’ said Meg.

  ‘Lots of people will probably do that,’ said Cici. ‘Ours has to be really awesome.’

  ‘Well, why don’t we make a 3D board out of papier-mâché?’ I said. ‘We could have mountains and plains and rainforest to represent the different habitats, and use toy animals.’

  I immediately thought of Bella’s collection of plastic jungle animals that were tucked away in a shoebox at the bottom of the cupboard. She never played with them anymore and our game would definitely be a much better use for them.

  ‘Great idea,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ll raid our games cupboard at home for dice and something we can use for players to move around the board.’

  I wrote down a list of animals to include:

  ‘Who’d have thought the most endangered animal in Africa was an addax?’ I said, as I marked it down in my best handwriting.

  ‘I’ve never even heard of an addax,’ said Cici.

  ‘It’s a kind of white antelope,’ said Meg, checking on the screen. ‘There are only about two hundred left in the world.’

  ‘So why are there so few left?’ asked Charlie.

  ‘People, of course,’ said Meg fiercely. ‘Addax are hunted and their natural habitat is taken over by farming.’

  We spent the next hour brainstorming good ideas for our game. I wrote out a list of jobs for everyone to work on at home.

  That night, as I snuggled into my bunk bed, Mum came to kiss me goodnight. She stroked my forehead.

  ‘Our neighbour, Mrs Beecham, was a little upset this afternoon,’ said Mum.

  I felt worried. What awful things had Mrs Beecham said to Mum?

  ‘She complained about the building noise again,’ continued Mum. ‘But she also said you and your friends were being a bit wild today?’

  So I told her how we had been singing and laughing as we practised the dance. I felt guilty that we’d upset Mrs Beecham again.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ I said. ‘We didn’t mean to be noisy. We were just having fun, but when I tried to explain, Mrs Beecham told me not to be sassy.’

  Mum hugged me close. ‘Don’t you worry about Mrs Beecham. She was brought up in a time when children, especially girls, were meant to be seen and not heard. But that’s not what I want for you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, Mrs Beecham is really paying you a compliment, even if she didn’t mean to,’ Mum said. ‘Sassy means someone who is strong, smart, brave and bold, which is exactly what I hope you’ll be all through your life.’

  I nodded, thinking about what Mum had said. Sassy sounded good when you put it like that.

  ‘Just remember that Mrs Beecham is old and crotchety because she’s lonely and in pain, so try to be kind to her,’ said Mum.

  Be kind to Mrs Beecham, who hates kids? I thought. Not likely. Her gibe about being sassy still stung.

  I wasn’t sure that Mum was right so I looked it up on our computer the next morning. The online definition said, ‘Sassy /sasi/ – lively, bold, and full of spirit’, although another definition did list it as rude and disrespectful, which is probably more what Mrs Beecham had in mind.

  On Friday we only had lessons in the morning. We had free reading, a spelling test and some class time to discuss our science projects. Then we had to mark all our homework for the week.

  Mrs Marshall stopped by my desk to check my homework. She nodded her approval.

  ‘Excellent work, Pippa,’ she said. ‘You’re really settling in well. I think you are going to be one of my star students.’

  Olivia glanced at me and frowned.

  I glowed with pleasure. To be honest, the work we had done at Bromley House was a little ahead of what we were doing here, so I found the schoolwork quite easy. But it was nice to be thought of as clever.

  The bell went for lunchtime. On Friday afternoons all the students had sport. At home at my old school, we played hockey or tennis (I was truly terrible at tennis), and I’d even spent a year competing on the fencing team.

  But here at Kira Cove School, during summer the students had a choice of swimming, surfing, sailing or kayaking. Charlie said they played sports like football and netball during the winter when it was cooler.

  Thankfully, Mrs Marshall allocated me to the kayaking group with Charlie, Meg and Cici. I’d never done it before but it sounded easier than surfing or sailing, and I was glad to be doing it with the other girls.

  Lunchtime was a flurry of activity as everyone ate their lunch quickly, then got ready. We changed into our swimming costumes and rash vests, and put on sunscreen and hats. The kids chattered with excitement. Then we all walked in a long double line down to the beach.

  Olivia was walking in front of me. She turned around and looked at me.

  ‘Nice swimming costume,’ she said, but I could tell by her tone that she really meant the opposite. My swimming costume was the one I’d worn at my old school and was boring navy-blue. Suddenly I realised all the other girls were wearing brightly coloured costumes of lolly-pink, orange, aqua and pastel-green.

  I wanted to explain that we hadn’t had the time or money to buy a new swimming costume since we’d arrived. Instead I just blushed and looked awkward and gabbled something about getting a new one soon. Olivia always seemed to make me feel clumsy.

  Olivia just turned away and started talking to Sienna about gymnastics class.

  Down at the marina we met our instructors and split into groups. The kayakers put on life jackets and paired up. I was with Charlie, and Cici and Meg were together. Then we dragged our bright-orange plastic kayaks down into the water and climbed in.

  I wobbled like crazy and had to sit down fast, clinging onto the sides. The kayak rocked violently and Charlie steadied it with both hands. She pushed the kayak out further, then leapt in behind me.

  ‘Okay, paddle,’ said Charlie. ‘It won’t take long to get the hang of it.’

  That was easy for Charlie to say. We each had a double-sided paddle, which we dipped into the water one side after the other. I tried to copy what Meg and Cici were doing in the other kayak. But I kept paddling too hard so I was out of time with Charlie. This swung the nose around so we veered in a circle. Then I accidentally reached too far back and whacked Charlie’s paddle with mine.

  ‘Ouch,’ she cried. I dropped the paddle in surprise.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said as my paddle floated away out of reach.

  Charlie laughed. ‘At least you didn’t get my head, although it was pretty close!’

  Meg and Cici giggled as they watched my clumsy attempts to reach for the paddle, nearly capsizing our kayak in the process. They zipped over and rescued my escaping paddle, handing it back to me.

  ‘Let’s try again,’ said Charlie. ‘Sit up straighter and I’ll call the stroke so we synchronise better.’

  Instead of going in a direct line, we kept zigzagging back and forth until I gradually got into a better rhythm. Then I began to relax and look about us.

  It was another perfect Kira Island day – brilliant with sunshine, a slight cooling breeze, and the sparkling sapphire-blue cove.

  We paddled out through the colourful boats and into the open water to join the other kids. The instructor had briefed us to slowly paddle out and around a course of floating buoys, then back to the marina. But the kids had other ideas!

  ‘Race you guys,’ called a boy from the kayak next to us. I realised it was Alex, and his friend Rory.

  ‘Okay,’ agreed Charlie. ‘Ready, set, go!’

  ‘But …’ I tried to object, not sure that my brand-new paddling skills were up to a race, but the others were already off. Charlie started paddling behind me and I just had to do my best to keep up with her.

  A group of other kayaks was paddling for the first buoy. There were six teams – Charlie and me, Alex and Rory, Cici and Meg, Sam and Joey, Olivia and Sienna, Hamish and Luke. We paddled like crazy but Charlie and I had no chance since it was my very first time in a kayak. We came in a very slow last!

  Luckily, Charlie didn’t seem to mind. Meg and Cici were really good and came in equal first with Sam and Joey. The boys celebrated by bombing off their kayak into the water and splashing everyone.

  Sam and Joey disappeared underwater. I was a bit worried about them because we were so far offshore and I wondered what might be down in the deep. Sharks? Stingrays? Or a giant octopus? I peered down into the shadowy depths.

  Suddenly our kayak lurched. I nearly dropped my paddle again.

  ‘What was that?’ I asked Charlie.

  Charlie gripped onto the side of the kayak. ‘A humpback whale or two?’ It took me a moment to realise she was joking.

  The kayak lurched again and Charlie and I were tossed out of the boat and into the water. I spluttered to the surface, thrashing my arms, my life jacket keeping me afloat. Of course, it was Sam and Joey who had overturned our kayak. They resurfaced shouting with laughter and lithely climbed back into their kayak.

  I found it a lot harder. I slipped and slithered, splashing back into the sea every time. My arms felt weak from the unusual exercise and I didn’t have the strength to pull myself up. Finally, Charlie had to haul me in, nearly capsizing the kayak again. The other kids chuckled at my clumsy rescue, but not in a nasty way. Only Olivia looked delighted at my predicament.

  ‘Last one back to shore is a stinky slug,’ yelled Joey. He and Sam raced off, closely followed by the other teams.

  ‘I can’t race again,’ I cried, slumping over my paddle. ‘My arms are like jelly!’

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Charlie, lying back on the stern and closing her eyes. ‘Let’s float for a bit.’

  Cici and Meg drifted along beside us, waiting for me to recover. We bobbed around out on the sea, chatting about our plans for the weekend, then slowly paddled back towards shore. Suddenly Charlie whispered to me.

  ‘Stop. Look.’

  I lifted my paddle out of the water and gazed around. A sleek silver-grey head broke the surface. Then another and another. Our two kayaks were drifting in the middle of a pod of dolphins. The dolphins surged and swam around us, peeking at us curiously.

  ‘Aren’t they amazing?’ I said, my voice hushed with wonder.

  ‘Meg’s mum says that dolphins are the most intelligent animals on the planet after humans,’ said Charlie.

  ‘This is the pod of bottlenose dolphins that Mum’s studying,’ said Meg, from the next kayak. ‘That’s my favourite, Artemis. I can tell her by that notch in her dorsal fin.’

  Meg pointed out a dolphin who was swimming closer to us, with a distinctive scar on her fin.

  ‘She has a boy calf called Jupiter,’ explained Meg, pointing to a smaller dolphin beside her. ‘He’s really playful.’

  As if to prove her right, Jupiter jumped straight out of the water and grinned at us. I wondered if he was the cheeky boy I’d seen from the boatshed tower.

  The four of us floated on our kayaks, watching. Artemis swam right up to us on her side, and peered at us with one eye, as if she was just as fascinated by us as we were with her.

  ‘She’s checking us out,’ said Cici.

  ‘Artemis likes humans,’ said Meg, putting her hand in the water. ‘She was orphaned as a baby and the marine biologists at Marine Animal Rescue saved her life. She came in every evening to the beach and they fed her fish until she was old enough to fend for herself. Now she comes to visit us quite often off the back of the yacht.’

  Artemis swam closer and bumped Meg’s hand with her snout. A strand of seaweed floated by. Meg grabbed it and tossed it to Artemis. Artemis took the seaweed and raced away with it in her mouth. Jupiter gave chase. Artemis dived deep, then passed the weed to Jupiter, who tossed it back. Then Artemis swam back and presented the seaweed to Meg.

  ‘Wow,’ I said. ‘Meg, you are a dolphin whisperer!’

  Meg beamed with pleasure. ‘When I was younger I played with more dolphins than other kids. I really do wish I could talk to them.’

  The dolphins swam around us for a while, then, as if by some secret signal, they sank beneath the waves and disappeared. The four of us looked at each other, speechless with exhilaration. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. And it was so special to share it with these three girls who were becoming my friends. I paddled back to shore in a cloud of happiness.

  We were the last two crews back to shore. In pairs, we carried the kayaks up the beach, hosed them off and stowed them in the storage shed. I raced back to get the paddles and started hosing them off beside the shed.

  I heard a group of the kids chatting and laughing around the corner. Suddenly I recognised a voice. It was Olivia.

  ‘Did you see Philippa?’ she asked. ‘She was hopeless. It was pretty funny watching her trying to get back in the kayak.’

  I shrank back against the wall. I didn’t want to hear what they were saying, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.

  ‘I guess Pippa hasn’t done much kayaking before,’ replied a boy’s voice. I think it was Joey. ‘She did well for her first try.’

  ‘She thinks she’s so cool,’ said Olivia. I wasn’t imagining it. Her tone had definitely turned nasty. ‘With her posh accent, and bragging about her swanky London school. It’s like she’s looking down her nose at us all.’

  ‘Pippa seems all right,’ said another boy. It might have been Alex.

  ‘But she nearly broke your nose,’ Olivia said. ‘She was just trying to show off.’

  It was Alex! I cringed. I couldn’t believe Olivia was talking about me like that behind my back.

  The voices moved off, so I skulked back to put the paddles away. We all changed into dry clothes and milled around outside, waiting for Mrs Marshall to mark the roll. Most people had changed into casual clothes rather than their school uniforms.

  While the others chattered about the dolphins and the race, I kicked a stone along the footpath, feeling angry and upset and lonely all at once.

  When the roll was marked, everyone was allowed to go home. Olivia stopped beside us and smiled winningly.

  ‘Bye, girls. See you tomorrow at three o’clock.’ She waved and wandered off.

  ‘See you tomorrow,’ mumbled Charlie and Cici, looking embarrassed.

  Tomorrow? What’s happening on Saturday? I thought. But I had a terrible feeling that Olivia had organised something and not invited me.

 

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