The Last Charm. Ella Allbright

a couple of centimetres, he slams it into first gear and shoots forward a metre or so. With a shearing sound, the cars break apart. He climbs back out and comes around to inspect the damage, wincing. After a moment, he shrugs. ‘It could be worse, I guess.’

      Leila studies the buckled chrome bumper, her lips twisting. ‘Grandad’s not going to be happy with me. I’ve only had it a few weeks.’

      ‘I’m sure he’ll forgive you.’

      ‘Hopefully. Anyway –’ she changes the subject abruptly, spinning round to face him ‘– it doesn’t matter, does it? About what Mr Strickland said. Because you were making it up, right? You’re not in the Marines. It was a load of rubbish.’

      He frowns. ‘Why would you say that?’

      ‘You’re the most rebellious person I know, Jake. Answering back and getting into fights. Jumping off Durdle Door. Getting thrown out of school. Plus, you’re here, not halfway across the world. So come on, stop being stupid, what have you actually been up to?’

      For a second, his frown deepens but then he laughs and crosses his arms across his broad chest. ‘Yeah, you’re right. You got me. I’ve actually been in a youth offending detention centre for the last eighteen months.’

      ‘What … what for?’ Her eyes widen.

      ‘You’re unbelievable.’ He chuckles. ‘You’d rather believe I broke the law and was sent away than believe I might’ve found something worth doing with my life. Because of course people can never change, and there’s no way the rebellious stuff could’ve been a phase I was going through, or a reaction to an unhappy home life, could it?’ Her mouth drops open, but he carries on. ‘There’s no way that talking to someone I looked up to and respected as I was growing up, someone who’d served in the Navy and said it was the making of him, inspired me to want to do something better, to be someone better than my dad. And of course, leaving home, finding a purpose and something I’m good at and a family I belong in, isn’t a possibility you’d consider for me.’

      ‘Woah. Quite the soliloquy. Okay, I apologise if I got it wrong.’ She cocks her head, studying his face. ‘You do look different. More grown up.’ Then her gaze drifts down to his muscular forearms. Even though it’s a crisp November day, he’s wearing a black T-shirt. She shivers in the breeze whipping brown and auburn leaves around them, the wind sending them whistling along the concrete to form in damp piles in corners of the car park.

      ‘I believe you –’ her expression smooths out ‘– about the Navy, I mean. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I was just surprised. How come the visit?’

      ‘We’re allowed shore leave. I wanted to see my mum, and my old stomping ground.’ He clears his throat. ‘You seem irritated with me sometimes. Why is that?’

      ‘Well, you can be pretty annoying. Cocky, and overprotective.’

      ‘Please,’ he says wryly, ‘you’ll give me a big head if you’re not careful.’

      ‘Sorry, but it’s just the way you can come across.’

      ‘I don’t mean to. I guess cheekiness can edge into cockiness, and as for overprotective, I’m just looking out for you.’

      ‘I appreciate that, Jake,’ she says, nodding, ‘but I find it a bit much, especially when it’s done without asking.’

      ‘Okay, noted. I’ll try not to do that,’ he says stiffly.

      ‘Don’t be like that. But you also called me spoilt at the party, and I didn’t really get it.’

      Flushing, he shoves his hands in his pockets. ‘Sorry. Heat of the moment. I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I don’t always think you realise how lucky you are, and maybe sometimes you take things for granted.’

      ‘In what way?’ She frowns.

      ‘You’ve got a family—’

      ‘With a mum who buggered off, pretty much on my birthday,’ she replies flatly.

      ‘Maybe, but the family you do have protect, love, and care for you. Whereas I have both my parents but—’

      ‘You don’t have what I have,’ she finishes slowly. ‘Oh. I see. I never thought of it like that. I’m sorry. It must be hard.’ She looks sympathetic, reaching a hand out towards him.

      Jake waves her words, and comfort, away. ‘Let’s not get into that.’ He can’t bear her pity. Besides, he’s not that beaten little boy anymore. ‘You were talking about all my worst traits?’

      She laughs, casting him a wry smile. ‘Honestly? It’s not even that. This isn’t easy for me to say, but I’ve been annoyed at you for years for another reason.’

      ‘Really?’ He moves closer. ‘Why?’

      ‘I guess I was just surprised and disappointed that after you left town you never got in touch again. I never got to say thank you for returning Pandora and leaving me the book charm –’ she looks discomfited, and softens her voice kindly ‘– which, by the way, was really nice, but it’s mine and Mum’s thing so I’d rather you didn’t, thank you.’ Her voice hardens, ‘You stayed in touch with Owen after you left and hinted that you did with Grandad too. Then we just ran into each other by chance at the beach party. It’s not like you were looking for me.’

      ‘But I—’ he blurts, before grinding to a halt.

      ‘What?’ she leaps in.

      How can he tell her that all the charms bar one have been from him, when he knows it will break her heart? For the last six years he’s bought her charms based on what Ray’s dropped into conversation about her life, whereas she’s believed her mum sends them. She draws comfort and hope from that belief.

      Now it’s gone on so long he feels trapped by his own lies. If he stops sending them, she’ll be devastated, because it’ll mean no contact from her mum at all and she’ll feel like she’s losing her all over again.

      At last, he mutters, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch. I should have done. I’m not back for long but I promise next time I’m home on leave I’ll look you up. Okay? To be honest, I didn’t think it would matter that much to you.’

      A wave of heat surges up her neck and into her face, mottling her skin. She steps back. ‘It didn’t, don’t worry about it.’ Averting her gaze, she gabbles, ‘Look, I’ve got to run. Mr Strickland will be wondering where I am. Let me grab my insurance details.’

      He watches her dive into the front of her car as he pulls his wallet out. A minute later she’s pressed her details into his hand on a scrappy bit of paper. It’s written in blue pencil and is barely legible. He squints at it, trying to read. The details he’s given her are in neat block writing on the back of a business card someone once gave him, noted down in case of an accident.

      She mouths the insurance company name and number as she reads it. ‘You came well prepared.’

      ‘Maybe Navy life has given me self-discipline and now I prepare in advance.’

      ‘There’s that chip again.’ She moves closer and pretends to brush it off his shoulder, before awkwardly stepping back.

      He laughs, defusing the tension between them.

      ‘Preparing in advance sounds a bit boring to me,’ she says. ‘I’d rather not waste time doing things now that I might not have to worry about doing at all.’ She folds the card in half and shoves it carelessly in her pocket. ‘To be honest, you always struck me as independent, so it doesn’t surprise me you’re organised. I guess you were used to looking after yourself.’ She straightens. ‘Anyway, make sure you tell the insurance company the accident was your fault before heading off again overseas. I could do without having to wait months for this to be sorted.’

      ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’ll call them –’ he raises one eyebrow