Weather Weaver by Tamsin Mori

Author:Tamsin Mori
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: YA Fiction, Fantasy, Adventure, Magical, Shetland, Magic, Weather
ISBN: 9781912979660
Publisher: UCLan Publishing
Published: 2021-03-03T00:00:00+00:00

Nineteen - a well-reasoned argument

Grandpa pushed open the curtains and Stella sat up in bed.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s a beautiful day. There’s not a cloud in the sky. Better still, not a cloud in the house,” said Grandpa, waggling his eyebrows.

Stella rubbed her eyes and tried to smile. It was a bit early in the morning for jokes.

“I made you hot chocolate,” said Grandpa, setting a mug on the bedside table.

“Hot chocolate?” she said.

“You used to like it,” he said.

“I still do! I’ve just never had it for breakfast before, that’s all.”

Grandpa was still standing by the bed. He seemed to be waiting for something. Then he glanced at the bedside table. Stella reached to pick up the mug and realised – it was Gran’s puffin mug! The one she’d smashed.

“You mended it!” she exclaimed.

“Nothing a bit of glue couldn’t fix,” he said. “Well, a lot of glue, actually. That was quite a puzzle you left me! But I didn’t want to bin it. I’m fond of it.”

Stella traced the fine lines that criss-crossed the curved surface of the mug. It must have taken him ages. “I’m sorry I broke it,”

she said.

“Not the end of the world,” he said. “It’s given it a bit of history. Now, when I look at it, I’ll think of you as well as your Gran.”

“Of how clumsy I am?” she said, with a small smile.

Grandpa shook his head gently. “You know that’s not what

I meant,” he said. “I meant it’ll remind me of spending time with you.”

Stella smiled.

“Your Gran only wanted the best for you, you know,” said Grandpa.

The smile dropped off her face and she rearranged the blanket, so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “She was still wrong.”

“We all get things wrong,” said Grandpa. “And I know you’re angry with her right now. But try to remember that she loved you. More than anything.”

Stella didn’t answer.

Grandpa prodded her knee and smiled.

“I’ll try,” she said.

She blew on the hot chocolate and took a sip. It was dark and bitter and made her tongue shrivel up.

“Good?” said Grandpa.

“Mm, thank you,” she said.

As soon as he’d gone, she put the mug down and wiped her tongue on her sleeve. It always used to be Gran who made the hot chocolate. Grandpa might need some tips.

She knelt up on the bed and looked out of the window. The view outside was bright and clear – no hint of yesterday’s fog. The sky was a wide stretch of blue. No clouds.

No clouds at all . . .

Stella’s heart clenched – she’d left Nimbus outside. All night. On his own.

The metal handle of the window was gritty with rust, but when she leant on it, it turned with a reluctant screech. The window got stuck on the warped windowsill, but the gap was just wide enough to poke her head through.

“Nimbus?” she called softly.

Tiny white flags of bog cotton danced in the breeze and every blade of grass seemed extra sharp, as though determined to stay in focus after yesterday.

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