Seashells By The Seashore

By Kate Sophie Matthews

The story of Amelia, an orphaned South American street child, who tries to make a living selling seashells to tourists on the beach. She is sure she has a bright destiny linked to a mysterious castle. She tries to help all the other beach children, and makes some good friends. In the end her kindness pays off.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Sophie Matthews
• Release date: Oct 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311908384

Kate Sophie Matthews

I am a film graduate who enjoys all kinds of creative writing. I have five children aged 11 - 22 and live in London. Any enquiriesmailto: [e-mail]

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Seashells by the seashore

Kate Sophie Matthews

Published by Kate Sophie Matthews at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Kate Sophie Matthews

Smashwords edition license notes

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Chapter 1

Amelia floated on her back in the ocean. She had nearly cried enough tears to fill it. It was evening, and the sun slowly going down made the sea glint red. She wished that the sea was what it looked like: tomato soup. She would love some soup. She was so hungry, but it just tasted of salt. Here she was, two days after her tenth birthday, with no one to look after her, and only the ocean’s soothing waves to ease the pain of this.

A pretty cinnamon skinned South American girl, she had come to the beach with Aunt Flo, an old blind woman who sold candles and matches to people who could not afford electric, who lived in an old red velvet armchair on the side of the road. She liked no one, but had agreed to Amelia’s grandmother’s dying wish that she would bring Amelia to West Beach. She had said that there would be plenty to eat on the beach. She said she would have fun on the beach. It would take away the sadness. Amelia had asked her where she would sleep? Who would look after her? Her grandmother who had looked after her had died leaving her with no-one. She had always said that she was her grandmother and that her parents were away, but she had heard from a neighbour that her grandmother had just found her on the street and taken her in. She had asked her grandmother if this was true, and her grandmother said she knew Amelia was hers from her eyes and the bangle she had on. She would not answer questions at all.

Before she died, her grandmother had not made much sense. Amelia had tried to ask her what would happen to her, if she could stay with this or that neighbour in the shanty town where they lived, but her grandmother had refused, saying these neighbours had bad sons and uncles in gangs that Amelia would end up getting hurt. She had said lots of things about West Beach where she had grown up, telling her about a rich man called Don Oro who used to bring her flowers. She told her to go to the beach to meet a Prince and find the luck of her ancestors. She had given Amelia the bangle she had found her with, with a carved hummingbird on saying to keep it, through it her people would know her, and that she would find her fortune.

‘There is no death on the beach, no violence, you must go.’ She had implored. Amelia understood as in their area children and young people often died as a result of violence and neglect.

Amelia pushed the bangle up her arm, hoping that it would not come off in the sea. She had burned in the hot South American sun all day long. Aunt Flo had not given her any money, she was too poor. She had spent the last of Amelia’s grandmother’s money on the bus fair to the beach. Aunt Flo said as an abandoned child, Amelia would have more luck on the beach than in the city, she would be able to eat fish and never go hungry. The people on the beach loved children not like in the city. There were also many rich tourists who would give her money and maybe take her to America! Amelia was glad to leave the city, it was dirty and the people were mean. As soon as her grandmother had died her shack was given to someone else, and there were lots of big men pushing her out, untwining her hands from clinging on to her grandmother’s bedstead. Crying, she had run to Aunt Flo who had a little shack shop selling candles and matches. Thinking about how poor Aunt Flo was, Amelia was grateful that she had bought her to the beach; somehow it was hopeful; it smelt so beautiful and fresh. There were no high buildings that blocked out the sun or thundering traffic like in the city. Maybe she was not alone, and her parents were still alive. She knew her mother would want her if she was living somewhere in this world. Amelia had no idea where she was, but had a dream of picking beautiful flowers with her in a meadow.

Amelia swam back to shore and put on her dress, but someone had stolen her shoes. She got very angry and cursed about it out loud. The sun got very hot, and the sand burnt your feet. Now even more people would look down on her as a beggar. It had been bad enough today. Aunt Flo had left her, her cheap bright red dress disappearing out of sight. Amelia begged her to stay, saying she could be her mother, thinking this would make her pleased, as she was such a nice child, but she had kissed her teeth, and said the ocean was Amelia’s new mother, she didn’t want no child. It was the first time that Amelia had been to the ocean, and it hypnotised her so that she was beyond wanting to stay with Aunt Flo, or caring about the precariousness of her situation. She believed she would be happy and find luck more than thinking things would go wrong. She was proud to now think of herself as from West Beach, rather than the shanty town everybody was ashamed of.

She tried to make herself happy watching some children play. They asked her to join them playing ball, and she did. Then their mother came, and asked her where her family was. Amelia just shook her head and said it was just her. The boy’s mother had then made tutting sounds and told her to go, smoothing her son’s head and telling him not to play with the abandoned. ‘Abandoned,’ she heard this word over and over again. She wandered near the cafes at the side of the beach where it met the road ,and had seen a bit of Pizza left on one of the restaurant tables but when she had reached for it, the waiter said,

‘Move away abandoned,’ and hit her with the cloth he had tucked into his apron.

She sat down on the sea’s edge wondering when her people were coming. A little girl came and talked to her as they bathed their toes. She had on a swimsuit with a big pink flower on and a matching beach robe. She must have been from a rich family, but she was too young to have that hard look that rich children have towards the poor in their country. She was very smiley with patchy skin that looked like a cake with cinnamon scattered on top. She asked Amelia what was on the other side of the big ocean, and if there were mermaids in the ocean. She then lunged into the sea in all her clothes shouting she was going to find the mermaids. When it became clear that she couldn’t swim, Amelia dragged her out. The girl’s mother ran over. Amelia hoped that she would be pleased with her for rescuing the girl, and buy her an ice-cream, instead the mother shouted at her,

‘Get away from my child abandoned girl. Don’t come anywhere near her! You see you nearly drowned her in the sea!’

Amelia protested and told her what had happened hoping the girl would back her up, but the girl just cried and the mother just shouted. Amelia turned and walked away. The sea was like a turquoise silk curtain; the sky like a lake from your dreams; the sand was like a soft inviting bed, but the people all seemed to be twisted and full of hate. She wondered why they called her’ abandoned,’ and sat down and dug for stones. Two bays away was an old castle; its ancient turrets and towers stuck out of the sea’s mist. Maybe that was where the prince her grandmother spoke of lived and he would come for her. She wondered how you got there, and if it took long to walk. While she was digging she found a beautiful shell with a pearly blue inside. She held it up to the light wishing she could remember where her parents were, and what she was doing here. She was oddly happy as the shell was the most beautiful object she could ever want. It could be on a mermaid’s crown in the depth of the ocean. It would look amazing on a mantelpiece. She had never owned anything so fine. She put it in the pocket of her dress and continued digging. With the stones, she made a picture of a mermaid giving it a kind smile. It was a symbol she made from deep within her heart to tell people they should be kinder. She found an old tin cup and put it down near the picture. She would go and collect sea water in it and pour them on the stones to make them shine. She got so absorbed in the mermaid that she didn’t notice an old woman walk up to her.

‘Nice picture abandoned girl, here,’ said the old woman and threw a handful of coins into the tin. Amelia winced at being called abandoned, but was glad that the lady liked her picture. She thought she had dropped the coins and offered them back. The Lady, walking off, told her that the coins were for Amelia for making a nice picture. Amelia smiled. Now she could buy herself something. The Lady must have thought she was trying to collect money. She looked around and realised there were a lot of children with cups out selling different things. Nearest to her was a little boy selling water. It wasn’t the water the rich families drank; it was from the tap in old bottles. The tap was far away at the start of the beach and many people couldn’t be bothered to walk to it. The boy would gather old bottles and then carry them to fill them up and bring them back in a sack. She saw him hunting for the caps of the bottles near to where they had been dropped. He needed the caps to carry them. She saw some rich children wind him up by following him and finding the caps, and running off with them, or biting them out of shape. Amelia watched him sell the water. She had gone to the tap herself but as she was feeling weak going without food, except for some half eaten bread rolls she had found near a bin, she went up to him. He was about twelve and was wearing some shorts made of old jeans tied up with plaited rope. His shoes were plimsolls which had holes in the fronts where his toes stuck out. The once white soles were grey and greasy looking. He had on a necklace like a friendship bracelet of red and green string twine.

‘How much is the water?’ asked Amelia

‘It’s a five coin. Are you abandoned?’

‘I don’t know. Why do people call me that?’

‘You are all alone and your hair is messy’

Amelia didn’t know why but she started to cry.

‘Somebody took my shoes. I was swimming and somebody took my shoes. I don’t have a comb. My Aunt Flo didn’t leave