The Paradise Trap Read Free Page A

Sterling glanced from Edison to Marcus. ‘Guess how many sausages you can fit on this?’
    ‘Umm . . .’ Marcus was confused. He didn’t know if Sterling meant fat sausages or skinny sausages.
    ‘Four?’ Edison hazarded.
    ‘Six!’ his father cried. ‘Six sausages or two steaks!’
    ‘Wow,’ said Marcus.
    ‘Or four chicken drumsticks. Or eight kebabs.’ Sterling smiled down at his invention. ‘You can barbecue anything on this baby.’
    Without another word he departed; the front door banged shut behind his retreating silhouette. Marcus stared after him, open-mouthed, but Edison seemed unfazed. ‘My dad invents things,’ the younger boy volunteered.
    He then guided Marcus up a circular metal staircase, which punched its way through an even sturdier metal ceiling before delivering the two boys into an air-conditioned hallway made of canvas. On one side of the hallway were plastic windows hung with frilly pink curtains. On the other side were a series of hard plastic doors, each with a lightweight aluminium knob.
    ‘That’s my room,’ Edison informed Marcus, pointing at the last door in the row. It was shut. ‘All my games are in there.’
    Marcus nodded. He followed Edison down the hallway, but stopped outside the first open door that they passed.
    ‘Who’s she?’ he inquired, staring at the girl in the room next to Edison’s. She was a black-haired teenager with a jewelled stud in her nose, wearing lots of tattered lycra over very short shorts. Her room was hung with dark, brooding posters; she was sprawled across a velvet beanbag, muttering into a mobile phone.
    ‘That’s my sister,’ Edison declared. ‘Her name is Newton, but we all call her Newt.’
    Marcus thought that Newt looked interesting. She certainly didn’t look like a beach person. ‘Do you think she’ll play a game with us?’ he asked.
    Edison shook his head. ‘Nah. She’s on the phone.’
    Marcus suppressed an impatient sigh. ‘I don’t mean right now , ’ he said, very slowly and clearly. ‘I mean when she gets off the phone.’
    Edison gawped at Marcus. ‘Are you kidding?’ the younger boy scoffed. ‘Newt never gets off the phone.’

5
    PAST AND PRESENT
    ‘. . . A ND SHE NEVER GETS OFF THE PHONE ,’ SAID C OCO , WHO was also talking about Newt. ‘She spends the whole day in her room, chatting or texting. And when she does go out with her friends, half the time she’s on the phone to her other friends!’ Coco began to massage the bridge of her nose, as if she had a headache. ‘I don’t know what to do. It’s as if she can’t talk face to face anymore. She certainly doesn’t talk to me. ’
    ‘At least she has friends,’ Holly replied sadly. ‘Marcus doesn’t seem to. He’s always on his computer, playing games.’
    ‘Oh, he’s probably doing that with his friends,’ Coco assured her in a comforting tone. ‘You can play online games with other people.’
    ‘Yes, but they’re not real friends, are they?’ Holly objected. ‘Not like the friends you and I had. That’s why I brought him to Diamond Beach – because I remember how easy it was to make friends here.’ Her forehead puckered as she stared out the living-room window, which was angled to give anyone sitting on the Huckstepps’ enormous pink couch a perfect view of the ocean. ‘But it’s changed so much,’ she lamented. ‘There are so many people here now.’
    ‘Which is good for Marcus,’ Coco chirped, stroking her fattest, fluffiest cat. ‘With so many people, he’s bound to have a bigger choice of friends.’
    ‘I guess so.’ Holly heaved a weary sigh. ‘The trouble is, even if he does make friends, there’s nothing much to do. You just told me yourself that it’s too crowded to kick a ball around, and too dirty to go swimming. And if there isn’t enough wilderness left for a game of stowaways . . .’ Trailing off, her eyes misty with nostalgia, she allowed herself a wistful little smile. Then she snapped out of her daze,