She laughs across to me, her sound floating like a ribbon on the wind.

"Come in further, Gemma. The waters fine!"

The water is not fine. The water has never been fine.

"Come on, Gem. Come, my Gemma darling." She laughs again, and I wonder at why I like this girl. Then I hear a gasp and know instantly what has happened.

"Felicity! Felicity!" my voice is savage and wild as I scream her name. But instead of hearing the resounding silence that I had expected, I feel a cushioned thud fall in the form of a kick to my naked shin, and a cold and dripping hand clamped to my mouth.

"You blasted fool, Gemma Doyle. Now they definitely now it's us."

Who? What? Surely there is some mistake. Surely this cannot be my Fee holding me tight, this must be some watery demon planning to carry me back to the depths. I thrash, my mind atumble and panic flashing in my eyes. And then I hear the voice and everything is alright because he is back and I am safe and he is so soft and gentle and powerful still, he held me tight and whispered into the curls of my hair words that I can never forget, words which have no meaning and yet mean everything to me.

My gypsy.

"Gemma? Gemma, is that you? Are you aright? What on earth are you doing?"

"Is it your gypsy boy, Gemma?" Felicity whispers into my ear, and I nod, dumbly. He who I have not seen for weeks. He who has to stumble upon me at this hour, in this place, wearing this amount of clothing.

Blast and damn it.

Felicity does not push me forward, for she is far too powerful to owe our escape to me. She swims elegantly back to the shallows, and stands with more dignity than I could muster. I can hear Kartik murmuring his apologies, and I know he is blushing and averting his eyes.

"Look at me."

Silence.

"Look at me, gypsy."

Silence. I am struggling in the water, trying to reach them, trying to stop this happening.

"I said Look. At. Me."

"Felicity, stop this!" I know I am sounding hysterical, but she is doing what I did not believe her capable of. My body is perfectly fine, but hers is whiter than the moon, pale and perfect and porcelain fresh. Her hair reflects the moonlight back into my eyes, and I know her grey orbs are boring into his flesh. I know he will love her, and I know that I could never compare to my Felicity.

"What is this? A gypsy who will refuse to take advantage of an innocent little schoolgirl? Never. Surely not."

"I am here to speak to Gemma."

"Gemma is naked. And drowning at the moment, it sounds like. So you will have to talk to me."

"Felicity, stop it, stop it, please, oh god, please stop it." My voice is half submerged in bubbles and the water is lapping the tears from my face like an overenthusiastic puppy, but I care for none of this. He is my gypsy, and he will not be hers.

"Gypsy, tell me, what is your name."

"Kartik."

"Hmm. Kartik. Would you like to swim?"

"No."

"I am sure that you are lying. Come swim with me, and play with me, gypsy boy."

"I wish to speak to Gemma."

"Gemma doesn't want you. She never has."

And it is these words that cause the ice to fill my lungs.

"Felicity, oh god, Fee, that is a lie, stop lying, you are lying, stop, stop-"

And then she turns to me, and I am confused, as for a moment, on that hateful face, with the cold grey eyes and mocking smile, on that face coated in malice and dripping with spite, just for an instant, I could swear I saw a flash of tears.

But I must be mistaken, for Felicity is marble and marble never cries.

"Gemma?"

"Yes?"

"I need to talk to you."

But the tears of Felicity's face make me pause, because I love her and I need her to be happy.

"Come and swim, Kartik. The water's fine."