Surf School (8 page)

When she looked back up her dad had nodded off, pain screwed into the lines across his face. He re-opened his eyes and smiled wearily, reaching for her hand.

‘Still here, kiddo? Thought you'd have left your grumpy old man by now.'

Tilly smiled sadly, wishing for things to be as they were before, and for the drugs to be switched off so her dad would stop being so mean. ‘Yeah, you're grumpy all right,' she said wearily.

Phil squeezed her hand gently. ‘Til, I know this is a hard time for you, for all of us, but we'll get through it. I just don't want you to take on all my worries. You're just a kid, it's holidays. Go surfing. Have fun.'

Tilly gently threaded her arms around his neck. ‘I just want to help, Dad. I want you home soon.'

But Phil was asleep again so this time she kissed him and left, promising herself she'd work really hard and make him proud.

15 DECEMBER

I decided tonight that if you can't get to the surf, I'll bring the surf to you. Here's your wave of the day from the Surf Gods.

The wave is your favourite blue, icy and sharp. It curls over like a knife scraping across firm butter. Your board's locked into the barrel and you're crouched low, tucked right in, a look of fierce concentration on your face, hand grabbing the rail, left foot forward and toes spread wide across the deck like suckers. Your left arm is so far back it looks dislocated and your left hand's catching the wall so the spray arcs overhead.

But the best part is your face. You're staring down that wave so intently that nothing is going to stop you.

Sorry, I lie.

It's really Sofia Mulanovich and the photo is mesmerising. (Like that? Didn't even have to look up how to spell it.) I've put it on the Marlee Wall of Fame with your face stuck over hers. I'm sure she won't care, she probably gets waves like that ALL THE TIME, whereas your need is greater.

Watch this space, dear surfer, the next set is due to roll in.

Mxx

P.S. If you've found this book, I have been kidnapped by dust mites. In fact, if you find this, you'll know it's time to get out the vacuum cleaner …

T
he king tides that come with every full moon had been and gone before Pink saw Kim again. Though not from lack of effort on her part: Pink stood on her deck, night after night scanning the cars parked along the beach, looking for his rainbow-coloured kombi.

When she did see the van again, she didn't recognise it at first and would probably have walked straight past if she hadn't smelt the distinct clove aroma of Kim's Indonesian cigarettes. She glanced over to see him sitting in the open doorway of his van, a black trilby low on his forehead. As he strummed his guitar, his eyes never stopped moving, assessing the view, and he was watching Pink before she'd even noticed him. She quickly took in his tanned chest, black waistcoat and white yoga pants, his contrast to the locals adding to his exotic
appeal. A nervous fizz set off in her stomach and Pink hesitated, not sure if he remembered her.

‘Hey there,' she called unsurely.

He lifted his fingers in a small wave, the leather bands on his wrist sliding up his arm.

‘Well, well, well, look who it is,' he said finally, resting his arms over his guitar. ‘Didn't recognise you in those big glasses. How's the leg?'

‘Okay.' Pink blushed, tapping her leg to hide her face. ‘You painted the van,' she said, disappointed.

‘Yeah.'

Kim said no more and Pink's confidence vanished. She was about to say goodbye when two policemen appeared. Kim uncoiled his body and grabbed Pink's hand in one quick movement, holding it behind his back as though she had her arm around him.

‘Don't go,' he murmured.

Her heart pounded and even though she'd done nothing wrong, she felt like she had.

‘Hi,' she said to the policemen, forcing a smile.

The policemen nodded, then turned to Kim. Pink tried to slow her breathing. Kim's hand held firmly onto hers. She dared to give it a quick squeeze, a thrill running through her when he responded, realising that he was interested in her after all. She beamed at the police.

‘This your vehicle?' the officers asked Kim.

‘Yup.'

‘Do you have rego papers?'

‘One sec.' He kissed Pink's cheek. ‘Stay here and let me do the talking,' he whispered. His breath tickled her neck but somehow her whole body felt it. She inhaled, watching him lean into his van while one policeman walked away, talking into his radio.

Kim put his arm back around Pink's waist, his thumb gently rubbing her back, making her concentration slide. The other policeman stepped towards them.

‘Where were you on the night of 5 December?'

Kim pulled Pink a little closer. ‘Mmmm, where were we, hon? Was that a Saturday?' Pink felt as though her smile was made from plaster of Paris. It jutted out stiffly and she was sure that if she shifted her jaw it'd crack. With Kim's hand on her back she felt like a ventriloquist's dummy, her head racing with possible answers and a million questions but above all an overriding sense of elation that Kim wanted to be linked with her. She tried to move her jaw to relieve the tension, trying to look thoughtful at the same time. On all the cop shows she'd ever seen the police always scrutinise people for secret signs. Was she giving out secret signs? Could they tell she was lying? Frantically she tried to recall the date he'd just mentioned, but remembering yesterday was a challenge let alone weeks ago.

Kim solved the problem for her.

He slapped his forehead. ‘I remember. We were at your place,' he said to Pink.

Pink laughed. Imagine Kim at her place, chatting to her olds, her dad asking what a healer did, her mother wondering how old he was. ‘Yeah, that's right,' she said. ‘It was my brother's
birthday. We had a bit of a party.' The policeman wrote it down. Kim gave her another squeeze.

‘How old was your brother?' asked the policeman.

The question caught her off guard but she answered with barely a pause, warming to the moment. ‘Twelve.' This was like the lying-to-the-parents game. She'd had plenty of practice at that. ‘Though you wouldn't know it,' she added, getting the hang of her role.

‘So it didn't go too late then?' He nodded at Kim. ‘What time did your guest leave?'

‘Oh …' Kim kept rubbing her back with his thumb and Pink struggled to stay focused. ‘Oh, twelve-ish.' He pushed his thumb hard into her back and Pink stumbled. ‘Maybe later.'

Kim laughed. ‘It was around 3 am, hon.'

‘Three am's late for a twelve-year-old's party,' the policeman said.

Pink rolled her eyes. ‘Well, Damo didn't stay up till 3 – that's just the time we finished up.'

‘That's late for you too,' said the other policeman, handing back Kim's papers.

‘We fell asleep,' Pink said weakly.

The policeman looked at Kim for a long time, not saying anything, and even though Kim looked relaxed, Pink could feel that his hand was clammy.

‘You're not a local are you?' said the policeman finally.

Kim shook his head.

‘Where are you staying in case we need to ask you some more questions?'

‘I'm at my mother's.'

‘Which is?' The policeman took out his notebook.

‘147 Ocean Street.' Kim pointed to a spot behind the officer.

‘That street there on the right.'

‘Okay, thank you.' As they nodded and walked away Kim's body sagged slightly and he stepped backwards, stretching his arms, breathing deeply.

‘Thanks. I owe you,' he said croakily into her ear. Pink's concentration went hazy and she struggled to remember what she wanted to know.

‘What was the date again? And what were you doing?' she asked finally.

He smiled at her, his nose nearly touching hers. ‘I was at your brother's party.'

Pink raised her sunglasses to look him in the eyes. ‘I don't even
have
a brother.'

Kim kissed her softly on the lips and Pink leapt backwards, glancing around. Even if her parents weren't here, someone who knew them wouldn't be far away. ‘Ahh, I've got to go.'

‘Promise me I can take you out later, to thank you.'

‘Okay.' He nuzzled into the base of her neck and Pink pushed him away, embarrassed. ‘Tickles. Okay. Don't do that.' She laughed shakily. ‘Not here.'

‘Hey, Pink!'

She swung around to face Fran, crossing the grass with her board.

‘Oh, Fran, hi.'

Fran smiled at Pink, checked Kim out, then looked back at
Pink. ‘You coming? Tilly's waiting for us – remember?'

‘Bye. Don't forget, we have a date.' Kim waved goodbye.

Pink giggled. ‘When? Where?'

‘Don't worry, I'll find you.'

Fran yanked on Pink's arm so she had to turn away. ‘Pink what are you doing? He's like a million years older than you.' Fran parodied Kim. ‘ “I'll find you” – what is he, a stalker?'

‘He's exotic, he's gorgeous, that's what he is.' Pink floated behind Fran like a balloon on a string. ‘You're just jealous he likes me.'

Fran yanked her arm again. ‘Don't look back, it's
so
lame.'

‘Oh, Fran, stop being the grown up. I'm just having a little fun.'

‘Have fun by all means but not with old guys who've got yellow teeth.'

‘He's only 21. He's not that old.'

Fran shuddered. ‘Well, even so, there's something shifty about him. What did the police want?'

‘Police?'

‘Pink!' Fran nearly yelled, exasperated. ‘The whole beach saw them pull up. Is he in some kind of trouble? He looks like trouble.'

‘No. Of course not. They just wanted to know about a party.' Pink realised that she never did find out what had happened on 5 December but she'd ask next time she saw him.

‘Did you see the way he looked at you?' Fran pulled a face.

‘No. But I saw the way he looked at you.' Pink glared at Fran and gave her the tiniest shove. ‘Race you.' And took off towards the School.

The surf rolled neatly in, picking up height with the outgoing tide. Marlee watched it hungrily, planning her next surf and listening to Shane. By the second week of helping out at the School she'd learned Shane's warm-up speech by heart.

‘There are three things to remember when you take off.' He held up three fingers to the students lying on their boards, paddling sand. ‘Keep your eyes on the direction you're going, keep your weight low and balanced, and don't let go of the board until you're in position.'

Marlee stretched out her aching calf muscle, massaging it as she listened. When Shane got to the bit about surf etiquette she glanced at Kyle, leaning back on his elbows, eyes fixed on the surf.

‘Dropping in is a total no-no,' said Shane. ‘If someone is closer to the inside of the wave than you, it's theirs. Let it go.'

Kyle looked directly at Marlee then, his green eyes crossed, tongue stuck out.

Marlee snorted, hand over mouth, trapping back a laugh, and Shane looked at her impatiently. The three boys near her hadn't stopped talking and laughing since Shane had started his spiel and she knew her lack of attention wasn't helping.

‘Listen up, you guys, I know everyone's surfed a bit before but we're talking about water safety now. It's important.' Shane smiled good-naturedly but Marlee could tell he was annoyed. The two younger boys quietened down but the older boy with sunburned shoulders continued to fidget, his fingers drumming against the board. In the end Shane spoke over him.

When Shane had finished, Marlee grabbed the long cord
attached to her wetsuit zipper and pulled it up as high as she could but it only reached halfway and then refused to budge. She tugged harder.

‘You're never going to forgive me for dropping in on that guy are you?' Kyle was standing behind her, holding the cord. He spoke softly, his lips close to her ear.

‘Maybe.' She smiled, realising that she finally had. ‘Like you care.'

Kyle let go of the cord and the zip whirred upwards. ‘Maybe I do,' he said, running past her.

Marlee dived in, taking a moment to enjoy the coolness of the water before paddling out with a couple of American girls. Kyle nudged past on the other side, nodding out the back.

‘Hey, Marlee, Dad said it's a bit gnarly out there. He wants everyone close to shore where they can have a bit of fun, get their confidence. We'll let them go out further once they get the hang of it.'

Marlee pointed towards the three boys who had been mucking around during Shane's speech. They were already out at the break. ‘Try telling them that. They think that they're the next Kelly Slater.'

‘Well, let's go and round them up. Dad can sort the others out. Race you.' He spun his board around as the older boy caught a wave. The boy was naturally athletic and jumped up straight away.

‘Keep your eyes up,' Marlee yelled encouragingly.

The boy wobbled, finding his balance, then rode past her, a big smile across his face. The other two cheered him on and encouraged, kept paddling out.

‘They're okay. Let's wait for the next set and catch a wave in with them,' Kyle said. His father was always holding students back. He'd done the same to Kyle when he was a grommet.

In the lull between sets Kyle fidgeted with unused energy. ‘Bet you can't do this,' he shouted to Marlee. He leaped upwards, doubled over and dived gracefully into the water.

Marlee took off her leg rope and did an equally graceful backflip off her board, turning 360 degrees to resurface near Kyle.

Kyle was back on his board now. He wiped the water out of his eyes, watching Marlee surface. ‘Is that it?' he teased, diving higher this time.

When Kyle surfaced, Marlee was standing on his board. Hers had been washed into shore. ‘That was totally lame,' she yelled and dived again, high over Kyle's head, then down deep as the first wave of the set powered above. Bubbles exploded around her and she swam leisurely under the wave, the large shadow of a boy's learner board passing overhead.

When she surfaced, Kyle was hidden behind the wave and the two younger boys were clutching onto a board, screaming as a rip quickly sucked them out to sea.

Marlee waved sideways, screaming frantically, ‘Swim across. Swim across the rip.'

But panic had already set in and they flailed their arms, trying to paddle towards her, floundering, wasting precious energy, swallowing water. There wasn't much time.

Marlee swam like she never had before, pushing herself to reach them as soon as she could, hoping Kyle was following
with his board. But as fast as she moved, the rip moved faster and every time she glanced up they'd bobbed further out, their faces pale, arms unable to paddle. She put on a spurt, exhaustion creeping through her own body, and managed to close the gap.

‘Paddle,' she yelled. ‘Paddle towards me.'

Marlee swam again as they inched across the rip towards her, until she lurched at the board, clinging to it. The two boys shivered uncontrollably and Marlee made them lie on the board, all the time watching the waves and talking, catching her breath, talking some more to calm them down.