Surf School (2 page)

W
arm foam rushed up the sand and over Marlee's and Tilly's feet, the bubbles collapsing on their pink toenail polish. Brilliant shards of orange light broke up the cloud, the colour floating across the sea. Tilly pointed to a little wave, glassy and green, curling nicely to both the left and the right. She nodded to Marlee and together they threw their boards into the shallows and paddled out. Fran followed them, and, a flying leap and loud yell later, so did Pink. They'd opted for the small wave away from their usual break, the one that attracted the aggro and weekend surfers. And it had paid off. They had the break all to themselves.

Marlee picked up the pace, paddling fast towards the incoming set, spinning her board around and taking the first wave of the season. Tilly watched her charge down the face
before turning back to the approaching set, carefully picking a wave and lining up her board.

Fran took in a long, slow breath of salty air, her fingers trailing through the water on either side of her board. She winced at Pink's piercing shriek. It carried over the crash of the surf and up the near-empty beach. Pink had caught her first wave of the season and was standing at its peak. Bit by bit, like a freeze-frame photo, she began to disappear: bottom torso, upper torso, flying hair, fists raised high, then salt spray, and finally the top of the wave rolled downwards wrapping over her, flashing glimpses of sand, flesh and pink bikini.

Fran let the next set roll beneath her, focusing on her breathing as the sun burned its way upwards, searing the ocean-facing windows gold. The heat was already nipping her shoulders.

Marlee and Tilly threw their boards into the rip alongside the break and rode it back out towards Fran like a towrope.

‘I love it when we all surf together,' Marlee grinned. ‘It always feels like holidays.'

‘Well it just about
is
holidays. I've missed you, Marls. It still feels strange being at school without you.' Tilly breathed deeply, trying to keep up as Marlee turned her board, neatly slicing across the rip. ‘Geez, slow down, I'm so sore I can hardly paddle.'

Marlee, her face already tanned from the spring sun, laughed but slowed until Tilly pulled up closer. ‘I never said training wouldn't hurt. Anyway, one more week until the end of school and then we'll have even more time to train.'

Tilly clutched Marlee's foot. ‘C'mon, give me a tow,' she panted.

Marlee struggled with the extra weight but pushed herself to keep up the pace. ‘Cut your hair, that'll make you go faster. How many pro surfers do you see with hair down to their bum?'

Tilly released her grip and Marlee streaked effortlessly away, then spun her board around and charged the small right. Tilly splashed an arc of spray across Fran's stomach and Fran tensed, opening an eye to check her out.

‘Ohhh! It was so peaceful, but that was never going to last, was it?' she said, rolling into the water to wake herself up.

‘It'll never be quiet while Pink's out here,' said Tilly, sitting up on her board and watching Pink paddle back out.

Marlee was on her way back too, passing Pink and ducking under the next wave. She pointed behind Tilly to a decent-sized set steaming towards them. ‘Share wave!' Marlee yelled and paddled over quickly.

They lined up side by side. Marlee went right, Tilly left, skating along the lip, then flicking her board back trying to spin a full 360 degrees. As the wave sank beneath her she dropped back onto her board, paddling towards Marlee.

‘I love watching you surf,' Marlee said. ‘No-one around here surfs like you.'

Tilly pulled off her white crocheted hat and wrung it out, her plait falling, wet and heavy, down the length of her back. ‘Is that good?' she asked, unsure. ‘I don't exactly have all the right technical moves for the judges.'

‘Of course it's good,' Marlee reassured her. ‘You always stand out. Believe me, that's good.'

Pink waded through the shallows towards them. ‘C'mon let's get breakfast, I'm starving.'

‘But we only just got in,' Marlee said. Tilly lingered, reluctant to get out.

‘Not really. It's been ages and the surf's tanking. Who feels like corn pancakes or smoothies and hot chips? My shout.' Pink marched up the beach, carelessly dragging her new board by its fin.

Tilly chased after her. ‘No, I'm buying today. Remember? Dad buys breakfast on our First Surf Day. Besides, you're always buying, Pink.'

‘Sure, if you want to.' Pink dropped her wet board onto the sand. ‘Who'd have thought one surf class would've kept us surfing together seven years later?'

Their towels stretched across the sand in front of the Surf School like a big flag. Pink snatched up her towel and ran towards the sheltered side of the club house. She leaned against the sun-warmed wall and dried off. The others followed, rubbing the goosebumps off their skin.

Half an hour later they sat huddled together on the beach, hoodies pulled up and towels around their waists, sipping hot chocolate and eating pastries. Even though it was still early, the beach had crackled to life: walkers and joggers pounded the path along the waterfront; an endless stream of cars pulled into the car park, some backing out a few minutes later when the occupants decided to try another beach. Parents with small
kids set up umbrellas and eskies for the day and the Surf School sign went onto the footpath to attract customers.

‘Here, happy summer,' Marlee said, spinning a CD to each of them like a frisbee. ‘Are we getting too old to keep doing the present thing? Maybe this should be our last year …'

‘No way!' Pink cut her off. ‘You're never too old for presents and it's fun to celebrate the day we all met.' Pink waved her Island Breeze shopping bag, wriggling with excitement. ‘Oh, I so hate being the centre of attention,' she laughed and stuck her hand slowly into the bag before pulling out a stylish brown one-piece with a halter-neck for Fran, who raised her eyebrows at the sleek racing machine – it was far more self-assured than the simple black two-piece she normally wore.

Fran ran the rich brown fabric through her hands, checking the stitching, admiring the detail. ‘Thanks, Pink. You're so lucky. I wish my parents owned a surfwear brand. I could design clothes and jewellery for their shops.'

‘Well maybe one day you can, Fran. Hey that rhymes!' Pink tossed a costume to Marlee. ‘For you, Marlee Rose.'

‘Thanks, Pinkie.' Marlee caught the bright floral shorts and top, twirling them on her finger and smiling broadly at Pink.

Tilly clapped her hands at the aqua bikini trimmed with lime green – her two favourite colours. ‘I was saving up to buy this – how'd you know?' She hugged Pink. ‘So, what did you get?'

Pink dived into the bag, pulling out two tiny slips of black lycra that barely covered the palm of her hand, then grabbed one of the straps to pull the pieces apart.

‘Woah!' Marlee laughed. ‘That is so not there. I can't believe Christie would let you wear that.'

‘She wouldn't.' Pink pulled back her blonde hair and held the tiny top against her ample chest. ‘Mum brought me home a black one-piece with a built-in bra! She said it'd be slimming.' Pink chuckled. ‘But when she went overseas I took it back to the shop and changed it.'

‘Hey, I've made presents too.' Fran reached into her basket, the tiny bells on her bracelet giving a shimmery tinkle. She pulled out a thin strip of leather thonging. On it a flat glass bead glinted in the hot morning sun, flashing the deep blue-green of the winter ocean with swirls of whitewater through the centre.

Marlee gasped as she caught it. ‘It's like the ocean's trapped inside. Thanks, Franipani.'

Fran passed an anklet with four tiny glass ladybirds on it to Tilly. Their backs were shiny red with tiny black dots. And, for Pink, an anklet with soft pink beads, far more subtle than the raging hot pinks she tended to go for. When Fran laid it against Pink's skin, the colour was perfect.

‘I love this, Pani.
Mwa Mwa
.' Pink kissed both Fran's cheeks. ‘You should be selling these.'

Fran's face lit up. ‘Maybe I will, one day.' There were flashes of white as Fran's last anklet slowly untwisted. ‘And this one is mine.' She tied it against her rich brown skin so the buttery yellow frangipanis sat at the top of her foot.

‘Oh no!' Tilly leapt up, flicking sand over the last pastry. ‘Back in a sec.' She ran around the club house into the Surf School. Phil, her dad, was on the phone.

‘Hi, Shane.' Tilly called to the instructor lathering his face in sunscreen. ‘Busy today?'

‘You could say that,' Shane said dryly, reaching for his wetsuit. ‘Not only has Donald Trump here just ordered all new equipment but he's put an ad in every surf magazine he can spell the name of.' He winked at Tilly. ‘Next he'll be working out a way to make the waves come in faster.'

Tilly grinned. Phil had talked about expanding the school so many times that she figured he'd never really do it. As he finished the call, Tilly read his notes – new boards and rashies were on order, there was a website to set up and computer lessons to take. Tilly drew a star at the top of the page.

‘You're really going to do it, Dad!'

Phil hung up. ‘Sure am,' he said proudly, giving her a hug. ‘I'm taking the plunge big time, Til. Everything's lined up to arrive next week ready for the new season. Just gotta set up the web page and … guess what?' He waggled his mobile at her. ‘Just quit the day job.'

‘Er, don't you mean, night job?'

‘That's the one. It's official. I'm no longer a waiter.' He rubbed his hands together. ‘I've wanted to do that for years. It feels so good!' He swung Tilly around, dancing in the small open space near the board racks. ‘By the end of the summer, this school's going to be the biggest on the coast.'

‘Sounds good.' Tilly spotted the camera peeping out of Phil's bag. ‘Hey, Dad, can I borrow the camera?'

Phil looked protectively at his brand new Nikon. ‘Welllll, it's s'posed to be just for school use.'

‘Oh come on, Dad. I'll look after it. Anyway, I can take some pics for the website.'

The phone rang, and as Phil turned to pick it up Tilly seized the camera.

‘Thanks, Dad, I'll have it back soon. Promise,' she called back to him.

‘Hey, Tilly,' he yelled. ‘I …'

‘I love you too.' She blew him a kiss and kept moving, sticking two fingers in her mouth and giving a loud shrill whistle. When the girls turned, she snapped her first photo.

‘Unreal!' Marlee smiled. ‘You finally talked your dad into it!'

They stuck their feet inwards creating a circle and Tilly took some photos, then scanned the beach. Perfect. She pointed the camera at the three boys walking towards her. Her brother Sam with Kyle, Jamie and Marnie, the surfing wonder dog, were walking back from the surf. ‘Smile!' she called out putting them in the frame.

Sam smiled and flashed a peace sign, Kyle scowled and gave her the finger and Jamie was too busy looking at Pink to notice. Tilly shook her head.
That boy's got it bad
, she thought.

She turned back to her friends. ‘My present is recording all the things that happen this summer so we remember it forever.'

3 DECEMBER

I just tried to walk down our front steps to the garden and my legs nearly gave way! They are sooooo tight and sore I can't believe it AND I could eat everything in sight. Just a shame no-one in my family is really into cooking because, much as I hate to agree with you, the takeaway has to go, otherwise I'll never shake the love handles.

Got a new bag of clothes from Island Breeze today. There's more stuff here than I'm ever going to wear so how about you come over and grab some stuff and check out our webpage?

Tilly

Boardies and tops are great – thanks. I just picked off all the Island Breeze tags so that I'm not sullying (like that word? Some poet in English today) their wonderful name with the likes of me. HEY! Before you start the ‘Don't think like that' lecture, I'm jokin'! Seriously. I'm glad they sponsor you but if they won't sponsor me I sure ain't promoting them.

Wave from the Surf Gods
: it's just after sun up. The waves are rolling in nice and steady, the light is streaking across the water. Everyone's wrestling in the lineup but just as I paddle out, a wave comes right at me, nice and hollow, a green-blue that changes as the sun catches it and before anyone can get near I'm on it, paddling fast, jumping up and charging the face as it curls over until I'm wrapped in green and blue, a tiny peephole of beach out the end. And when it feels like it's gone on forever I'm spat out the end, heart pumping.

Marlee

I
t took a while for Tilly to pull herself out of the fogginess of sleep but the persistent knocking on the door didn't stop.

‘I'm sick of you guys. It's the middle of the night. You can't go surfing yet. Go home.'

She yanked open the door and then pushed at the screen door, noticing that her father had left the porch light on. It cast a feeble glow in the early dawn light. She flicked back her hair, expecting to see Jamie, but stared uncomprehendingly at the two police officers who stood there.

‘Sorry to wake you,' the young policewoman said. ‘Do you mind if we come in?'

Tilly stepped aside to let the officers walk into the living room. They sat on the lounge and Tilly perched on an armchair opposite.

‘Is your father Phil Hoye?'

Tilly nodded, tears immediately filling her eyes, her lungs inflated until she thought they would burst. She braced herself for what was coming.

‘I'm afraid we have some bad news,' the policewoman said gently.

Tilly's breath rushed out in one long word: ‘Nooooooooooooo.'

And then Sam was there, scratching his stomach, squinting at the police. ‘What's going on?' He pulled on a sweatshirt, leaning against Tilly's armchair.

The faces of the officers were sympathetic. ‘Your father's been in an accident. We don't have many details at this stage, just that he was riding his bike and was struck by a car. He's at North Shore Hospital.'

‘Is he okay?' Tilly's throat felt so tight she had to force the words out and even then the officer leaned closer to hear her.

The policewoman took her time closing her notebook. ‘We don't know much more, but we'll take you there. Do you want to get dressed?'

‘No, we're ready,' said Sam, getting up. ‘Let's go.'

When they hit the highway the policeman flicked on the siren and as the car screamed towards the hospital the policewoman told them what she could. ‘Your father was riding a bicycle along Farrar Road at about 3 am when he was hit by a car at a roundabout. The car kept driving. We have several witnesses who heard the accident and came to help but no-one saw the vehicle.'

Tilly laid her forehead against the front seat, its coolness calming her down.

‘What kind of person hits someone and drives away?' Sam asked.

The policeman turned the car into the emergency unit of the hospital. ‘We don't know but we'll find out. There's always someone who knows something.'

As soon as the auto doors hushed open a sickly cocktail of decay, floor polish and overcooked food curled over Tilly like smoke, carrying a fresh wave of memories of her mother. At first the smell had been background to laughter, and her mother's determined humming through chemo, but as her mother had become trapped in her bed, the hospital smell gradually overpowered everything.

Suck it in
, Tilly told herself defiantly. The hospital was a twenty-four hour twilight zone of fluorescent lights, squeaking gurneys, shiny floors and subdued drama. She clicked her teeth together, focusing on the policewoman's shoes in front, reading the signs to Intensive Care, until she couldn't fight the smell anymore and ran for the toilets, hand across her mouth.

The sour taste of vomit lingered on Tilly's breath, her legs danced on springs, skittish, unsteady. Sam took her hand in his, firm and cool.

‘C'mon, Til, deep breaths.'

She held on to her brother tightly as the plastic doors swept open, pushing them into the ward where a doctor and nurse walked towards them.

Marlee rubbed zinc into her chapped lips, glancing along the beach to look one last time for Tilly. They hadn't even been
training for a week and already Tilly was turning up late. Annoyed, Marlee threw her board onto the water. It landed with a meaty
thwack
, her body three seconds behind it, then she was up and paddling, all business. After waiting around for Tilly she only had time for two waves or she'd be late for school. And no-one in their right mind was ever late for Crowley's class.

This early, the world looked freshly showered and the air shimmered, slightly hazy with salt. Waves curled into a good left-hander with only a few people dotting the break. A guy she didn't know stood up unsteadily, barely hanging on as he dropped down the wave, a big dog grin on his face.

Marlee's body relaxed. Just being in the water made her bad mood ebb away.
He's hooked
, she thought, smiling to herself. Encouraged, his mate paddled to the take-off zone, lining up for the next wave. Even before she saw him, Marlee could sense Kyle moving in. He was lightning fast and intense. Kyle eyeballed the learner, annoyed that he was about to catch the two footer lining up perfectly on the bank. The one with Kyle's name on it. Kyle thought they all had his name on them.

As the learner paddled into the little gem, Kyle dropped in, aiming his board straight at the boy, startling him so he wobbled and then fell heavily, munched under the white water while Kyle took over the wave, his face smug.

Marlee noticed with surprise his widening chest, the strength in his arms. He looked capable of catching as many waves as he wanted. So why take one off a little kid?

The boy resurfaced spluttering, and Marlee picked up the
next wave, angling her board straight at Kyle, flicking it away at the last moment, enjoying his momentary flash of surprise when he thought her board was going to connect. It was only then that she caught sight of Evelyn, Fran's mother, paddling by and felt ashamed she'd let her anger get the better of her. Evelyn shook her head and smiled, and Marlee flicked off, joining her for one more wave.

Pink burst through her bedroom door trailing socks, shoes, hat, bag and hairbrush. ‘Bye, Dad. Tell Mum to call me tonight. I haven't spoken to her since she got to Hawaii.'

Her father, Mitch, looked her up and down and kissed her cheek. ‘I'm sure that expensive ladies college we send you to would be thrilled to know you get dressed at the local bus stop.'

‘Ha ha,' Pink grunted through the bread roll in her mouth. She backed out the front door and dived across the road in front of a car then ran to the beach. Maybe if she'd left a little earlier, or if her hat hadn't slipped over her eyes slightly, she might've seen the dog trotting behind its owner, or the lead attaching one to the other. But she didn't and Pink's last-minute leap to avoid the dog and leash failed miserably. She was soon sprawled on the grass, bag, clothes and breakfast scattered all around her.

Perched cross-legged on the seat she was almost lying under was a guy, about twenty with wild brown dreadlocks held at bay with a wide aqua band. An acoustic guitar rested on his lap.

‘Nice of you to drop by,' he said.

Pink frantically pulled the hem of her uniform down and sat up.

‘Very athletic, that jump.' His eyes were faintly mocking and Pink decided he was teasing. She blushed on top of the last blush, wincing as she put weight on her leg.

‘You're hurt?' he said, concerned, and Pink, thrilled to be distracted from going to school, gave him a wide-eyed, pathetic look. ‘Sit down.' He helped her to the bench then knelt down, his hands squeezing her calf. ‘Does this hurt?'

Pink nodded, wincing for real. ‘Are you a doctor?'

He shook his head, his dreadlocks shifting like faded brown felt. He smelt of incense and clove cigarettes. ‘Nah, I'm a healer.'

‘Cool.' Pink was impressed. Did that make him super smart? ‘Do you have, like, a clinic here, or something?' she asked, noticing a jagged scar running down from the corner of his left eye. ‘I've never seen you around the beach before.'

He squinted, assessing her. ‘Know everyone at Diamond Beach, do you?'

‘Pretty much,' Pink said. ‘I've lived here all my life, my parents too. Not many people here I don't know.'

The guy rocked back on his heels, arms around his legs. He had a dazzling smile, Pink decided, a dazzling smile and blue eyes that went on forever. ‘Well, Miss Know Everyone, I travel a fair bit, chase the summer – Bali, Thailand. I lived in the Maldives for a couple of summers in a hut on the beach, caught fish for dinner and cooked it in a fire on the sand. It was pretty idyllic.'

He smiled wistfully at Pink, who imagined herself following the summer, living on a beach with someone like him, no
parents making decisions for her, no school. ‘So, why would you leave that to come back here?' she asked.

‘My mother's sick, I came to see her.' He nodded at Pink's leg. ‘It's just bruised. You'll be fine.'

Pink dived quickly to gather her phone, shoes and socks. ‘Well, thanks. Um, see you down the beach maybe,' she said hopefully.

His sharp blue eyes were still appraising her. ‘You look like the kind of girl who'd like a bit of adventure. Am I right?'

Pink met his gaze. ‘Yeah, I'm up for most things.'

He nodded. ‘Want to take a ride? Have some fun? Got my kombi right here.'

Pink hung on his deep voice, the slow drawl of his words, tempted to say yes, take the fork in the road towards adventure, skip another day off school. She glanced homewards and saw her dad on the deck having his breakfast, like he did everyday at this time.

‘Er, maybe another day. Great kombi. Did you paint it?'

Along one side a blue mountain peak broke through pink cloud. A striped wave with a fluffy lip rolled across the front door leading to an undersea world filled with octopuses, stars and bananas. ‘I've never seen a van like this ever. It's like it's telling a story.'

‘Me and a friend did it.' He reached inside for a hat and Pink followed the drawings around the van, snapping photos with her phone. There were even sea creatures on the hubcaps. ‘Shame about this.' She pointed her phone at the scraped hubcap where several creatures had once lived.

‘Hey, what're you doing?' His voice was suddenly sharp. In a couple of quick steps he was before her, eyes glittering, cold.

Confused, Pink shrank back, quickly putting the phone behind her back. ‘Stress less,' she laughed shakily, grabbing her bag. ‘It's only a photo.'

‘Sorry.' He backed off. ‘It's just that my friend is trying to patent the design. He's very touchy about the whole thing. Give me the phone,' he coaxed, ‘and I'll delete the photos.'

Pink chewed her bottom lip stubbornly. ‘S'okay. I can do it myself.' She shoved the phone down her bra. ‘See you round. Not,' she muttered to herself as she turned away.

‘I can't believe I didn't notice it before.' The guy darted towards Pink but she kept moving until he jumped in front of her, his arms following the outline of her body, eyes wide, disbelieving. ‘You have the most
incredible
aura.'

‘I do?' Pink had no idea what an aura was but something incredible about her couldn't be all bad. Wait till she told her mother.

‘It's so rich, I've never seen such an intense colour.'

‘What colour is it?' Pink didn't dare move in case she pushed it away, but glanced sideways, trying to catch a glimpse of it. ‘And what's it do?'

‘Nothing. It's a reflection of your wisdom and spirituality. And yours is indigo, the deepest indigo I've ever seen. Do you dream a lot?'

Pink gave a long, luxurious sigh of recognition. ‘All the time.' At least now her friends might listen when she told them her dreams.

‘Write them down, won't you?' He put his hands into the prayer position and bowed slightly. ‘
Namaste
. I'm Kim.'

‘Jasmine, but my friends call me Pink,' she said, charmed by his bow.

‘Well have a fun day, Pink, I'll be thinking about you.' He flashed his dazzling smile again, eyes warm. ‘Don't forget to delete those photos. That'll make me real happy.' He pulled his straw hat down low and Pink became distracted by the whiteness of his teeth, the tantalising shadow of bristle where the cord of his hat followed the edge of his chin. Her heart beat a little faster.