MEET ME
AT CRESCENT HEAD
KAITLYNN CLARKSON
CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
AUTHOR BIO
REQUEST FOR REVIEWS
Copyright © 2019 Kaitlynn Clarkson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic and mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
Disclaimer
Although the places described in this story are real, it is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any event, either historical or recent, or any person, living or deceased, is completely coincidental.
Cover Illustration by Amanda Porto
Book formatting by Opeyemi Ikuborije
Editing by Kate Cox
Clarkson Publishing
PO BOX 4037
Moorland 2443
NSW Australia
CHAPTER 1
Greg Lockyer grinned as he ran onto the sand, surfboard tucked under his arm. The wind ruffled his short, sandy hair and his freckled face was alive with anticipation. His own large footprints were the only ones on the beach this morning: What a bonus! His blue eyes sparkled with anticipation as he relished the thought of having the waves all to himself. The chill air of dawn wrapped around him and the sun was about to pop over the horizon. There was nothing better than being out on the water at this time of day and he couldn’t wait to get out there.
He splashed into the water, giving a cursory grimace as the cool water surrounded his body. Then the warmth of the wetsuit kicked in and he gave it no more thought. He was looking for the right wave as he paddled out; the breakers curved in front of him, smooth and inviting, tempting him to start too soon.
A moment later, he was in position as the water began to build behind him. In a flash, he was on his feet, skillfully steering his board along the face of the perfect wave. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. There was no better feeling in the world!
He rode the wave in almost to the shore before jumping off his board and turning it around. But as he pushed it out, his foot struck something sharp. Instant pain shot up his leg and he stopped for a moment to examine it. He couldn’t see much blood and decided that he wouldn’t allow a little scratch to stop him from getting his daily fix of salt water.
Ten minutes later, his foot was throbbing with pain. When he stood up on his surfboard, he was shocked to see that it left a patch of blood on the board. A sudden thought occurred to him: sharks! As he regularly entered their world, he was aware that complacency could be deadly. Every year, people around the country became victims of shark attacks. For some, these attacks were fatal. The survivors joined the Bite Club, an informal group consisting only of people who had survived shark attacks. He had no intentions of becoming one of them. He decided to go in.
It was worse than he thought. When he got to the beach, he was unable to put any weight on his foot. It left drips of blood across the sand and he started to feel queasy at the sight. He was able to hop on one foot and drag his board with him across the hard, wet sand but the dry sand brought him unstuck. He fell over, his board landing on top of him. He stayed where he was for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next.
“Are you OK?” asked a concerned male voice somewhere above him. He pushed the board off his chest and sat up.
“Sort of. I’ve got a cut on my foot and I’m having a hard time getting through this soft sand.”
The older man turned to the young woman who was with him.
“He needs a hand. Can you grab his board while I help him up?”
She took the surfboard and the man took his wrist and hauled him to his feet. He draped his arm over the man’s shoulders and they made their slow way across the Killick Creek bridge to the carpark.
“That’s my car there.” Greg pointed at his white Toyota Hilux work ute. It had a tray back with his two big tool boxes on the back. He unzipped his wetsuit and fished his key out of the pocket of his board shorts. He handed it to his rescuer.
“If you open the toolbox on the driver’s side, you’ll find my car key in the top tray. I have a towel in the cab.” He sank back against the tray, holding his foot aloft while blood continued to drip onto the ground.
The man found the key and opened the cab. A moment later, he was back with the faded yellow towel Greg had left on the front seat, along with his favourite blue and white striped shirt. He handed the towel to Greg, who peeled down the top of his wetsuit and dried his chest and back. He took the shirt and slipped it over his head, then gingerly pulled the wetsuit over his injured foot. His new friend came and stood beside him.
“Put your weight on me,” he instructed. “Madison, can you pull the wetsuit off when I take his weight?”
The girl stepped forward and Greg braced his weight between the man and the vehicle. With his good foot off the ground, the girl whipped the wetsuit off, leaving him standing there in his board shorts. He had no intention of removing those in front of two strangers! He would have to stay wet.
The man took the towel and wrapped it around his injured foot. Hopefully, it would keep the blood from dripping everywhere, at least for a little while.
“Well, it looks like you need to go to the Accident and Emergency department. I’m Joe, by the way, and this is Madison, my daughter.” Greg reached out to shake his hand.
“I appreciate your help,” he said. “I was in a bit of a mess back there.”
“That’s no problem,” the man said. “But you’re in no fit state to drive.” He frowned, looking at his watch. “Unfortunately, I’m due on a work conference call in twenty minutes. Blasted nuisance when you’re on holidays.”
“I can drive you,” Madison spoke up. Joe looked doubtfully at his daughter. She rolled her eyes at him.
“It’s OK, Dad. I’ll be fine.”
“Can you drive a manual?” Greg asked, waving a hand at his truck.
“Yes, I learned to drive in one.”
“OK, then. Thanks, Madison. I’d better go,” Joe told her. “Are you sure you’ll be OK? You don’t even know this guy!”
“I’ll be fine, Dad. Stop worrying!”
“Under different circumstances, I would promise to look after her but I think it’s going to be the other way around!” Greg joked. He could understand Joe’s reluctance to hand his daughter over to a complete stranger. Joe gave him a friendly wave and started walking briskly up the hill.
Greg slid into the passenger seat of his car. It wasn’t often that someone else drove it and he found himself hoping that Madison was a good driver. She got in and turned the key, then put it into gear and released the clutch. The car reversed in a smooth curve across the carpark. Madison found first gear and they were off. Greg relaxed as he realized that she was a competent driver. He stole a glance at her. She was pretty, with soft, light brown hair that curled around her face. Her bright blue eyes matched her soft blue cardigan and her jean-clad legs revealed a trim figure. He judged her t
o be around his age. How awkward. He didn’t know what to say but couldn’t stand the silence, either. So he settled for small talk.
“Your Dad said something about you being on holidays. Where do you live?”
“We live in Ryde but we come up here as often as we can. We love it here.” She kept her eyes on the road while she was driving, something he appreciated. He always got nervous when a driver looked at him while talking.
“What do you do for work or education or whatever?”
“I’m an accountant and bookkeeper and I’m about to start a new job when we go back. I’ve been working through a temporary agency for a while so it will be nice to have something more reliable.” They were approaching the outskirts of Kempsey and she slowed down to the town speed limit.
“Do you know where the hospital is?” he asked.
“No, we haven’t needed to go there, thankfully.”
“Yes, I’d recommend staying away from it!” Their light conversation took on an air of camaraderie. Madison stayed focused as they drove across the bridge at Kempsey.
“Straight ahead at the lights.” They stopped for a red light and Madison looked across at him. Their eyes met and he felt an instant flush creeping up his neck. He was embarrassed that she’d caught him looking at her.
It was a relief when the lights went green and they began to move again. Being alone with a pretty girl was nice but under the circumstances, awkward. Besides, his foot was throbbing and he would be glad when they arrived at the hospital.
“Well, this is could be a problem,” Greg joked as Madison pulled up in the driveway of the hospital’s Emergency Department. “We need your Dad.” He opened the door and swung his good leg out. Balancing his weight on one foot, he carefully lifted the injured foot out. Blood had begun to soak through the towel. Madison hurried around to his side of the car.
“Lean on me,” she said.
“Is that going to work?” he asked doubtfully, looking at her slender frame. He was much taller and heavier and he was worried that he would hurt her.
“Let’s try it,” she said.
“You could go inside and ask for a wheelchair,” he suggested. “But it might take an hour for them to bring it out,” he added wryly. Emergency departments all over the country were well-known for their long waiting times. “OK, let’s do this.”
Wrapping his arm around Madison’s slender shoulders, he hopped up the path to the door. She was surprisingly strong as she steadied his weight and they made it through the doors without incident. The nurse on triage duty took one look at the blood soaking through the makeshift bandage and immediately ushered him into the triage room. She took off the bloody towel and applied a fresh dressing until the doctor had time to stitch it up. She sent him out to the waiting room just as Madison returned from parking the car.
Greg realized that she would have to wait with him unless her father could pick her up.
“Sorry, this might take a while.” He gestured at the waiting room, half full of the sick and injured. “Can your Dad come and pick you up?”
“It’s OK. I didn’t have anything much planned for today. I can wait. Besides, who will drive your car? You won’t be allowed to drive right away, I wouldn’t think.”
“I can ask my parents to pick me up but not till later. They’re both at work.”
“Do you have any siblings?” she asked.
“A younger sister, Laura. She’s at university studying to be a teacher. How about you?”
“I have a younger brother, Matt. He’s at uni too. He’s studying engineering.” The conversation faltered when they realized that the people around them were eavesdropping. It was hardly a great place to get to know someone. Greg sighed. She was intriguing, that was for sure. But what a place to be with a lovely girl! He hardly looked like a hero that was capable of sweeping a fair maiden off her feet. Not to himself or anyone else.
Four hours later, foot stitched and feeling subdued from the pain medication, Greg was finally in his vehicle again. He wasn’t allowed to drive until the stitches came out in ten days. Madison slid into the driver’s seat.
“Where to, kind Sir? Your chariot driver awaits your command,” she joked. Greg realized she had no idea where he lived.
“Back to Crescent Head,” he told her. The twenty minute drive passed quickly as he pointed out local landmarks with interesting stories. Finally, they pulled up outside his parents’ house.
“Thanks so much for doing this for me,” he said. “You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
“That’s my pleasure,” she smiled at him. Her smile lit up her face and made her bright blue eyes sparkle.
“Spending half the day in Emergency is hardly a pleasure,” he grimaced.
“It’s not so bad when you have good company,” she said lightly.
“You kept me entertained too,” he told her with a grin. Neither of them wanted to make a move. Somehow, it didn’t seem right to go their separate ways, never to see each other again.
“Can we stay in touch?” he asked.
“I’d like that,” she said. He unlatched the glove compartment in front of him and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen.
“Can I have your number?”
“Sure.” She took the paper and wrote her name and address on it. “If you’re ever in Sydney, come and say hello.”
“I might just do that.” He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “You know where I live, so come and see us if you get back up this way again. I know Mum and Dad would be happy to meet you.” He opened the door and poked a crutch out. “I’ve got to learn to drive these things now.” She laughed and got out of the driver’s seat.
“Would you like to call your Dad to come and get you?” he asked. “You can use my phone if you want.”
“No, I can walk, thanks. Crescent Head is only a small place. We’re staying in a holiday rental up on the hill.” She walked him to the front door.
“It’s been great to meet you - thanks again!” He wanted to give her a hug but thought that might not be appropriate. Besides, he was still not used to getting around on crutches. He’d probably fall over or whack her with a crutch. He’d already been enough of a goose today. Oh well. Better luck next time.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Take care and all the best with that.” She pointed at his foot.
“Thanks. You take care too.”
“I will.” She turned and moved gracefully up the driveway. At the top, she stopped and waved. He realized he’d been standing there with his mouth half open like a drooling idiot. What a good impression he’d managed to make today. He waved back and she walked lightly down the road. One thing was certain; this wasn’t going to be the last he ever saw of her.
Chapter 2
Madison stretched and stood up from her computer, laying her glasses on the desk beside her. She smoothed her light, honey-coloured hair back from her face with a slender hand. Most of it was caught up in a ponytail, but small wisps escaped and hung in curling tendrils around her face. She was at home today; her employer allowed flexible working arrangements. It was good to avoid the city traffic. She had started this job a week ago after returning from Crescent Head and she already enjoyed it.
Her thoughts wandered to Crescent Head and Greg, the injured surfer. She wondered how he was going but she hadn’t thought to get his number. She would have to wait until he decided to get in touch. If that ever happened. She thought she would actually be a little disappointed if she never heard from him again; he was kind of interesting and he seemed like a nice guy. But for all she knew, he might have a girlfriend tucked away somewhere in the background. They hadn’t shared much of their personal lives, which wasn’t surprising given the circumstances. Not that there was much to share, in Madison’s case. It was a long time since she’d even been on a date.
A knock at the door startled her. Everyone else was out. She peered through the peephole and could see a deliver
y driver standing on the front porch. She opened the door and he handed her a form to sign. Her mouth dropped open.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I’m just the driver. But you’re lucky enough to get this.” He reached behind him and picked up a stunning arrangement of fruit in a pretty basket.
“Thank you,” she managed, holding the basket in her arms.
“No problems.” He waved and went on his way.
Inside, she took out the little card nestled between a mango and a banana. It was from Fruit, Flowers and Gifts, a popular business in the next suburb that specialized in delivering gift arrangements. Her name was written in flowing handwriting on the front of the card.
Thank you for your help when I got injured. You have no idea how much it meant to me. I hope you and your family enjoy the fruit. Best wishes, Greg Lockyer.
Underneath his name was a phone number.
Now there were no excuses; she would have to call him and say thank you for the scrumptious fruit basket. Although she often called clients for work, this call was different. It made her nervous. She had never been a social butterfly and her friends often teased her about being the studious one in their group. Sure, she had fun and enjoyed socializing. But there always came a point where she’d had enough and would prefer to go home than continue partying. That was another thing that her friends poked fun at. Although it was meant to be harmless, it poked holes in her confidence, too. She was well aware that others were better at witty conversation and light banter than she was. She must look awfully dull. And then there was her no-frills tendency to say what she thought. Honestly, she couldn’t be bothered with flirtation and small talk. She was more interested in a meaningful conversation with someone real and authentic. Let the other girls have the guys that were all about show and had no substance.
But none of that helped her now. What would Greg think of her? He seemed to be outgoing and friendly and she doubted that he would ever be stuck for words. She took a deep breath and made up her mind to call him right away before she chickened out. She would prefer to send a text message but a call would be more appropriate to say thank you for such a beautiful gift. Sending a text message would verge on rude manners. She would force herself to make the call. Her heart racing and her mouth dry, she picked up the phone. With a bit of luck, he wouldn’t answer and she could leave a message. At least then she could say that she had tried.
Meet Me at Crescent Head Page 1
