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Summer Loving

Page 6

by Nicola Yeager


  ‘Good! Well you’re getting there already. We use pop-outs for the students here. They’re moulded boards, ideal for beginners. They’re big and they float, so you can always hang onto them if you don’t feel confident…’

  There’s a loud crash from the room behind the reception desk and I hear a male voice hiss ‘Shit!’

  Janica looks behind her briefly, rolls her eyes, then she continues. ‘We’ll get you in the water on the first lesson, but there’ll be a little bit of theory first on the beach. Nothing too difficult. Nothing to worry about. Just general health and safety. Load of bullshit really, but we have to do it.’

  ‘I saw you on the beach this morning, I think.’

  ‘Yeah, that was me. I was glad when that lesson was over, I can tell you that for nothing. So, anyway, after our chat, we’ll show you how to get onto the board, how to position yourself, and all that sort of thing. Lying down first, then we’ll run through what you have to do to stand. Don’t expect to stand on the first lesson, though. In the water, that is. Some people do it, but don’t worry if you can’t. It’s pretty difficult when you’re starting out, or it can be. Depends on the waves, to a degree. We’ll just play it by ear. Deaths are down by forty per cent this year, by the way. Only kidding.’

  She pulls out a sheet of paper, sticks a pen on top and pushes it across to me.

  ‘This is just something for you to fill in. No rush, but they insist we do it. For now just stick down your name, signature and room number. We’ll charge the lessons to your room. You can do the other stuff later. Or you can do it now. Doesn’t matter much, really,’ She laughs, ‘We burn them afterwards. Only kidding.’

  I take the form and start writing.

  ‘I noticed you yesterday out front. You’re here with your dad, yeah?’

  Jesus Christ.

  ‘No. No, he’s just a – a friend.’

  She laughs. ‘Oops!’

  Turning away from me, rather embarrassed, I suspect, she taps something on the computer keyboard and squints at the screen.

  ‘Well, I’m afraid I’ve got a beginner lesson in five minutes, then a break and then I’m fully booked for the rest of today. There’s really nowhere I can squeeze you in. But…hold on…’

  She does some more typing, looks at the screen again and smiles.

  ‘OK. No worries. My colleague has got a lot of gaps this afternoon. Just let me check for a moment. In fact… he could probably do you straight away, if you’ve got nothing else on. If that’s too soon, don’t worry.’

  What a stroke of luck. ‘That would be perfect.’

  I give her one of my nicest smiles. She turns to look at the door behind the reception desk and shouts at whoever’s in there.

  ‘Can you come out here when you’ve finished destroying the place? Lady wants a private lesson.’

  ‘Sure.’

  What happens next seems to be in slow motion, but I’m sure it was really only a matter of seconds. A tall, good-looking guy appears in the doorway. Orange iridium shades, green O’Neill t-shirt, black cargo shorts. And the smile drops from my face.

  Oh Christ, no. Oh no. It can’t be.

  I don’t know whether I’m hyperventilating or sobbing. I try to take big gulps of air, but I’m repeatedly and rapidly breathing out. I feel faint. My eyes fill with tears and I can feel them running down my cheeks. For a second, I wonder if I’m having a heart attack. I put a hand out to support myself on the edge of the reception desk and place the other across my chest as I try to gulp in air.

  I hear Janica’s concerned voice, but I can’t see her. My peripheral vision seems to have crashed. ‘Are you OK? Excuse me? Miss? Madam? Oh, Jesus.’

  I hear her rush around the desk and in a second, she’s got an arm around my shoulder. She grabs my chin, lifts my head up and looks into my eyes. She looks frightened.

  ‘Come over here. Come over here and sit down. Oh hell.’

  She manhandles me towards a chair a few feet away and I collapse into it. My breathing is ragged now and there’s no doubt about it; I’m crying my eyes out. I can’t stop it. Am I going mad?

  She pushes my head between my knees. I reach up with one hand and try to wipe the tears from my face. My whole body is racked with sobs. Crazily, I think ‘So this is what totally losing it feels like!’

  Janica stays with me, her arm still around my shoulders. ‘Kirstan, could you get this lady a glass of water, please? I think she’s having a funny turn.’

  Through my tears, I watch the cause of my disturbing condition walk into the office behind the reception counter. Janica strokes my hair as I slowly recover and she watches my face intently.

  ‘Are you feeling better? Did you have some sort of panic attack or something? Have you got any medical conditions? Asthma? Diabetes? Epilepsy? Anything like that? How can we help?’

  ‘No. I don’t know. No. Nothing like that. Just felt a bit faint, that’s all.’ I’m talking with my hand across my mouth, intermittently jerking with sobs. ‘I’ll be OK if I can just sit down for a few minutes. I’m sorry. I’ll be OK.’

  ‘Oh, well if you’re sure it’s nothing serious. You gave me a bit of a shock just then.’

  ‘I know. I’m stupid. Sorry.’

  ‘That’s OK. Don’t worry about it.’

  I sniff and look around. What was I doing down here again? Oh yes. Surfing lessons. She said she had a lesson to take. I hate being made a fuss over. I don’t like inconveniencing people, either.

  ‘I feel a lot better now. Don’t let me stop you doing anything.’

  ‘Are you really sure, darling?’

  ‘I’m really sure.’

  ‘OK. Listen sweetheart. I think you’re going to be alright now. You’ve got a bit more colour on your face. I have to go and take a lesson, but my colleague will look after you until you feel better.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, thank you. Sorry about this. I…’

  ‘That’s quite alright, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re going to be OK? I can stay with you, if you like. Doesn’t matter if I’m a few minutes late.’

  I don’t think I’ve ever felt more foolish in my life. I can’t believe this has actually happened.

  ‘No. I’m alright now. Thank you for your help.’

  ‘OK. Maybe I’ll see you later. Take care.’

  She pats me on the shoulder, gets up and strolls off. What a nice lady.

  Kirstan, who still hasn’t recognised me, squats down holding a paper cup full of water.

  ‘Here. Try and drink some of this.’

  I take the cup and almost choke as the water goes down the wrong way. I cough, recover, and then start sniffing. I’m crying again. I can’t help it. I must look a mess. I’ve split half the cup of water on the floor.

  Kirsten is looking straight at me, but there’s not even a glimmer of recognition on his face. Why should there be? It’s been almost eight years. Also, the girl he knew had medium length brown hair and he’s looking at a woman with long blonde hair. On top of that, he’s hardly going to expect me to turn up at this hotel. I’m half wondering if I can get out of this without him realising it’s me.

  ‘I’m sorry about the water. I’ll mop it up.’

  More tears threaten to appear. Kirsten frowns when he hears me speak. He takes off his shades, tilts his head to one side and looks into my eyes. Stupidly, I sob again, my hand over my mouth.

  ‘Sask? Is that you?’

  He almost whispers it. I just stare at him blankly, shaking slightly. Well, could you think of anything smart to say under these circumstances? I sniff once more and smile half-heartedly.

  ‘It might be.’

  This small attempt at witty repartee is too much for me and I place a hand over my mouth as I start sobbing again. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  He gently uses the back of his hand to clear some of the tears away from my face, then brushes away a few wisps of hair. His touch makes me shiver. ‘I didn’t recognise you. You’re blonde, then.’

  ‘Ye
s.’

  ‘Shit. It suits you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. What – what are you doing here?’

  ‘Holiday.’

  ‘Ah. It’s…yeah. It’s the summer.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s why it’s so warm here.’

  ‘It’s, um, July.’

  God almighty. This conversation couldn’t get more stilted if it tried.

  ‘I’m going to have to stand up now,’ he says, ‘My legs are starting to hurt from squatting down like this.’

  ‘OK.’

  I feel sorry for him now. This must be so awkward. He looks like he’s in shock and he looks really distressed. He composes himself and looks at his watch.

  ‘So shall we get out there and spank a few waves?’

  It’s no good. I just start sobbing again. I’m useless.

  Six

  I’m in the surf school changing room, flicking through a row of shorty wetsuits. Kirstan looks at me, but doesn’t say anything; I think he’s still in the recovery phase, much like I am.

  ‘I’m sorry about that back then,’ I say, ‘I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually like that. It must have been awful for you and your colleague. You must think I’m a complete idiot. I just didn’t – I just didn’t expect…’

  He smiles at me, but his eyes are sad.

  ‘Forget it. Must have been something like a panic attack, maybe. Happens to most women when they see me. In shops, bars, everywhere. Some have died of it. Was it my sunglasses? They’re pretty expensive. Oakley Radar Path. The chicks love them.’

  He knows damn well what just happened. He’s just trying to make light of it to cheer me up.

  After my reception area faux pas, when I had recovered enough to get up and speak normally again without bursting into tears, I excused myself and went up to my room to freshen up. I didn’t want to look completely stupid, even though it was definitely getting to that stage.

  I was still determined to have a surfing lesson. Running away would make me look so, so pathetic and would probably traumatise me for the rest of the holiday.

  After what had just happened, I definitely didn’t want to bump into Estelle and spend the rest of the day with her. That would have just been much too much. ‘Are you alright, babe? Has anything happened? You look a bit pale.’

  I’m fine. It was just a shock. These things happen. All I needed was half an hour to compose myself. I can handle this. I’m a grown-up. I can cope. I’m good. I won’t let it touch me. Keep it together, Sask.

  I had a shower and got into my spare swimsuit. I put a white cotton blouse over it and slipped into a dark red gingham skirt. I took a look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I felt a bit strange about Kirstan seeing that I’d become a blonde. Ashamed wasn’t the right word, but it was somewhere in that region. I felt I’d sold out, in some way, you know?

  I moved from left to right, watching my reflection carefully. There was nothing wrong about my having had a boob job, nothing at all, but a part of me didn’t want Kirstan to know. God knows what he’d think. I wondered if I could get away with it. I was nineteen, for god’s sake. It was eight years ago. I could easily have put on a few pounds and they could all have gone to my chest. It was possible.

  I realise that I was admiring myself in the mirror in much the same way that I would if I was going on a date. I still feel a little queasy. No. That’s the wrong word. I feel like I’m in pain. All those feelings I’d hidden away were threatening to make themselves known once more. That occasional stab in the heart is now a constant torment. I must be strong.

  Back in the changing room, I can hear Kirstan talking in a low voice on his mobile. Something he’s ordered that hasn’t turned up. When he’s finished, I try to get his opinion on what I’m going to wear. It’s difficult. I really have to force myself to speak to him. I feel light-headed and dizzy.

  ‘Do you think this one will fit me?’

  I hold out a thin black wetsuit with fluorescent pink stripes all over it. Kirstan takes it from me, holds it up, looks me up and down and then hands it back.

  ‘That should be OK. Try it on and see how it feels. You’ll need a rash vest, too. Let me see…’

  He selects two rash vests, one dark turquoise and one a horrible yellow.

  ‘These are different sizes. Try the yellow one on first. If that’s too small then the turquoise one should be just about right.’

  He looks at me, and I can see where his eyes are resting. Has he noticed?

  ‘Take them both in the changing room with you and let me know if you need anything else.’

  I take off the blouse and skirt. It’s a bit of a tight fit getting the rash vest over my swimsuit. I didn’t really see why I had to wear one of these vests, but Kirstan explained that most people get a rash where the wetsuit fits around the neck, so it was best to be on the safe side.

  ‘It’s really uncomfortable pulling this damn vest on.’

  ‘Take your swimsuit off!’

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘D’you need any help in there?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

  ‘I can come in if you like.’

  ‘It’s OK. I’m managing.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I help the other women that come down here.’

  ‘I’m sure you do.’

  I can hear him laughing. Despite myself, it’s a sound that gives me goose pimples. Well, at least he’s recovered from the shock.

  ‘I didn’t get a chance to ask you; why are you here? I mean, you’re obviously on holiday…’

  ‘Well, you’ve answered your own question, then.’

  ‘I see!’

  ‘What’s that meant to mean?’

  ‘Nothing. Listen. We’ll do this lesson now and I can fit another in tomorrow at ten-o-clock. That OK with you? I’ll definitely have you standing up by the time I’ve finished, if you’ll pardon the crude sexual subtext that I’m intentionally putting forward there.’

  ‘That’ll be fine. Thank you.’

  I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to put a neoprene wetsuit on, but they are a major, major pain in the arse. This is a thin one; it has short sleeves and the legs only go down to the knees, so it’s not as bad as it could be, but it’s still extremely awkward. For me, anyway.

  After five uncomfortable minutes, I finally manage to pour myself into it and it only remains for the zip up the back to be pulled up. There’s a long lead attached, but I can’t do it. I feel like I’m going to dislocate my shoulder trying.

  I suddenly get a flashback to Lucille helping Kirstan get his wetsuit undone when his lead got caught in the zip. Could that really have been close on eight years ago? I feel tears in my eyes again. I wipe them away. I really don’t know what’s wrong with me. I clear my throat to compose myself.

  I open the door of the changing cubicle to see Kirstan talking to Janica. She’s moaning about her last lesson. Something about the girl thinking it was only fifteen minutes she’d booked when she’d actually booked an hour.

  I cough to attract their attention. ‘I’m going to need help with this zip, I’m afraid.’

  Janica walks over and does me up. ‘Are you feeling better, honey? I was worried about you out there.’

  ‘Much better now, thanks.’

  ‘You sure you want to go ahead with this? Don’t feel dizzy or anything like that? See – if you die, we get into an awful lot of trouble,’ She turns to Kirstan, ‘Just like that girl that died last week, Kirst. I thought we’d never get out of the police station. My jaw ached from lying.’

  ‘I’m fine. Really.’ It’s so odd being around people who make jokes all the time.

  Janica indicates Kirstan with a nod of her head. ‘I take it you two know each other from before? Either that or he’s getting much too familiar and impolite with the clients.’

  ‘A bit, yeah. From a long time ago.’ says Kirstan, quickly maki
ng eye contact with me.

  ‘Ah. That’s nice.’ says Janica, grinning.

  Wetsuits like this are really tight fitting. I can see Kirstan looking at me again and I’m sure I notice a little frown. He looks mischievous.

  ‘Can I ask you a personal question?’

  Here it comes. I knew he’d notice. Well, I’m not going to apologise. This is me now. I’m not the person he knew in Cornwall. Loads of women have this done nowadays. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.

  ‘Yes, you can. Sure.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to offend you.’

  ‘You won’t offend me. What is it?’

  ‘Can you swim?’

  I must look shocked. I swallow nervously. ‘Yes. Yes I can. I finally learned about five years ago. I swim a couple of times every week.’

  ‘Good. Good. We won’t be going right out in the depths, but I just wanted to make sure you’d be confident in the water.’

  ‘Oh. OK. Yes. I should be fine.’

  His smile cracks into a laugh. ‘Look at your face! You thought I was going to mention your boob job, didn’t you!’

  I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. My outraged expression will have to do. I’d forgotten his sense of humour. It’s all coming back now.

  Janica looks astonished for a second, then laughs, too, punching Kirstan on the arm. ‘Aw! You big meanie! Come here, honey. Surfer cuddle!’

  She walks over and puts her arms around me, Kirstan doing the same from behind. I can feel my ribcage being crushed. Despite the pain, I’m smiling. I don’t think I’ve smiled like this for years. I can feel the tears forcing their way out again.

  There’s a slight, warm breeze as we walk down the beach. It feels good on my face and it blows my hair around a little. I’m suddenly feeling a little thirsty for some reason, but we can always get something at one of the beach bars after this lesson has finished.

  I’m also feeling a little self-conscious; this is the first time we’ve been alone since my funny turn at the hotel. I hope he doesn’t mention that again. He probably will, though. What am I doing? On top of that, why would I be thinking we’d be going to a beach bar when the lesson’s finished? Would I do that with a normal instructor? Obviously not. I’ve got to focus. Keep it together. Get a grip.

 

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