Summer Loving

by Nicola Yeager

  ‘Sask’ll be fine. Is Kirstan around yet? I’m a bit early. I wanted to get away from someone.’

  ‘No. He’s not here yet. Fancy a coffee?’

  ‘Please.’

  She hits some buttons on a coffee machine and drums her fingers impatiently against the side as it noisily pours out two coffee-flavoured concoctions.

  ‘Here we are.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  I tell her about my walk on the beach after dinner, closing my eyes and thinking about the past and what happened when I opened them. Tears appear in her eyes. We’re both going to be suffering from severe dehydration at this rate.

  ‘Aw, that’s so, so romantic. It’s like you were being guided along the beach by The Force. It’s like when Luke Skywalker is trying to hit that thing with the Lightsabre when he’s blindfolded, y’know? Don’t worry – I won’t ask what happened after you’d kissed each other.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I don’t have to. I could hear what happened, and I wasn’t back until well after midnight last night!’ A serious expression crosses her face. ‘I’d like to say it was severely unarousing, but I’d be lying!’ She grins cheerfully and beams those teeth at me once again.

  ‘Oh, god,’ I laugh, ‘What must you think of me?’

  ‘Don’t worry. It happens all the time around here. We’re used to it. In fact, I believe the sound of frequent noisy intercourse and animal-like cries of ecstasy is featured in the online brochure as one of the hotel’s biggest attractions.’

  ‘I remember reading that now.’

  ‘The golf and the sexual eavesdropping; that’s why they all flock here in the summer. So what are you guys going to do? Are you going to elope? You’re in a bit of a sticky position, aren’t you, but it’ll make a great story in years to come.’

  ‘He said he was never going to let me go again. He didn’t care what happened, or who I was with.’

  ‘Confident bugger, isn’t he. Did he tell you about Italy and Australia?’

  ‘Yes, but he didn’t force them on me or anything. I think Sardinia would be a good first move. I think it would be a good thing if we both got away from here. Lots of reasons.’

  ‘I think so, too. You need some time to get to know each other again, assuming last night wasn’t enough. If he runs out of money, he can always get in touch with my brother.’

  ‘He told me about that. He’s afraid of getting eaten by a shark.’

  ‘The big pussy.’

  I tell her about Estelle and about how she spotted me leaving Kirstan’s chalet.

  ‘God almighty, this is dramatic, isn’t it? And about as bloody romantic as you can get. Now you’ve got the evil wrinkled tit-job queen trying to thwart the course of true love. Didn’t I tell you? This is the real deal.’

  ‘It sort of spoils things that she knows, y’know? I don’t know what she’ll do with the information. She’s not really very pleasant. A bit screwed up, maybe. I don’t know what’ll happen.’

  ‘Just take it one chunk at a time. You’ve got a big hurdle to get over today, but it’ll be cool. You’ll do it. It’ll be fine. If your guy is a man, he’ll take it on the chin. He’s not a baby. He knows the score. Think about it – how many times were you dumped by guys when you were younger? It stings a bit at first, but you soon get over it and then you forget about it. In twenty-four hours, you’ll be free. All the crap’ll be behind you.’

  ‘I just hope it runs as smoothly as that.’

  ‘It will.’

  Kirstan strolls into the reception area, looks at Janica and then looks at me.

  ‘Have you been talking about me?’

  Janica looks at him, a mock sincere expression on her face. ‘It’s all we ever talk about. You must know that.’

  ‘Right.’ he says to me. ‘Get a locker and get into a wetsuit. We haven’t got all day. We’ve got work to do!’

  ***

  The waves are bigger today, so much so that I have problems getting my surfboard into the water. It keeps getting knocked into the air, or forced against my body. I get hammered into the sea about half a dozen times before I can even turn it around to face the shore.

  Still, at least the water is nice and warm and I can feel the sun burning my face. I put on some of that waterproof sunblock, but Janica says it’s was a waste of time and money. Apparently five minutes of surfing in the sea (or falling off the board) will wipe even the hardiest sun cream off your skin.

  Kirstan is trying hard to click into professional instructor mode, but we keep smiling at each other and making shy eye contact, so it falls flat on its face.

  ‘OK. You’re going to be standing up on this thing today. Remember all that you did yesterday. This is just taking things a little further. Yesterday was the heavy petting, today is full penetrative sex. When a good wave comes, get on the board, look behind you, paddle like a bastard, hold the sides, push yourself up and then jump up into the crouching position. It’s easy.’

  ‘For you, maybe.’ I say, as a wave almost knocks my head off.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be here next to you. I’ll also be shouting instructions at you, ‘cause I know you’re a bit slow.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘And could you stop looking at me like that all the time, please? It’s putting me off.’

  As I hold onto the board, I take a look at Kirstan. I suddenly feel a little dizzy and disorientated. This is all so perplexing. I’m in the sea with someone I thought I’d lost forever with waves crashing all about me. I’m hours away from finishing with someone who I’ve been in a relationship with for years. Someone I never loved and someone who sometimes treated me as if I was one of his many possessions. Yet I still feel nervous about what I’m going to say and what’s going to happen.

  I try to put it out of my mind, but it keeps on bouncing back, begging for attention. Am I being a real cow, doing this? I don’t know. This has all happened so fast.

  I knew a lot of people who were in relationships, biding their time until ‘something better came along’. When it did, they’d be off with whoever it was, dumping the old one without a thought. I have to say that I always looked down on people like that. It was as if they were using others rather cynically, which I hated.

  You’d often come across it with friends, too. People who seemed to be your best mate until they suddenly got a really well-paid job and then you never saw them again. It was as if they were just killing time with you. Waiting, yet again, until something better came along, whether it was a new job or just supposedly superior, more interesting people to hang out with.

  I don’t want to be like that. God knows, I’ve changed enough over the last few years and not all of that change has been for the better. I’ve become blasé and snobbish. I’ve taken for granted things like expensive trips that would be the holiday of a lifetime for most people. I’ve turned my nose up at ridiculously priced designer clothing that, in some cases, probably cost more than a small car.

  ‘Here it is! It’s got your name on it! We’re going to do this! Go!’

  I turn around to see a sizeable wave rising up about fifteen feet away, the white water just breaking on its crest. I scrabble up onto the board, look over my shoulder to check it again and then paddle as hard as I can.

  I feel that rush that I experienced yesterday as the board is lifted by the wave and pushes me forward at that surprisingly fast speed. My hands grip the sides. I can hear Kirstan shouting ‘Jump up! Now! Do it!’

  I raise myself up and get both feet onto the board. Then I let go of the sides. For a glorious couple of seconds, I’m actually standing up, only my feet making contact. I don’t know why, but I decide to make a small adjustment to my left foot and suddenly it’s all over. I fall off into the crashing wave and do a somersault under the water. It’s like being trapped inside a huge washing machine on fast spin. For a brief second I don’t know which is up, or which is down, and then I feel Kirstan’s strong hand g
rabbing my arm and pulling me up.

  ‘That was great! Did you see yourself? Well, obviously you didn’t. You were up! Standing. That was it. You fell off, but sod that. Now you know what to do and what it felt like, you’ve got to do it again. No time wasting. Come on.’

  I laugh. It was a lousy attempt, but he was right. I did it, even if it was only for a short time. I try to get my mind back on track to my concerns of a few moments before, but it’s impossible. You can’t mope over negative bullshit when you’re surfing. Maybe that’s why it’s so popular.

  I attempt to take the very next wave that comes along, but blow it completely. I do however, manage to take the board right to the shore in the lying down position, which is better than nothing and still an A1 rush. I’m starting to see how you can become addicted to this.

  It takes about a dozen failed, water-swallowing attempts over about twenty minutes before I manage to stand up again. My back is hurting, my neck is hurting and my arms ache. This time, the wave is scarily big. Kirstan sees the fear in my eyes and pats me on the back.

  ‘Don’t worry. This is it. Nothing will happen. You’re safe. Start paddling now. Don’t look behind you. That’s it. It’s got your name on it. Paddle!’

  I almost fall off straight away, but manage to manhandle the board so that it’s facing straight towards the shore before that happens. My knuckles are white as I grip the sides of the board. I push myself up and jump up onto my feet in one fluid movement, my right leg forward.

  And then it happens. I’m standing and not falling off. As instructed, I look straight ahead and not down. I almost feel a disappointment that I’m going so fast that it’ll be over soon. I can feel warm spray on my face. I can feel that I’m grinning like an idiot. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I lean down slightly and touch the front of the board with one finger, just because I can. It’s so, so fast. I wish I had film of this. I can hear Kirstan shouting something but can’t hear him properly because of the surf.

  If it wasn’t so exciting, it’d be scary. The board finally runs out of water and skids to a halt in the sand. I step off the board and stagger forward a few steps with the momentum. I’m laughing my head off.

  ‘I did it! I did it! Did you see? Did you see me?’

  Kirstan has run up and is standing by my side. ‘Yes, I saw you. Don’t get all big headed. It was only a straight run to the beach. You can unleash your ego when you’re carving up thirty footers in Maui.’

  ‘Did you see me, though?’

  He smiles and hugs me, lifting me up off the sand. My arms are around his neck. I look into his eyes. I love him so much.

  I’m in the water for another twenty-five minutes or so, before I start to feel suddenly exhausted. In those twenty-five minutes, my scores were as follows (approximately):

  Totally embarrassing wipe-outs – 10

  Lying down straight into the beach – 7

  Standing up, but not for long – 5 (quite pleased with that)

  Standing up all the way to the beach – 3

  Not bad going, I thought.

  We walk back to the hotel. The sun is hot now and it’s getting warm inside my wetsuit again. The sand is soft and warm. Kirstan looks at me.

  ‘What’re you doing for lunch today?’

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far forward yet. Janica said to take this day one chunk at a time. I do want to avoid Estelle, though. I didn’t like her attitude at breakfast.’

  I tell him what happened and what she said.

  ‘Oh shit. Yeah. The giveaway might have been you leaving my place wearing the same dress that you wore to dinner.’

  That never entered my mind. How stupid. Still, I didn’t know that I was being observed, so it wasn’t really my fault.

  ‘Anyway, what can she do? She tells him, or you tell him. The result will be the same. It’s just one of those tough things you have to force your way through.’

  ‘I know. It’s just that there are right ways and wrong ways of doing things.’

  ‘When I dumped Monica Bellucci, I just texted her.’

  ‘We’re not all as heartless as you.’

  ‘True. Listen, let’s get changed and walk across to the town. There are a few places there for lunch if you get hungry. It’s only a small place. Hotel guests rarely go down there. Too many Portuguese around. I doubt whether you’ll run into your friend.’

  ‘She’s not my friend.’

  ‘Your fiend, then.’

  ‘That’s more like it.’

  ‘That was quite funny, wasn’t it. Fiend. I’m getting quite quick-witted.’

  Half an hour later, we’re walking down a crowded street, surrounded by busy shoppers, cyclists and slow-moving cars that actually brush against you as they pass by. I’m wearing pale blue sandals and they’re already covered with a layer of dust. Most of the shops and houses we pass are painted a brilliant white. I can still hear and smell the sea, but I can’t see it anymore. The heat is incredible now and I realise that I’ve been spoiled by the air conditioning of the hotel. I wipe some sweat away from my upper lip.

  It seems ridiculous, but this is the first sense I’ve had of actually being in a foreign country. The heat, the smells, the sounds, the people. The hotel, lovely and luxurious as it is, could be anywhere in the world. There are a few little hints in its decor that we’re somewhere other than the UK, but you’d be hard pressed to guess exactly where. And, of course, all the staff speak English most of the time.

  ‘Come and have a look at this.’

  Kirstan takes my arm and steers me down a side street. After a few minutes, I notice a strong smell of fish and we’re soon inside a large, warehouse-like fish market. It’s cold in here and it’s quite a relief after the heat outside. A lot of people, mainly women, mill around looking at the hundreds, or even thousands of fish lying on row after row of cold slabs and trestle tables.

  It’s an incredible sight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many different types of fish in one place, and the multifarious colours are incredible. There are even sharks, still looking dangerous and angry even though they’re dead, and a mind boggling variety of prawns and shrimps. Kirsten nudges me.

  ‘It’s amazing, isn’t it? All these fish you’ve never seen before in your life. There’re loads of little fish markets around here, but they tend to start up really early in the morning and they shut down around the time you and I are having breakfast. This is the only indoor one here, so they’re open much longer. Usually close about three in the afternoon.’

  ‘It looks fabulous. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  ‘Great smell, too.’

  ‘Do you know what they all are?’

  ‘Sure.’ He walks past the rows of fish, pointing at them like an expert. ‘These are little red ones. Very arrogant, apparently. The ones up there are yellow ones with spots and a furious expression. Those are big white ones with vacant faces and grey bits. Those are eels – known for their sarcasm. And those are shrimps.’

  ‘You’ve obviously made quite a study of the local piscine population.’

  ‘You never know when it’ll come in useful. Impressing girls an’ stuff.’

  We stroll along, hand in hand, looking at all the different displays. An old woman who looks at least ninety approaches us. Bizarrely, she’s wearing a Powerpuff Girls t-shirt. She smiles at Kirsten and then at me.

  ‘Ela é uma beleza!’ she says to Kirstan, laughing, ‘Você deve se casar com ela!’

  Kirstan laughs out loud. ‘Eu vou mater isso em mente!’ he replies.

  She cackles loudly and hobbles off.

  ‘What was all that about? And since when did you speak Portuguese?’

  ‘GCSE Spanish, I’ll have you know. It’s not exactly the same, but you soon pick up the differences. They’re pretty close in lots of ways. You can get by with it.’

  ‘What did she say to you?’

  ‘Ah, well I can’t tell you that. It’s a superstition they have
here. If an old woman wearing a Powerpuff Girls t-shirt speaks to you in a fish market, you can never reveal what she’s said. Sorry, but there it is. Want to get a coffee and a cake?’

  I don’t speak Spanish or Portuguese, but I think I got the gist of it. I can feel my heart fluttering.

  We sit outside a small café. I order a delicious-looking little custard cake and Kirstan has what looks like chocolate mousse on a pastry base, with a big dollop of cream on the top and brown sugary sprinkles. We eat and drink for a few minutes, watching people go by.

  ‘Is this lunch or elevenses?’ I ask.

  ‘I don’t know. I think it’s called gratuitous sugar intake time.’

  ‘Do you still eat doughnuts with coffee icing?’

  ‘Whenever I can get them. They’re quite rare out here, though.’

  ‘This cake is so rich that I don’t think I’m going to be able to manage any lunch in the near future.’

  ‘Yeah. All the pastries here are full of eggs. They really fill you up. Doesn’t matter. We can just sit here for as long as you want. No pressure. I’m going to order another coffee in a minute. This mousse cake is gluing my teeth together.’

  ‘Do you…?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘OK. If it doesn’t matter, you can keep it to yourself.’

  ‘You git. I was going to ask you if you felt this was…’

  ‘Weird?’

  ‘Apart from that. Do you feel it’s like we’ve never been apart? I know that’s an awful cliché…’

  ‘It is an awful cliché. But yes. That’s exactly what it feels like. That and weird. Also, I’ve never been out with a blonde before, so it’s quite exciting and sexually stimulating for me in a filthy, evil way.’

  ‘I’m glad I could be of help.’

  ‘When’s he back?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Your guy.’

  That comes as a tiny shock. I’ve been feeling so relaxed that I’d almost, almost forgotten about all of that. Damn.

  ‘They managed to book the course for two sessions. Yesterday afternoon and this morning. They’ll probably have lunch there. Then it’s a couple of hours drive back here. So, mid-afternoon. Late afternoon. Who knows?’