Surf School

by Laurine Croasdale

  Shane grabbed his head, as though the waves were coming through his forehead.

  ‘I can’t see them but I can hear them screaming and panicking. So I get my guys out of the water so I don’t have to watch them and race up there. Luckily the kids had the good sense to get on a board together and come in. But what really finishes me off is what happens next. The boys are on shore crying and carrying on, the parents round on me and I look up to see Kyle and Marlee riding in together on Kyle’s board.’ His speech became more pronounced as he got angrier. ‘Well, as long as they’re having fun!’ He flung a rashie across the shed. ‘It’s my fault. If I’d got another professional in, none of this would have happened.’

  He thrust his towel into his bag. ‘You know what. I’ve had it for today. I’m going to the pub. Tomorrow’ll be a new day and I’ll get on the phone and find some more instructors. I can’t keep working the hours I am, running all the classes, watching everyone else. It’s not even my School!’ He walked out, leaving Tilly surrounded by a chaos of clothes, boards, vests and equipment.

  In the silence she finally let the tears fall. She cried for her dad, the lousy day, her friends who’d all deserted her, for being yelled at, for being let down. She cried until there was nothing left, then she shut the door and went home.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ Sam swung around in his chair, whispering so as not to wake Phil. Then he noticed Tilly’s red eyes. ‘What’s up?’

  Tilly wiped away a tear that had trickled, unnoticed, down her cheek. ‘Tell you later. How’s Dad?’

  ‘Getting better. He was fine this morning. I took him for a shower and helped him with the physio but he was having trouble breathing and it gradually got worse. Every time he took a breath he’d cry out in pain. The doctor thinks he has a blood clot on his lung so they’ve given him some stuff to thin his blood. But as long as he’s on that, he can’t come home. You okay?’ Sam asked again. ‘Maybe you should’ve stayed home.’

  ‘Sorry, I tried to get here earlier.’ Tilly pulled some money out of her bag. ‘Why don’t you get something to eat while I stay here with Dad.’ She moved along the bed, realising she’d actually raced through the hospital for the first time without gagging. She took Phil’s hand in hers and squeezed it. The fluorescent lights cast shadows along Phil’s cheeks, sinking his eyes into smudgy wells. His face was pale and clammy, and his breath came in short painful bursts.

  ‘Hi, Dad.’

  Phil’s eyes opened and closed in one long slow movement.He smiled, and squeezed her hand back. Tilly moved as close to him as she could, her head near his and began to cry quietly.

  The roads were empty when Tilly and Sam finally left the hospital, and it took a while before a cab came along.

  ‘You’ve hardly spoken all night. You going to tell me what’s wrong?’

  ‘Two students nearly drowned today.’

  ‘You’re kidding!’

  ‘I wish I was. Don’t tell Dad.’

  ‘How could that happen? You’re always so safety conscious.’

  ‘Some boys got into trouble while Marlee and Kyle were mucking around instead of watching them like they were supposed to.’

  Sam shook his head. ‘Really? That doesn’t sound like Marlee. She’s usually pretty focused.’

  ‘Not when Kyle’s around,’ Tilly said sullenly.

  Sam nodded. ‘Have you got the paint sorted out for tomorrow? There won’t be any surf so it’ll be our best chance to get it done.’ He pulled out his mobile.

  ‘Yeah, if anyone shows. Aren’t we going to see Dad?’

  ‘Yep, but the more people we get the less time it’ll take and then we can come in here. Anyway, the nurse told me not to come early because Dad needs to rest.’

  Tilly sank against the window of the cab. He’s not the only one, she thought as Sam sent out texts to their friends about painting the School.

  Tilly pushed their front door open and it scraped aside a mounting pile of debris. The lounge room was scattered with clothes, papers, bags and shoes, as though it had been ransacked. She clicked her tongue, irritated by the chaos, and stepped over the mess.

  Her toe clipped something solid under a towel and she fell headlong onto the couch, clutching her foot then rolling onto the floor. The Blood Book was under the couch where she’d kicked it. As she reached for its dull red cover, a surge of anger rushed through her. Not only had Marlee wrecked her day, she was sabotaging her night as well. Tilly glared at the book, swiping at a pen like it was a weapon, and began to pour her anger and frustration into the Book, pressing down so heavily that the pen scored the pages underneath.

  Dear Marlee

  You know what? Sometimes life sucks and you have to push hard to get through it. You know all about that cause you’ve been there and as a friend, I’ve been there with you. Remember all those nights your Dad came home drunk? Or his mean nights when you got in the way and you came to my place and I hugged you while you cried? Listened for hours while you talked? And after he left, we spent ages cleaning and painting the garage so you had your own space?

  I know you’ve never forgotten even though we never talk about it, but sometimes it has to be mentioned because those are moments that cement a friendship. Not just a ‘hey, how are you?’ friendship at the beach or even a Fran and Pink friendship where we hang out, but a deep connection that should never be broken.

  Yet at this very moment I feel like you’ve got the saw out and you’re slowly but surely cutting us in two.

  First of all, where were you today? I needed you. I needed your support. I needed an explanation about what happened because I was getting yelled at by everyone. And why am I getting yelled at for something you did? I really needed you and YOU DUMPED ME TO GO OFF WITH KYLE. (I’m writing in capitals because I am shouting)

  Shane turned up like a wasp had stung his bum and started throwing things around. He told me that you and Kyle were playing in the surf and two boys nearly drowned. I can’t believe that you could be so irresponsible.

  And what’s the deal with Kyle? I thought you didn’t even LIKE him? Huh. It didn’t look like that to me.

  And secondly, don’t judge me. I can’t help what is happening to me. I’d like to be paddling out but I can’t and even though you never say anything I see it in your eyes every time I tell you I can’t surf or train.

  Thirdly … well, there was a thirdly but I can’t remember it right now so it will have to follow but there is a thirdly and you’d better be listening because I’m sick and tired of you making me feel like I don’t count anymore or not giving me any explanations or not bothering to spend time with me because you want to be with Kyle. I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming.

  Tilly

  Tilly wrapped the book in a towel and left it at Marlee’s door without bothering to knock.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Tilly forced herself out of bed early. Without stopping for breakfast, she marched over to the School, keys jangling in her hand. She’d left it in a mess last night with money still in the till, and the thought of cleaning up only heightened her bad mood.

  Sam’d been right about the weather. There wasn’t enough wind to blow a cloud across the sky and an unusual quiet had settled along the beach, broken only by the soft crush of ripples washing up the sand. People bobbed up and down in the ocean like sea horses, too lethargic to break into a swim. The stinging sun warned it would be a day to stay undercover. Tilly wanted to throw herself into the water, spend the day lolling on her surf mat, but she turned her back and yanked up the roller door, its screech adding to her anger.

  The message bank was full of cancellations, with more phoning in. Tilly took the calls automatically, not bothering to suggest rebooking, just glad they weren’t coming. She sent Shane a text suggesting he play golf today, even though meaner suggestions came to mind. After last night she didn’t want to see or speak to him.

  She put the money into her bag to sort out later, gathered up the damp rashies and placed them
in the sun to dry and put the reservations book into a cardboard box. In one impulsive sweep of her arm, she scraped the entire contents of the desk top into the container. She picked out Kyle’s sunnies and tossed them into the Lost Property box, even though she really felt like jumping on them.

  Fanned by anger, Tilly worked at a demonic pace. She shoved photos into boxes, and hauled equipment out onto the sand. She checked her watch, sending Sam another text to get him out of bed, and had just finished sweeping when Jamie arrived with paintbrushes and a step ladder. She smiled cheerily, pleased he’d shown up. She hadn’t even thought about ladders. His Island Breeze T-shirt barely stretched across his shoulders and stopped above his navel.

  ‘What is that?’ Tilly asked, laughing unkindly.

  ‘Pink told me I had to wear it to the conference dinner,’ he said and yanked it down roughly at the sides. ‘So I’m wearing it in a bit.’

  Tilly huffed. ‘Do you have to do everything Pink tells you?’ she said. ‘Why do you let her push you around all the time?’

  Jamie shrugged. ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘Oooooohhhhh!’ Tilly screamed, frustrated. ‘You are so … annoying.’

  ‘Why do you care?’ Jamie looked at her, curious.

  Tilly stopped short. Why did she care? She laughed, a little thrown. ‘Because you’re too nice,’ she said and even though it sounded lame, Tilly realised it was true. ‘She takes advantage of that.’ Tilly nodded at Jamie’s T-shirt, trying to lighten up a bit. ‘Although that colour does look great on you.’

  The number five kept turning up everywhere, or so it seemed to Pink. There were five tiny pots of coloured paint in her bag, five letters to her parents about being absent from school hidden in her room, five days until the conference and five reasons she could think of immediately as to why she didn’t want to go.

  The letters she’d sort out closer to the start of the school year. What was really puzzling her now was 5 December, the day she and Kim were entwined in history, scripted up in police records and forever connected. Even if they weren’t really together, she liked to pretend they were and – her heart gave a thump – Kim obviously did too. As she passed through the shops and down the path alongside the beach she tried to remember what she had really done that day. A day of such importance couldn’t have just slipped away like that. Something had to have happened so she could place it in her head. She wrote it on the corner of her Elle magazine so she’d remember to ask the others.

  By the time Pink arrived at the School, Fran, Sam and two of his friends had helped Tilly move all the boards into a spare room at the Club House. Pink put her hands together and bowed a greeting.

  ‘Namaste.’

  There was a pause and a few mumbled hellos.

  ‘Namaste,’ Jamie called in a clear voice, bowing his head slightly towards Pink, ignoring a grunt from Tilly.

  They cleaned the walls quickly, but filling in the cracks and getting the sand out was a slow, hot process.

  ‘Can’t we just throw the paint on?’ Tilly said grumpily. ‘It’s not the Sistine Chapel. It’s just a SHED.’ She raised her voice, frustrated at the slowness of it all.

  ‘No. You have to do the prep,’ Sam said firmly. ‘Otherwise it’s a complete waste of time.’

  Tilly drummed her fingers on the door and kicked her shoes against the wall until finally Sam told her to get some pizza for lunch.

  ‘You’re trying to get rid of me,’ she said accusingly.

  ‘Yes.’ Sam said. ‘We’re nearly done. Get the pizza and then we can paint.’

  When she returned, Tilly sat away from the others, chewing her pizza with no enthusiasm. After endless nights of it her favourite food had turned to cardboard and she decided she’d never complain about Phil’s salads and pasta sauces again. Her love handles had begun to sprout and she looked at the water longingly, not daring to mention a swim because everyone would stop work. She checked her phone again for a message from Marlee. Nothing. She couldn’t believe Marlee hadn’t called to apologise about yesterday. Tilly impatiently twisted her hair into a knot to get some relief from the heat. If she’d had scissors handy, she’d have chopped it off on the spot.

  ‘Okay,’ Sam smacked his hands together, then folded the pizza trays into the bin. ‘Let’s paint. It’ll dry in no time in this heat and then we can put the second coat on.’

  ‘You sure? We could do it tomorrow,’ Tilly suggested.

  ‘I’m with Sam,’ Fran agreed. ‘The surf ’ll be up again tomorrow. Let’s do it all now.’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Tilly held her arms up in surrender. ‘Bad idea. Let’s do it.’

  They ripped off the lids, stirring the rich yellow for the walls and a light blue for the roller door. The boys took a wall and roller each, while Tilly and Fran cut in the edges around the door.

  Pink climbed the ladder with yet another small pot of paint.

  ‘What are you doing, Pink?’ said Tilly. ‘Can’t you give us a hand here?’ Tilly could hear the snippy tone in her voice but as much as she tried to hide it, it kept pushing through.

  ‘I won’t be long,’ Pink replied. She painted a small rainbow across the inside wall facing the beach, with several tiny stars around each side, just like the ones on Kim’s kombi.

  ‘Ta da!’ Pink moved the ladder and climbed it again to pin a large crystal in the centre of the doorway.

  ‘What’s with the hippy stuff, Pink?’ Tilly said, fed up.

  ‘Yeah, thought you hated all that New Age stuff?’ Jamie smiled at her, flicking the crystal so small rainbow-coloured dots flashed around the room.

  ‘No, I heard it’s that dropkick …’ The scowl on Pink’s face stopped Tilly and she bumbled on, ‘that dropkick new teacher at her school,’ she finished. ‘Total hippy craze happening there.’

  ‘It looks good, Pink,’ Fran said kindly. ‘I bet Phil’ll love it.’ The warmth in Fran’s voice, and Pink’s grateful smile ate away at Tilly as she poked her paintbrush angrily into all the gaps.

  Empty and painted, the room looked bigger and smelled clean. When the paint had dried, they brought the new boards across, ripping off the plastic and laying them carefully in the racks. Tilly stacked the boxes alongside the desk, now painted a soft blue.

  ‘Hey, Tilly,’ said Fran. ‘Can I use one of the old boards? If it’s okay with you, I’d like to put my jewellery on it and try to sell some.’

  Tilly smiled for the first time that day. ‘Cool idea,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘Take one with you now if you like. I might do the same for my photos.’

  ‘Okay, that’s it.’ Sam grabbed his towel. ‘I can’t stand looking at the water any longer. Let’s go for a swim.’ He raced down the sand followed by his mates.

  Fran and Pink hung back.

  ‘C’mon, Tilly,’ Fran coaxed.

  ‘No you go.’ Tilly waved them away, eager to be by herself. ‘I have to write out a new list.’

  ‘Oh, of course you do! That’s all you do these days – write out lists and boss us around. It wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t so mean,’ Pink complained. She threw down her dress and ran to the water without looking back.

  Tilly bit her lip and checked her messages, wondering for the millionth time where Marlee was. She watched the others diving into the water, Pink throwing herself at Jamie with a loud scream. She collected her gear and headed across the road to catch the hospital bus.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A strong smell of fresh paint rushed over Tilly as she pulled wearily at the roller door early the next morning. It slid back easily, the screech oiled into oblivion and she felt a small glow of satisfaction. When she flicked on the light the space now felt fresh and welcoming.

  The jug was boiling, the trough filled with water, the sign was on the pavement and new boards gleamed on the sand when Shane stuck his head inside. He pulled his sunnies back on.

  ‘Must be at the wrong school. The one I left two days ago was grey and everything looked old.’ He disappeared, then reap
peared as if another angle would change it back to the School he knew. ‘Well, it did need a tidy up. Do I have to turn up in a suit and tie now, boss?’ he teased Tilly.

  Tilly smiled uneasily. Her last conversation with Shane still burned and if she wasn’t feeling so exhausted, she’d try to sort things out. Maybe later. Maybe after some more sleep.

  The early morning class arrived in dribs and drabs while Shane inspected the new boards.

  ‘Okay, let’s get to work,’ he said enthusiastically to Fran and Tilly, who were busy helping the students. Shane looked up the beach to see if anyone else was coming to work.

  Finally he added, ‘Looks like it’s just the three of us today. Can one of you give me a hand in the water?’ He set off along the beach with the group, pointing to a neat left-hander just past the sandbar.

  When it had quietened down Fran showed Tilly the board she’d taken home last night.

  ‘Ta da!’ she laughed. A chain of frangipanis in varying shades of pink and yellow curled around the edges. They laced together at the top, circling a banner that said, BEACH BLING BY FRANIPANI. Fran propped it against the wall then carefully arranged her bracelets, necklaces and earrings, pinning them onto the soft curved surface and placing small price stickers underneath. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Fran, that’s fantastic and it looks great here,’ said Tilly moving the board into a more prominent position by the door. ‘I didn’t realise you’d made so much stuff.’ She lifted a bracelet and let the beads run through her fingers. Tilly put her board next to Fran’s. ‘Mine’s not quite as well presented as yours!’ She smiled but Fran only noticed the deep circles under Tilly’s eyes, the limp hair stashed under her hat.