Surf School

by Laurine Croasdale

  The engine growled to life and Kim reversed jerkily onto the beach road, picking up speed on the quiet street. The warm, salty breeze flushed out the stale air in the car and she let out a deep breath as they headed away from the hotel.

  ‘Where to?’ Kim asked.

  Pink’s phone rang. She ignored it and looked again at Kim. It was as though the haircut had revealed another person, someone harder, not so friendly.

  She turned back to the windscreen and noticed a shape on the road. She screamed, ‘Look out! That’s Marnie!’

  Pink yanked on the steering wheel and the kombi swerved sharply.

  ‘You nearly hit Jamie’s dog,’ she said accusingly. ‘What are you doing?’

  Kim stabbed at the brakes, pulling the car back into control. Pink flew forwards, her hands slamming against the dash.

  ‘Don’t ever do that again,’ he yelled.

  No matter which way Pink looked at it, tonight had unravelled into an almighty mess.

  ‘You’re scaring me.’ She wrapped her arms protectively around herself, her wrists jarred and aching. ‘Stop the car please. I want to go home,’ she said in a small voice.

  Kim slowed the car to a crawl. ‘Sorry. I overreacted.’

  He tried to kiss her but she pulled her face away.

  ‘Let’s go for a drive. I know a quiet beach where we can have a swim,’ he said.

  Her phone rang again.

  ‘Will you answer that damned thing?’ he said, annoyed again.

  Pink pursed her lips. ‘Stop being angry. It’ll only be my mother. She’ll be furious with you for taking me away from the dinner.’

  Kim laughed in disbelief. ‘Who took who away?’

  The phone rang again and Pink waggled it in front of him. He snatched it from her, turned it off and threw it back in her lap.

  ‘Listen, I’m going away tomorrow. I came tonight to say goodbye.’

  Pink felt more relieved than disappointed, more generous towards him now she knew he’d soon be gone.

  ‘Too bad,’ she said, feigning disappointment. ‘How come?’

  A strong blue light bloomed inside the car. Kim shrank into his seat.

  ‘What’s that?’ Pink turned but he clamped a hand on her leg to stop her.

  ‘It’s the cops. Your mother probably called them. Don’t say a word.’

  Pink pushed his arm off her leg. ‘No, of course not, I’m used to this routine.’

  He glared at her as he wound the window down.

  ‘Licence, please.’ The policeman looked inside the car.

  Pink laced a tissue through her fingers trying to keep calm.

  ‘Reg Pitt?’ The policeman asked.

  Kim nodded.

  The other cop walked to the front of the car, flashing his torch up and down.

  Pink whispered, ‘Who’s Reg Pitt?’

  ‘Me, you idiot.’ Kim curled his hands over the top of the steering wheel, his shoulders hunched. In the blue flashes Pink could see the fear in his eyes.

  ‘You were swerving all over the road. Can you please breathe into this, sir.’ The policeman stuck a bag through the window and Kim blew into the pipe, staring straight ahead.

  ‘I was trying to avoid a dog,’ Kim said quietly when he’d finished.

  Pink jumped at the tap on her window. ‘Name, please,’ the other cop asked her.

  ‘Jasmine Alison Fuller.’ She stared at her tissue, methodically winding a strip around her finger and back again.

  ‘How old are you?’

  The tissue disintegrated and she dabbed at her nose with a small soggy square. ‘Fif …’ Her voice was thin and frail. She swallowed hard and tried again. The policeman leaned closer. ‘Fifteen,’ she managed to say more firmly.

  Kim exhaled sharply and shook his head.

  ‘I’m just dropping her home,’ he explained but the cop ignored him.

  ‘Are you okay?’ the policeman asked her gently.

  Pink nodded. ‘I’m not feeling very well.’ Apart from the nausea gnawing at her gut, Pink knew that if she could get back to the hotel she’d still have a chance of talking her way out of this whole mess. But it’d never happen if the police dropped her off. Pink forced a bright smile. ‘I’ll be fine, thank you. Uncle Reg was just dropping me home.’ For a moment she felt back in control, enjoying the embarrassment on Kim’s face.

  The policeman handed Kim’s licence back. ‘The reading says that you’re just under the limit, so I suggest that you don’t drink anymore tonight.’

  Kim sighed, relieved and drove off down the street, glancing in the rear-vision mirror at the cop watching him.

  ‘Do you ever say anything that’s true, Reg?’ Pink asked. ‘You probably aren’t even a healer.’ The nausea was coming in waves now and whenever the car went over a bump, a surge of that awful decayed smell washed through the cabin. Pink fought the swirling feeling growing in her belly.

  Kim laughed, genuinely amused. ‘Well, I’m a healer of sorts. I help people in need.’ He smiled at her, his face cryptic, dismissive. ‘As if you can talk. Fifteen? Give me a break. Why would I waste my time on little girls?’

  Crestfallen, Pink edged closer to the window. ‘It seemed to suit you at the time.’

  ‘You know what, Pink? You might go to a fancy girl’s school and have heaps of money but you lie just like the rest of us. So don’t give me the moral attitude, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ Pink felt weary. ‘When you leave here I won’t see you again, will I?’

  ‘Probably not,’ Kim said harshly.

  Pink closed her eyes and sighed with relief. ‘Can you take me back to the hotel please.’

  As soon as the last model was tracking back up the runway, Pink’s father managed to cut through the crowd and across to the security guard last seen speaking to Pink. Sensing trouble, the group at the table quickly disbanded and Fran, Marlee and Tilly headed to Tilly’s to see if Pink had turned up. Jamie followed them out, head down, quiet, and Tilly took his hand.

  ‘Do you want to come back to my place for a while?’ she said finally.

  But when they walked down the front steps, Marnie wasn’t there waiting.

  ‘Hey, Marnie’s gone.’ Jamie looked up and down the street. ‘Everyone’s disappearing tonight,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll cruise home, see if she’s there. See you round.’

  Tilly wasn’t sure if he meant Marnie or Pink. ‘Come by later?’ she called out, but Jamie waved, and kept running towards the beach.

  When they got to Tilly’s, there was no sign of Pink. Marlee climbed straight into bed, falling asleep immediately. She’d hardly said a word since they’d left Pink’s place. Now she made little noises in her sleep like she’d been possessed. Tilly giggled, speculating about her dream. ‘Bet Marlee’s dreaming about the contest already.’

  Tilly and Fran rolled into the kitchen to cruise the fridge.

  ‘I’m starving. Too bad we didn’t stay for the dinner.’ Tilly pulled out a bowl of hummus, setting it on the table with bread, plates and half moons of lemon.

  Fran’s eyes were wide. ‘Did Jamie show you how to make this?’ A wedge of bread and dip immediately disappeared into her mouth. ‘Mmm … it is majorly good. Do you think Jamie would teach me?’

  Tilly busied herself pushing dip onto her bread and changed the subject. ‘Do you think Pink is all right? I know she loves doing things for shock value and goes for weirdo guys, but there are things about Kim that don’t add up. He keeps turning up out of nowhere and hangs around like a local, he has a board on his car but no-one’s ever seen him in the surf, he doesn’t work but he’s got money and he says he’s travelled and lived in heaps of different countries but he’s only been out of school for a few years. It’s like all the pieces don’t fit together.’

  ‘I know,’ Fran agreed. ‘But you can’t tell Pink that. She just thinks he’s exotic or something.’

  Tilly laughed. ‘Remember the rugby star? Or the guy who collected comics? What about the actor?’

&nbs
p; Fran shrieked with laughter, momentarily losing her balance on the stool. ‘That’s Pink, it’s either the flashy or the weird.’ Fran filled her mouth with dip and bread and mumbled, ‘Except for Jamie.’

  ‘Yeah, he’s nothing like that,’ Tilly agreed. ‘And she treats him like an unwanted pet.’

  Fran and Tilly jumped at the soft knock on the door.

  ‘Finally!’ said Tilly, guilty that they’d been discussing her.

  Mitch stood at the door, flicking his car keys backwards and forwards, then closed his fist around them tightly. ‘Is Pink here?’

  Tilly shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘Do you know where she went?’

  Tilly shook her head again.

  ‘Do you know where this guy lives – the one she went off with?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Tilly, this is serious. He’s known to the police.’

  Tilly gulped. ‘Really? No, Mitch, I honestly don’t. I don’t even know him. Did you try her mobile?’

  ‘It’s off, of course.’ Mitch turned back to his car. ‘Call me if you see her, won’t you?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘She’s done it this time. Even Pink won’t be able to talk her way out of this one.’ Fran yawned, stretching her arms. ‘C’mon, let’s go to bed, the competition’s on tomorrow. I want to get up early.’

  ‘Let’s wait up another half an hour in case. Hey, come and see our new website,’ said Tilly, still not ready to sleep.

  She flicked on the computer. There was an electric crackle as it booted up but the screen was blank, the cursor blinking into emptiness. Tilly flicked the enter bar. Nothing. She rebooted. Still nothing. She crawled under the desk and switched it off at the wall. Then on again. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

  She sank back in her chair, staring at the screen. Impossible. Her Surf School photos, student list, bookings, homework, newsletter. It was all on there. How could there be nothing now?

  She ran through the processes again.

  Nothing.

  She sent Jamie a text.

  And then another thought hit her: she didn’t have anything backed up.

  ‘So how come you’re going away?’ Pink glanced at Kim, his profile lit by the soft glow of lights on the dash. It made him look seriously creepy, MA15+ creepy, especially when he smiled at her, shadows falling across the hollows near the mouth she had once thought sexy.

  ‘I told you, I came to help my mother move. That’s done so I’m off.’

  Pink’s thoughts swirled together as she struggled against the nausea and she groggily tried to remember him coming to town. He said his mother was sick. She was sure of it. There were even tears in his eyes when he said it. The van lurched around a curve, and another strong wave of the sickly smell swamped the van, the nausea overwhelming Pink.

  ‘Pull over! What is that disgusting smell?’ she managed to say, barely getting the door open before retching into the gutter.

  ‘Oh, classy,’ Kim laughed. ‘That’s just perfect.’

  Pink felt wretched. She pulled her hair back, and wiped her mouth on her shirt. She pushed her hand against the van door, head down, trying to catch her breath.

  ‘Gotta give it to you private school girls,’ said Kim. ‘You really know how to have fun.’

  With the nausea gone, Pink’s senses cleared. She felt humiliated, angry that Kim could be so nasty. The sooner he was out of her life the better. Being free of him was all she could think of, but not before she’d got her own back.

  She shut the door, sticking her head through the open window, her stomach clenching again at the smell. Unable to ignore the smug look on his face she said, ‘Thanks for the ride. Oh, and check the web. Those photos of your lovely kombi with all the pretty pictures you want to patent will be on every site I can find for the whole world to copy. Explain that one to your friend.’

  She waited a few seconds, watching the transformation on Kim’s face as the information sank in and as soon as she heard his car door open she took off, racing down the street. The kombi revved up and headed towards her, its U-turn leaving black tyre marks across the road. Pink looked over her shoulder and glimpsed Kim’s face. She wondered if he meant to run her down. She cut down a pathway connecting to another street, and slumped behind a set of bins, gasping. She vomited again. This time from fear.

  The kombi’s grinding engine made such a distinctive noise that she could hear it come around the block towards her, nearer and nearer, any exit blocked off. Pink pulled her legs in as the headlights flashed on the bins, and sat, barely breathing, as Kim rounded the cul de sac, shining the van’s lights down the path she’d just run along.

  Gradually he clunked the gears into reverse and drove back the way he’d come but Pink didn’t move. She lay against the bin and half-slept for hours, not daring to move in case he was waiting at the end of the road.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Marlee woke later than she’d hoped. Her pre-contest plan had already gone wrong. Leaping over the sleeping Fran and Tilly, she jogged across to the beach, squinting in the harsh morning light and cursing herself again for going to that stupid function last night. If she hadn’t gone she would’ve had a surf and eaten breakfast by now. If she hadn’t gone, she wouldn’t have seen Kyle either but now the memory of him, out with another group of girls, stayed with her and Marlee felt foolish to think he’d ever want to hang out with her.

  She dived into the water to clear her head, swimming parallel to the beach to loosen up, then jogged back to their usual seat to study the surf, feeling the direction of the wind against her body, noting where the banks and best waves were. Her legs jiggled, fingers tapping against the bench, and even though she looked at the water, she didn’t register any of the information she needed, her thoughts circling and returning to that one moment last night. She felt warm, firm hands hold her shoulders and then Evelyn peered around.

  ‘Hi there. Haven’t seen that lazy daughter of mine have you?’ she joked.

  ‘Fran’s still asleep. So’s Til.’

  Evelyn nodded. ‘Ready for today? How are the nerves?’

  ‘Bad.’ Marlee smiled, trying to stop her body from fidgeting.

  ‘Have you eaten yet?’

  Marlee shook her head. ‘No. I get like this every contest. I can’t eat and my nerves get worse and worse. I’m not sure if it makes me a better surfer or not.’

  Evelyn massaged Marlee’s shoulders, calming her a little. ‘Just go out there today and give it your best. Try and have fun. You always surf better like that.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ Marlee hung her head forwards and Evelyn’s strong fingers massaged along her neck. ‘I see all these amazing surfers and think I’ll never be as good.’

  ‘Well, my theory is that there are some surfers with natural talent and some who have to work a little harder to get there. Give me the workers any day, they’re more focused and determined, whereas a naturally talented surfer doesn’t always develop those skills.’ She squeezed Marlee’s shoulders, feeling them softening. ‘You’ve got talent and skill, just remember that. Got a game plan?’

  ‘Not yet. Tilly and I usually work that out with Phil.’

  ‘Well, I’m happy to take Phil’s place if you need me but why don’t you wake those girls up and you can all come over for some breakfast.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Marlee, rolling her shoulders back. Her stomach growled and Marlee realised that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday lunch. No wonder she felt weak and tired. ‘I’m starving.’

  Kyle jumped off his bike looking well-slept and fit.

  ‘Hi, Marlee.’ He stood next to her checking the water, then looked at her. ‘Coming for a surf?’

  Marlee leaped up, her legs jiggling uncontrollably. ‘Later.’ Her voice sounded sharp and she struggled to keep her emotions in check. He was the last person she wanted to see right now.

  Kyle flinched, wondering at the harshness in her tone. ‘Marlee. Last night, I …’

  But Marlee didn�
�t wait. ‘I’ve really got to go.’ Then she yelled over her shoulder, ‘Good luck today.’

  Pink felt badder than bad. It was okay to do stuff and get away with it but when you have to face your olds so stressed out, that was hard. By the time she’d stumbled home around dawn she was relieved and glad to see her parents, even though she expected them to be furious, and as much as she dreaded the moment, she couldn’t wait to be home, with them, and safe in her own bed. Pink had pictured her mother’s disgust at her turning up in bare feet, smelling of vomit and rubbish, with long black trails of mascara running down her cheeks but Christie had hugged her as if she was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. It was the one moment of the whole horrible night that Pink kept returning to and each time it made her feel smaller than she already did.

  But what Pink hadn’t counted on were her father’s tears. As he wrapped her in his arms, shoulders heaving, Pink felt as small as a tiny pin head while her rational part sought to deal with the consequences.

  And there were. Consequences. Pink might not have been able to spell the word but she sure understood its meaning.

  Grounded for one week. No phone. No TV. Worse, no MSN. Total lock down. Her room to clean up. Five unexplained absence letters from the school. Empty Cruiser bottles in the bin. It made her head ache even more than it already was.

  She quickly sent a message to Tilly – groundedoneweekno computernomobilenophone – before handing her phone to her mother. Then she went to bed, her black, filthy feet sticking out the side of her pink cotton sheets, the alarm set for the start of the contest.

  The smell of grilling sausages drifted along the beach. The white medieval-shaped tents were lined up along the path overlooking the best break and the club flag was flying. The contestants’ gathering bays were marked out on the sand and marker buoys provided a clear surfing area. The announcer’s chirpy voice floated towards Tilly, Fran and Marlee.