Marlee gulped. ‘Really?’ She smiled. ‘Thanks.’ Desperate and boardless, she ignored her pride. ‘Would you be able to help me?’
Mitch smiled a little sadly, weighing up his words as he pushed his toes in and out of the sand. ‘If you mean sponsorship, Christie and I decide that kind of stuff together and I’m afraid she, well, we’d like to wait until next year before making a decision. You could make the top league, Marlee, but it’s a tough place and you’ve got a few rough edges to be ironed out first.’ His voice softened when he saw Marlee’s disappointment. ‘I’m not saying no but you need to mature a little.’
Anger fluttered through Marlee but this time she pushed it down deep, forcing a smile. ‘Okay, thanks, I’ll work on it. Bye, Mitch.’
‘Come back to me in six months, Marlee,’ he called after her. ‘We’ll talk about it some more.’ Marlee smiled and waved politely, determined from now on to handle things differently.
‘Let’s sit here for a sec.’ Phil slid onto the seat, gently shifting his leg into a comfortable position then rested his crutches alongside, his arms stretched along the top. The sun was setting and light played across the ocean in channels of gold. A fresh breeze lifted the hair around the neck of his shirt.
‘Are you all right, Dad?’ Tilly asked, concerned.
‘Never better,’ he smiled. ‘Just wanted to smell that ocean. It’s so good to be home.’
‘You’re telling me. We’re back where we were weeks ago!’ Tilly cuddled up next to him, her head on his shoulder. ‘Well not quite, but it’s better than it was.’
Shane brought a class of students up the beach, their shadows elongated across the sand. Phil gave him a long, slow wave. Tilly itched to pull him up and lead him down the steps to the School.
‘Do you want to go and see Shane?’ she asked hopefully.
Phil shook his head. ‘Not yet. Just give me a couple of days to get my energy up. Besides, Shane’s doing a great job, I don’t want to go crashing in there and take over. I’m happy to ease up for a while.’ He yawned. ‘Speaking of going slower, let’s have that dinner you’ve made for me, Tilly, and then I’m going to hit the sack.’
‘That’s the best meal I’ve had in my life.’ Phil pushed his plate back, accidentally upsetting his crutches. They crashed loudly to the floor, the sudden noise making everyone jump. He laughed. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit clumsy.’
Sam moved the crutches aside while Phil awkwardly pushed his chair away from the table.
Tilly gathered the plates. Phil’s stir-fry was only half-eaten, and she tried not to look disappointed. Phil squeezed her hand. ‘Sorry, love, my appetite’s not what it used to be but I can’t tell you how good it is to sit in my own home and have dinner with you three. The future’s looking good. Plenty of waves to catch and a thriving business to run, thanks to you guys. So, Tilly, do you want to show me this magnificent web page of yours? It sounds fantastic.’
Phil’s strong arms quickly moved the crutches across the floor but he gasped slightly as he knocked his foot against the table leg.
‘Hey, Phil, why don’t we strap your leg to a skateboard. You’d be totally mobile then,’ Jamie suggested.
Phil’s face was white and even though he laughed, his voice was strained. ‘I don’t think I’d be safe being any more mobile than I am.’ He sat heavily then flicked the computer switch.
Tilly drummed her fingers nervously against the edge. ‘Dad, there’s something I’ve got to tell you about …’
The computer whirred into life and Tilly watched in disbelief as the icons flashed up on the screen. She glanced at Jamie and Sam.
‘I don’t get it.’
‘What?’ Sam asked.
‘The computer. It’s working again.’
‘Yeah, it’s heaps better since I got the spyware off it,’ said Sam. ‘Took me ages to reload all the School stuff though.’
Tilly opened the web page and a photo of Shane, Kyle and the girls in their Surf School T-shirts flashed up.
‘Hmmm, very Baywatch.’ Phil laughed. ‘I can’t believe you got Shane to wear that.’
‘Fran made them, but it was Pink who talked him into wearing one,’ said Tilly. ‘Pink can talk anybody into anything.’
‘Hah, great class shots. Oh, profiles, and class records.’ Phil laughed, ‘This is amazing. It must have taken you hours.’
‘Sam and Jamie helped, except Sam forgot to mention he’d cleaned the disk!’
There were student records, addresses, photos of all the classes and even a map locating Diamond Beach and the School. Tilly clicked and the slideshow started: the girls working at the School, students going through their stretches, Fran’s Beach Bling, repainting the School, shots of Diamond Beach …
‘Arghhhh!’ Phil cried as though the screen had suddenly burnt him. He pushed his chair back from the table, his face pale, sweaty. He grabbed the edge of the table, trying to calm himself while Tilly, Sam and Jamie stood frozen, staring at him.
‘Dad.’ Tilly knelt down beside him. ‘What’s wrong? Shall I call the doctor?’
‘Go back,’ he whispered. ‘The photos. Go back.’
Tilly clicked Back on the screen.
Phil pulled his chair closer, his face almost touching the screen. ‘Stop!’
Tilly laughed, relieved. ‘Oh, that’s some old kombi Pink liked.’
‘More like some old driver,’ Sam said wryly. ‘Sorry,’ he added, but Jamie shrugged.
‘What is it?’ Jamie asked Phil, who was pointing at the screen.
‘Can you make that bigger?’
‘Sure.’ Tilly enlarged the photo so it filled the screen. It was slightly blurred but you could still make out the dolphins and sea creatures along the side panels.
‘That’s it.’ Phil looked at the three of them. ‘That’s the vehicle that hit me. I’m sure of it. Have you got any more photos?’
‘Pink probably has.’ Tilly thought back to the night of the storm and Pink’s strange behaviour. ‘She knows. I think Pink knows it was him.’
Phil tried to pick up the phone but his hands were shaking too badly. ‘Can someone please dial Mitch’s number?’
Marlee knew exactly where Jordie’s shop was. She detoured past it most days on the way home from school to admire the boards lined up near the front door. Jordie was the best shaper in the area but even though she’d often seen him at the beach they’d never spoken, and she’d felt shy when he’d called. Dutifully she wrote down the address. It was only after he’d hung up that she realised she’d never said thanks.
Her bike tyres hummed over the hot pavement as she rode down to the shop. She propped her bike against the wall, stopping momentarily to run her palm down the rail of the board closest to her, shaping her hand to fit its smooth curve.
She wandered towards the shaper’s bay where Jordie worked. He flicked the sander off, pushing the mask onto the top of his head. Fine white dust from the surfboard blank had settled in the curls of his hair, on his lashes and over his brown skin. He looked like he’d been rolled in snow.
‘G’day, Marlee.’ His handshake was more than firm, crushing the bones in her hand. ‘Good to see you. Loved your photos in the magazine. Let’s hope they’re on my boards next time.’
Marlee felt like her face had split open. She tried to stop grinning, but couldn’t. Nothing could stop how good she felt, hearing those words from someone she looked up to so much.
Jordie took her through to the front room and pulled out a few boards. ‘Tell me if I’m wrong, but I kinda see you on something like this, a nice strappy little bullet with thin rails. Good for charging but plenty of action in the turn.’
Marlee kept nodding. She’d unwrapped an identical board in her head every Christmas. She ran her hand down the glossy deck, already seeing it in the water.
‘Kyle tells me you’ve got plans to step up to the next level.’
‘Kyle?’ Marlee looked shocked. ‘Is Kyle involved in this?’
Jordie shook his h
ead, his face mask throwing off a flurry of white dust. ‘No, but he showed me your photos.’
Marlee hesitated. For once she thought she’d done something on her own merits. ‘I don’t want favours,’ she said abruptly.
‘Look,’ Jordie scratched his head. ‘I’m a business man. You surf good and I want you on my boards. If other chicks see what you can do on my boards, they’ll all be lining up for one. I’ll offer you two boards a year to start with then let’s see where we go from there.’
Marlee was silent. It was more than she’d dreamed of and she searched for the words to show her gratitude, hoping her voice would stay steady.
‘You’re bustin’ my balls here,’ said Jordie, misinterpreting her silence. ‘Okay, three boards, but that’s it until you’ve proved yourself,’ Jordie finished.
Marlee smiled, nodded, laughed and nodded some more, still not trusting herself to speak. She’d had one board for six years; three boards a year sounded better than fine. ‘Thanks so much. I won’t let you down,’ she finally said, her voice a squeak.
Jordie shook her hand warmly. ‘I can tell that. Let’s nut out the details now so you can have one in the water by Christmas.’
By the time Jordie had taken some measurements and drawn Marlee an outline of her new boards, going through all the design points, night had fallen. She unchained her bike, conscious that her mother would be expecting her home any time for dinner.
But Marlee wanted to share her good news and her mother was not the person to share it with. Marlee could see the cold set of her face, the resigned shrug of someone who had already watched her husband live with the same passion, following the same dream, only to be crushed and bitter when it failed to materialise. Tilly was the only one who would really understand and Marlee rode through the soft darkness towards her house. It was time to make things right with Tilly.
The air knitted busily with the summer sounds of crickets and frogs, and the steady click of her bike wheels. She turned the corner, stopping across the road from Tilly’s. Through the window she could see Tilly, Sam, Jamie and Phil around the table, laughing, eating – a ‘Welcome Home Dad’ sign in the background. Marlee watched for a few minutes, a loneliness creeping through her, her brilliant news temporarily forgotten. Normally she’d be at celebrations in the Hoye household and it hurt to realise she’d been excluded, even though she knew that she was largely responsible for that.
She pushed her bike towards the beach, no urgency in her ride now. She roamed, directionless, along the beach, realising how lonely it was without her friends around, then turned up the hill out of habit following her pamphlet run, lost for somewhere to go. She paused at the top, leaning on her handlebars to catch her breath, watching the swimmers at the ocean pool in the distance turning laps under the lights. Maybe her good news was the ice breaker she needed.
With a renewed sense of purpose, she flew down the hill, past the skate park and along the boardwalk, not dropping her pace until Tilly’s house was in sight. She slowed near the driveway, uncertain once again.
‘Hi, Marlee.’ Tilly was sitting on the verandah railing, her heels kicking against the rail.
She didn’t look happy to see her and Marlee stayed on the bike, not moving any closer.
‘Hi.’ Marlee plucked up her courage and blurted out. ‘Hey guess what?’ Silence. ‘I’ve got some great news.’ Silence. Marlee waited for a reaction but there was none. She felt deflated and wished she hadn’t come.
‘That’s great,’ Tilly said, her voice flat.
‘Are you all right?’ Marlee asked. ‘Isn’t Phil home? Aren’t you celebrating?’
Tilly nodded, then jumped lightly off the verandah and walked towards her. It was only then Marlee noticed the tears. ‘We found out who knocked Dad off his bike. Well, we think we did.’ Her voice trailed off.
‘But that’s great,’ said Marlee, relieved. ‘Isn’t it?’
Tilly nodded. ‘Yes. Except,’ she blew her nose, ‘it was that guy Pink’s been hanging out with. Dad’s really upset and he’s called Mitch. He’s on his way over here now to talk to Dad.’
Phil’s voice came from inside, ‘Tilly, who are you talking to?’
‘Marlee’s here, Dad. Can she come in?’
‘Not tonight,’ said Phil. ‘Come inside will you, Tilly.’
Tilly looked at Marlee. ‘Sorry. I have to go. You’ll have to tell me your news another time.’ Tilly walked inside and shut the door, and Marlee shivered in spite of the warm night, then slowly headed for home.
Tilly lay under the trampoline, lazily scooping ice cream into her mouth. She thought about Phil, and Pink, and Mitch, and what had happened the night before. It was all over. Finally. The sun filtered through the mat in a million tiny dots. She listened for the soft tinkle of the wind chimes to signal that the wind was picking up. Each corner of the house had a chime, an early warning weather system she and Marlee devised one steamy afternoon while they ate their iceblocks under the tramp. Deep soft bells rang for the northerly wind, and a huge, super low chime clanged when the southerly blew in, but the chime outside Tilly’s window was her favourite. Thin silver leaves spun below a painted fish, shimmering like they were underwater. It tinkled when the easterly blew. It was Tilly and Marlee’s play-time tinkle, when they’d get out the big old mals, surfing the tiny waves backwards, two on a board, lying down, cross-legged. Marlee even managed a handstand once.
As the first gusts of wind lifted through the chimes, Tilly listened intently, the spoon on hold in her mouth. It came again, stronger this time. And again. She pulled herself out from under the tramp to check and sure enough, the silver leaves were spinning slow circles.
Tilly gobbled the rest of her ice cream, pushed her hair under her white crocheted hat and raced to the School. She slid out two mals and, holding them by the fins, dragged them down the sand.
She left one mal on the sand, then paddled out. After her short board, the mal felt like an ocean liner. It moved slowly, cutting a statesman-like path, as Tilly swung it in a slow arc, lined it up with the bank then steamed regally into shore. It took all her strength to push down on the board for a turn and, in the end, she let it plough onward in a straight line, tempted to put a seat in the middle for the next ride.
Tilly constantly scanned the shore, glancing hopefully up the beach and the boardwalk above. When she saw the familiar blonde hair and Marlee’s bright yellow boardies Tilly shoved two fingers into her mouth and gave a long, piercing whistle. The effect on Marlee was instant. She ran down to the water, collected the second mal and paddled out as fast as she could, yelling, laughing, aiming straight at Tilly, who was now surfing a wave backwards.
‘It’s so good to get wet. I haven’t surfed for over a week!’ Marlee yelled as Tilly passed her.
‘Me neither.’ Tilly swung her board around to catch up with Marlee. ‘I feel like someone’s just put my battery back in. Let’s go!’
Marlee paddled for a wave, a small steady roll that she caught backwards yelling to Tilly as she headed to shore, ‘Jordie’s going to sponsor me.’ She held up three fingers. ‘Three boards a year. I can’t believe it!’
Tilly collected Marlee, grabbing her arm and hoisting her on board. ‘That’s brilliant. Come and stay tonight. We can rewrite the plan. I feel like the summer’s just come together.’ She launched herself at Marlee, tumbling them both into the ocean. ‘I’ve missed you so much, Marlee.’
‘Same,’ said Marlee, shoving Tilly’s head under.
‘And I can cook now,’ Tilly spluttered. ‘No pizza. No more fast food.’
Pink stepped outside for the first time in two weeks – not counting the quick trip to Tilly’s. And even though the surf still rolled in with its bold reassuring rush and people sat in their same old seats watching, Pink’s world as she knew it had tilted slightly. Out of habit she scanned the car park for familiar cars then headed across the road to the beach, sitting on an empty bench down from the normal meeting spot.
Her clo
thes hung a little looser, but then worrying always made her lose her appetite, and even though her mum thought she looked great, inside she felt different, sort of end-of-summer faded – like it was all over but no-one had quite realised it yet. Party Pink, for one thing, had gone undercover. She’d made some promises to herself too: no more lies – that was the big one. After lying to the police and her parents to cover up for Kim, there could be no more lies. The only decent thing she’d done was tell her dad about Kim immediately, even though she got grilled at the police station and was grounded for another week. She was doubly glad she’d spoken up before Phil called because it would have all come out then anyway.
She took a deep breath and headed up the boardwalk, tugging at the hem of her skirt and keeping an eye out for people she knew. Everyone would’ve heard the story by now, news always travelled fast around the beach – though it was usually thanks to Pink. Being on the other end of it wasn’t nearly as much fun and she felt uncomfortable, adjusting her glasses, changing her bag from hand to hand, having a quick gnaw at her Nervous Nail.
Pink hadn’t reached the Club House when Jamie swung past on his skateboard. She smiled, reassured – no matter what, some things stay the same. She waited for Jamie to turn his graceful arc and skate back to her. But he kept going.
‘Jamie!’ she called.
Jamie turned, looked at her for a few seconds, then skated away. Pink stopped walking, fighting the urge to go home. The girls had been right about Kim all along. She blinked back a wave of tears, sure that they all, especially Tilly, would think she was stupid. She forced herself to walk to Jellyfish, standing nervously across the road and watching Tilly, Marlee and Fran plough through a small mountain of toast, eggs and corn fritters, laughing. Pink wondered if they were laughing at her.
Marlee glanced towards the beach and spotted her.
‘Pinkie!’
She sprinted across the road, and threw her arms around Pink. Fran and Tilly followed.
Surf School Page 15
