CHAPTER EIGHT
It was 3 am. Marlee stared at the ceiling, thoughts about money, training and the logistics of getting to Shipwreck zipping around in her head with no obvious solutions coming up. She rolled over to switch on her light, pushing her father’s letter from the bedside table onto the floor. As she reached under the bed to pick it up, she felt the scratched red gift box Fran had given her years ago.
She shifted up against her pillows, opening the red box to deposit her latest letter. Inside, years of her father’s life in letters lay quietly, their plain white covers masking a moody man with a violent temper. As she flicked through them, the beautiful stamps jumped out at her. They were from Hawaii, New Zealand, Brazil, Spain, and the Maldives. Marlee decided to use the stamps for her visual arts assignment about her family. Meet my family, she thought. Here’s a snapshot of my dad’s colourful life in postage stamps, surfing his way around the world while his family was reduced to an address on an envelope.
She picked up an envelope from New Zealand, ripping it carefully down the front so as not to spoil the stamp. As the envelope split a ten-dollar note in New Zealand currency fell out, along with a letter. Marlee stared at the money then slowly pulled out the letter, unfolding a page covered in her father’s chaotic scribble.
Hi Marlee,
It’s freezing in the South Island. I’ve been sleeping in the van with every bit of clothing I can find plus a few towels and when I got up this morning there was snow on the roof. Hate to think how cold the surf’s going to be tomorrow. Wish me luck, Marls. If I can get a placing in this contest it’ll pay my way to the next competition in Hawaii. At least it’s warmer there and I can sleep on the beach! Love Dad xx
Marlee stared at the letter for a long time, holding what was possibly her father’s last ten dollars. As a ten-year-old she had resented her father’s letters. She didn’t want to read about him travelling the world, going to parties, and surfing rather than staying at home with them. But perhaps that wasn’t the full picture. Maybe he worried about food, money and where to sleep just like she was doing about her trip to Shipwreck. He’d spent years trying to make a living as a pro surfer but it never really happened. How would she feel if the same fate awaited her?
She opened more letters. And with them twenty dollars, ten, forty. Each letter contained cash, the amount always different. The envelopes and notes lay scattered around her like confetti.
By the time Marlee opened the last letter it was almost dawn. She felt guilty. Guilty that her father had sent his last dollar to her and she hadn’t even bothered to read his letter. Guilty that that money could’ve helped her mother and guilty, too, because she’d just discovered a side of her father she hadn’t understood before. As she read the letters she could see his dream slipping away and along with it his sense of adventure and optimism. That was the father she’d seen return home, the bitter one who drank too much and started fights, the one she always tried to avoid until, finally, he left on a surfing trip and didn’t come back.
As the sky began to lighten Marlee organised the letters by date, put the stamps into a pile, then gathered the money, a mishmash of currencies, some she didn’t recognise, and put it all into the red box back under her bed.
The yellow sun oozed through the grey hinge of sea and sky, striping the water with gold bars. Sunrise was a sight that never failed to nail Tilly to the spot no matter what she was doing. She watched, recalling yesterday’s surf report on the radio with a smile.
‘Not a lot on offer this morning with fresh onshore winds and a tiny amount of swell. No push, shape or fun. Quite a few local crew out at Rocky Point where there’s the odd waist-high wave every half-hour and in between everyone’s waiting for the ferry to go past to score a bow wave. This surf report has been brought to you by Dean Ellis at 2SJ.’
He was on the money, she thought; so much for the winter swells. But even though there’d been little to get excited about for the last week, and the cold wind managed to cut through the thick rubber of her wetsuit, Tilly hankered to get wet. Out of habit she scanned the water for Jamie but he was nowhere to be seen and Tilly wondered if he’d heard the surf report and gone back to sleep. Not that it mattered; she’d be less distracted without him there.
She waved to Marlee, waiting in the shallows. ‘Hey, the wind’s shifting to offshore,’ Marlee said. ‘It’s going to pick up. Let’s get out there before everyone hears about it.’ They paddled out with a sense of purpose, excited by the lift in conditions. If they were lucky it’d keep improving and they’d get a free run until the next surf report went out and the car park began to fill.
Marlee was paddling determinedly towards the roll of water heading her way when Kyle pushed past her effortlessly, cutting her off. He laughed at her over his shoulder. ‘Wake up, sleepy head.’
‘Thanks,’ she said crossly, jerking her board away from his and switching direction. But minutes later he was back, challenging her again. The waves began to roll through more steadily now, but each time Marlee lined one up Kyle would wait until she was ready to take off then muscle her to one side. Finally, losing her patience, Marlee held her ground and, just before their boards were about to connect, Kyle backed off, giving her the right of way.
Marlee pushed the anger into her turns. The wave was small but nicely shaped and she cut it to ribbons, practising her backhand turn over and over. She paddled back out, going over the movements in her head, watching as Kyle held back and gave a wave to Tilly.
‘What a gentleman, Kyle, giving waves away,’ Marlee said tightly, coming towards him.
Kyle smiled, swinging his board alongside hers. ‘Can’t you take a joke?’ His body so close to hers set off a jangling Marlee struggled to ignore. ‘Hey,’ he added softly when he saw how annoyed she was. ‘No-one’s going to give you waves in a contest. I’m only trying to help.’
Marlee moved away and sat astride her board, running the ocean through her fingers, humming, looking out to sea. The wind was blowing steadily now and the break was beginning to fill. Kyle was waving to some friends coming towards them when Marlee leaped into action, paddling for a wave Kyle hadn’t noticed.
Kyle tried to catch her but she’d already forgotten he was there, her attention totally absorbed by the decent-sized wave shaping beneath her. She dropped down the face, her weight shifting to make a tight fast turn, then sailed upwards towards open sky, shifting her weight again to change direction, spinning downwards, clutching the side of the board and landing smoothly, then dropping low to keep up her speed as she went into the next turn. Her body buzzed with adrenaline. She’d never pulled that off so smoothly before, but Evelyn’s coaching and Fran’s videos had helped her work out when to shift her weight and correct her footwork. She immediately ran through the movements again in her head, oblivious to Kyle watching.
Tilly was coming towards her. ‘That was amazing! I’ve never seen you turn like that.’
Marlee grinned. ‘Me neither.’ She headed towards the shore.
‘Why are you going in? The surf’s getting better,’ said Tilly.
‘I’m going further down the beach. Kyle’s hassling me for every wave. I’m sick of it. I’ll come back here later when he goes in.’
‘Do you know he watches you all the time? He thinks no-one notices but I’ve seen him do it heaps.’ Tilly caught Marlee’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s do a cross-over and then walk down to the break at Skips.’ They took off on a small friendly wave, pointing their boards slightly away from each other so they wouldn’t hit. ‘Okay, now!’ Tilly yelled. Marlee dropped low on the wave turning right while Tilly swung her board left and up to gain height, laughing as their boards crossed over, riding into shore.
Marlee glanced back and there was Kyle watching them both. She ignored him, and followed Tilly down the beach.
Marlee and Tilly sat on the picnic table wrapped in layers of towels and sweaters, a bucket of hot chips between them. ‘Mmmm, they’re so good.’ Tilly picked out the longes
t chip and drove it into her mouth like a spear. ‘I can feel the heat going right into my stomach.’
Marlee sipped her smoothie, pulling her beanie lower to soothe the ache across her forehead from the cold water. ‘Hey, here’s Franipani.’
Fran carefully laid her tote bag on the ground, the jewellery tinkling as the weight shifted. She grunted. ‘That is so heavy.’ Marlee and Tilly moved sideways to give her a space in the middle then snuggled up to her warm body. ‘You two are freezing,’ she said, squirming.
‘And you’re so warm.’ Marlee moved closer. ‘How were the markets?’
‘Pretty quiet. Winter always is but Christmas in July markets are on next week and it’s worth keeping the stall going for that. I spent most of my time today drawing and staying warm. Hey, there’s Jamie and Pink. They must have followed me up the boardwalk.’
Tilly’s heart tripped up. She’d hardly seen Jamie since she came home from surf camp two months ago even though he kept calling round. She sneaked a look at him with Pink, walking along, laughing as he listened to her talk. Tilly pulled up the hood on her sweater, bunching her knees up, body curled inwards like a shell.
‘Hi there!’ Pink jumped onto the table alongside Marlee, reaching over for a chip while Jamie sat in the only place left – behind Tilly. He poked her playfully in the ribs. ‘Hi, stranger. Going to the party tonight?’ he asked.
Tilly pushed her toes into the soft thick fur around Marnie’s neck and Marnie responded with a smile and long wet tongue. ‘Mmmm, maybe,’ she said, not looking at Jamie.
Jamie shifted off the table so he was at her eye level. ‘Well that’s enthusiasm for you. Can I talk you into it?’
His eyes were warm and soft. She melted, smiling. ‘Maybe.’
‘Another maybe. Boy, I’m going really well here.’ He slung a friendly arm around her shoulder, oblivious to the response going on inside Tilly’s body. She rested her head against his arm, missing the hugs they always shared.
‘Hey,’ Pink interrupted, ‘I’ve seen photos of the house we’re staying in for the contest. You should see it. It’s awesome. Tilly, Marlee, you’re gonna love staying there.’
‘Um, I don’t think I’ll be staying there, Pink,’ said Marlee.
‘Huh? Why not?’
‘Well I wasn’t invited for one thing.’
‘Invited? I’m inviting you,’ said Pink.
Marlee chuckled. ‘Won’t your parents need to be a part of that decision?’
‘So? I’ll talk to them. Where else were you going to stay? There’s only a few holiday rentals near the beach.’ She laughed. ‘And you wouldn’t want to stay in that skanky old camping ground!’
‘Maybe.’ Marlee was pleased to discover that there was a camping ground. That’d cut the costs down. ‘If I go,’ she said, not realising she’d said this aloud until everyone looked at her and she was forced to add, ‘I’m not sure if I’ll have enough money.’
‘Not enough money?’ Pink laughed. ‘Of course you will, it won’t cost that much to get over there.’
Marlee smiled at Pink as she jumped off the table. ‘Maybe not for you, Pink. But it’s not like that for everyone.’ Marlee collected her board and towel, then climbed onto her bike. ‘I’m outta here. See you later.’
‘Tonight?’ Fran called. Marlee shook her head and rode away.
The group was silent, watching the surf with fixed concentration. Pink turned back to the others, upset, confused. ‘What did I say? Surely she has some money, she’s always working …’
‘She means no airfare, no accommodation, no food, no insurance money “no money”,’ snapped Tilly. ‘What’s not to understand about that?’
‘Of course I understand. I’m not a complete idiot.’ Pink, miserable, slid back onto the table, her chin in her hands.
‘Take it easy, Pink’s only trying to help.’ Jamie dropped his arm from around Tilly’s shoulder and she looked away, wishing yet again that she’d kept her mouth shut.
In the uneasy silence that followed, Tilly wondered when Jamie started seeing Pink’s point of view on everything, but this time she bit her tongue. ‘Sorry, Pink,’ she said. ‘But it’s killing Marlee to think that she might not be able to go. She’s even hocked her phone and iPod to get some cash.’
‘Let’s make a T-shirt to sell and raise some money.’ Fran slid off the table, easing her bag onto her shoulder, and Pink, relieved, followed. ‘Come to my place, I’ve got some drawings we could use.’ Fran glanced at Tilly. ‘Coming?’
Jamie tapped Tilly’s arm and she hung back. ‘In a sec,’ she called. The two girls walked towards the crossing and Tilly shifted around so she could see Jamie. ‘So what’s up?’
‘Signed up at TAFE to do a cooking course on Tuesday nights. I came round to see if you wanted to come too but you were out. AGAIN! You must be really busy – what’ve you been doing?’ Jamie dug around in the carton for the last few cold chips.
‘Oh,’ said Tilly, disappointed. ‘That would have been great. Maybe you can teach me what you learn.’ She rocked back, thinking. ‘So, what have I been doing?’ Tilly smiled brightly. ‘Busy training, helping Dad at the Surf School, school work, got grounded for a few days.’
‘How come?’
Tilly rolled her eyes. ‘You don’t want to know.’
Jamie nodded. ‘Do you want a lift to the party tonight?’ he asked.
‘Sure.’ Tilly was delighted. The day had just picked up a few notches. ‘Come and have dinner, hang out for a bit. It’ll be like old times.’
Jamie hesitated. ‘Well I can’t get the car until seven and I’m picking Pink up as well.’
Tilly nodded, smile fixed to her face. ‘Sure. Lift sounds good.’ She hooked her jeans over her arm and gathered up her wetsuit and towel. ‘Well, I’d better go – the others are waiting for me.’ She headed towards the crossing, then smacked her forehead with the back of her hand, retracing her steps. ‘I’m such an idiot. Dad’s got a work thing he asked me to help him with. How about I meet you at the party later?’ Jamie saluted agreement with his finger and Tilly felt a tinge of satisfaction seeing his disappointment. She patted Marnie, waved to Jamie, then crossed the road, but instead of turning left to Fran’s she turned right and went home.
The afternoon sun spilled across the room as Fran pulled back the black-out curtain in her tiny garden shed. It was like turning a light on inside Fran’s imagination. She’d painted the walls a rich yellow with a mosaic of pink, blue and green over the ceiling. Swatches of fabric hung on two walls with drawings pinned to them. A painting covered one wall, with others stacked underneath, and a dressmaker’s dummy, wearing half a blue dress, filled one corner.
Fran unpegged some photos hanging on a small clothesline over the fixing trays and spread them across her work table. They were photos of Marlee from the day of the storm, hair splayed against a black sky, footprints indented in the sand. The photos were different sizes, some cut into shapes, others in colours with features pulled out for emphasis.
Pink was impressed by the way Fran had managed to capture everyday things and make them look so extraordinary. ‘These are fantastic. I’m not just saying that to be nice.’ She lifted a photo, unearthing a sheet of paper with letters spray-painted on like a tag with intricate drawings inside the broad lines. Pink pulled it closer. ‘What’s this?’
‘I love that whole aerosol art thing – you know: letters, shapes, shading. I was just making my own tag for fun.’
‘They’re great,’ Pink enthused. ‘We should do the bus shelter tonight.’ When she saw the look on Fran’s face she added, ‘Only joking. Would you do my initials?’ When Fran hesitated she said quickly, ‘I’ll pay.’
Fran giggled. ‘No you won’t. It’s just that no-one’s ever asked me that before. Sure, I’ll paint them for you.’
‘Gee thanks. Well how about I do something for you?’ She pursed her lips. ‘I’ll think of something.’
Fran laughed. ‘Okay, I’d like that.’
&nb
sp; Pink flopped into the armchair in the corner, checking her watch. ‘I guess Tilly decided not to come,’ she said, a little upset. ‘I always seem to put my foot in it with those two. I either say the wrong thing or do something they don’t like. They make me feel like I’m a flake because I don’t have to worry about money.’
‘Don’t take it to heart,’ Fran said kindly. ‘Marlee can be a bit sensitive sometimes and Tilly – well maybe Tilly’s a bit miffed that Jamie’s hanging around with you more than her these days.’
‘I’d love it if he hung out with her more. Don’t get me wrong, I really like him. I told him that when I returned from boarding school. But since then he has a habit of turning up wherever I am, or he drops in to help me with my homework and my parents love him so they ask him to stay for dinner, or like tonight, he offered me a ride to the party. What do I say? “No, I’d rather jog to the other side of Diamond Beach in my heels?” Maybe I need to find ways to get the two of them together more.’ Pink shook her head, unsure how to fix it. ‘What should I do, Fran?’
‘Just tell him. Tell Jamie that you like him but not as in like like, but just like.’ She laughed. ‘That’s a lot of “likes” isn’t it!’
‘But I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Do you realise that Jamie’s the first boy I’ve ever had as a friend? I don’t want to spoil that.’
‘Not sure if I follow your logic but it’s your choice.’ Fran held up some sketches. ‘So, let’s see if there’s anything we can use for a T-shirt.’
Pink sifted through the images, putting some to one side. ‘Hey this is great and it’d look good in black and white. That’d be cheaper to produce than colour, too. I can find out how much it’d cost and how long it’ll take to print them up.’
Fran did a little jig. ‘Sounds good. How exciting! People buying my clothes!’
‘Well it won’t be the last time if I get my way,’ Pink said, sounding mysterious.
Surf Sisters Page 7
