Surf Sisters

by Laurine Croasdale

  Pink stood on the platform next to Fizz clapping to the beat of the music. She spotted Tilly in the crowd, arms and neck covered with glowing yellow bracelets, a neon green Eiffel Tower shining like a beacon on top of her head, eyes shut, yelling out the words to a song, then Pink skimmed across the heads trying to find Tony. Instead, her eyes fell on Jamie, waving to her and pointing to the other side of the skate ramp.

  She smiled uncertainly, wishing now that she hadn’t put off talking to him earlier and before that thought had even faded he was in front of her, taking her hand and pulling her behind him to the small copse of trees where the music was slightly muted. Pink quickly glanced over her shoulder hoping for rescue but Tony was nowhere to be seen.

  When the music stopped and Tilly opened her eyes, Pink and Jamie were the first things she saw. As a new track kicked in, the bodies around her surged like a restless sea but Tilly stood still as a lighthouse, all the music drained from her body. Jamie and Pink were disappearing together and an overwhelming sense of misery and anger enveloped her.

  The small group of trees cut the noise only slightly. Pink fidgeted nervously, eager to get back to the party, wishing they could have this conversation another day. ‘Thanks for doing the barbecue, it was great. I’m sorry we didn’t get time to talk today. It’s been really busy …’

  Jamie stopped her. ‘That’s okay. I know that. But I need to explain something really important and it can’t wait. You see, I really like you Pink and I know we have heaps of fun, but it’s meant that I don’t get to see Tilly anymore and it’s starting to drive me crazy. All I can think about is how much I miss her and want to be with her. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I have to sort it out. But I couldn’t do that until I’d told you.’ He raked his hands through his hair and for the first time Pink noticed his unshaven face, his restlessness, as though his worries were trapped in his muscles. ‘Do you understand?’

  Pink patted his shoulder. ‘Sure, I understand. Tilly’s the best.’ She kissed him. ‘Go talk to her. You’ll always be a great mate.’

  Tilly climbed the ladder up the ramp, her fingers clammy in spite of the cold metal. She saw the anguish on Jamie’s face as he spoke rapidly to Pink, almost pleading with her and then Pink laughed, a casual hand resting on his shoulder as she reached up and kissed him on the lips.

  All she wanted to do now was escape. She’d been a fool to think that Jamie had any special feelings for her and here was her proof.

  The music fell silent and with it her thoughts. Tilly brushed the tears off her cheeks, glancing at Jamie one last time as she began to descend the ladder. Pink had disappeared and Jamie, walking back to the party, spotted her. He was now looking at her intently, a silly grin on his face. Never had Tilly wanted to wipe it off so comprehensively than right now. How dare he mock her, make her feel even more foolish than she did. She jumped to the ground, ignoring his wave, relieved that the music had kicked back in. Tilly pushed through the crowd, darting across the road to the park, the quickest way home.

  ‘Tilly! Wait!’ Jamie ran, his long legs easily outpacing hers, but he was still out of breath by the time he caught her. He grabbed her arm, wrestling with her to stop. ‘Tilly,’ he gasped. ‘Stop! I need to talk to you. It’s important. It’s about us.’

  But he didn’t get time to finish. Tilly pushed him away sharply, wiping her tears on her sleeve. ‘There is no “us”,’ she yelled, furious. ‘If I’d had the guts to tell you how I felt in the first place then maybe it would’ve been different. But I didn’t so I hope you and Pink are happy.’

  She turned to go but Jamie threw his arms around her, struggling to stop her from running away. ‘I don’t want to be with Pink. I want to be with you.’

  ‘Well, thanks a lot!’ Tilly stamped down hard on Jamie’s foot, then snapped her arms outwards to break his grip. She felt like screaming with the rage bottled up inside. ‘One minute you’re kissing Pink and now, when she tells you about Tony, you finally decide you want to be with me,’ she sobbed. ‘Well it doesn’t work like that.’ She took a step back, yelling. ‘You don’t make me fall in love with you and then treat me like this. I won’t be the rebound girl – even for you. I only hung out with you because you were shy and I felt sorry for you. But I don’t anymore!’ She lurched forward and pushed him again, harder, still crying. ‘Go away. I hate you.’

  Jamie’s head snapped back as though Tilly had punched him. His reaction was enough to stop her and in the ugly silence that followed, Tilly wished that she could open her mouth and let the words climb back in. Jamie didn’t move, his body limp, his face a mixture of sorrow, anger, hurt. He took a few steps backwards, looking at Tilly as though he’d just bumped into a stranger, then turned and walked quickly away.

  From a distance, the party, with its lights and bustle of people, looked like a fairground. But Tilly ran in the opposite direction, through the quiet darkness of the park. She looked back once to see Jamie slumped on a seat at the bus stop, head in his hands, before he was swallowed up by a new group of partygoers getting off the bus.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘Wake up, sleepy head. It’s offshore. If we go now we’ll beat the crowds.’ Once she’d finally got to sleep, Tilly’d slept so deeply that the tinkle of her wind chimes forecasting the offshore wind had failed to wake her. She reached out impulsively, pulling her dad onto the bed and hugging him to her. He stroked her hair. ‘You were home early last night. Everything all right?’

  ‘Not really.’ Tilly’s eyes were still puffy from crying. ‘I hate boys.’

  Phil smiled sympathetically. ‘Any boy in particular or is that world inclusive?’

  ‘Just one,’ Tilly mumbled, and now that she was awake the image of Jamie’s face as he stumbled backwards replayed on a continuous sickening loop.

  ‘Come on,’ Phil said gently. ‘Let’s go for a surf and then have breakfast. What do you say?’

  ‘Just you and me?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘Just the two of us.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘Meet you outside.’

  Still raw from her fight with Jamie last night, Tilly felt tired and subdued. She’d shot her mouth off again and now she felt gutted that she’d shattered any friendship they’d had. She pushed her thoughts away, forcing herself to join her father outside in the bright morning. The pound of the surf, steady as a heartbeat, beckoned.

  Over the last week a springtime bustle had swept along the beach, with the rise in temperature coaxing the volleyballers to reset their nets and families with young kids had returned, their beach umbrellas springing up across the sand like oversized flowers.

  Tilly’s heart soared as she watched the waves peeling into the beach, mist fanning upwards from the crests. It was her favourite wave of any season, any beach and it made her smile in gratitude for nature sharing its gifts and for her dad carrying her board like he did when she was little, a protective arm around her. ‘Your mum’d love this. Early morning was always her favourite time of day.’

  ‘I miss Mum,’ Tilly said, feeling emotional. ‘It’s not the same.’

  ‘It never will be, love. We can only make the best of how it is now,’ said Phil softly.

  ‘I don’t like how it is now.’ Tears dropped onto her wetsuit and she brushed them away, angry that they’d sabotaged her again when she was trying to say something important. ‘You’re always at work and when you’re home you’re with Barb. There’s no you-and-me time. How long’s it been since we did this?’

  Phil pushed the boards into the sand and hugged Tilly. ‘Too long. You’re absolutely right. Since getting out of hospital I’ve been caught up with getting things back on track. But the business is powering and I have you to thank for a lot of that.’

  ‘We were a good team, weren’t we?’ Tilly folded her arms across her chest and turned towards the ocean. ‘But it’s different now. Sometimes I feel like Mum never existed. Even after she died she was still a part of us – we talked about her, she was included in th
e house. But now it’s like Mum’s been swept away and Barb’s there.’

  ‘Tilly, listen to me,’ Phil said patiently. ‘No-one – no-one – can or will replace your mother. Ever. She’ll always be a part of us. But it’s true. Barb’s come into our lives. She’s fun and generous, she cares about us and she makes the place feel like a home again. I want that for you and so did your mother. We talked about this when she was ill.’

  Tilly had never considered that her mum would be happy – would actually want someone to take her place. She watched the spray feathering off the crests, thinking this through. Finally Phil added, ‘You know what, Til? This is the happiest I’ve been since your mum died. One day you and Sam’ll be gone and I’ll be on my own. I’d like to share my life with someone else.’

  Tilly slid her arms around her dad’s waist, head against his chest. ‘I won’t leave you, Dad. I promise.’

  Phil laughed gently. ‘You will, my love, and that’s how it should be. You need to live your life and I have to get on with mine.’ He turned her head towards the water, pointing. ‘You know spring’s here when you see the surfboats out training.’ Tilly watched the rowers heave the heavy wooden boats over the swells, lifting their oars as they crashed down the other side. Phil picked up his board. ‘C’mon, let’s get wet.’

  The water cleared Tilly’s head immediately and she was glad to focus on nothing except catching wave after wave until the break became so crowded she and Phil spent longer and longer waiting for a turn. ‘You’ve improved out of sight,’ said Phil, impressed. ‘Fizz has really honed your style.’

  ‘You reckon?’

  Phil nodded. ‘You’re fitter, too. I wish I was that fit again,’ he said, a little wistful.

  ‘Sure you don’t want to come to the contest, Dad?’ Tilly thought it was worth one last try.

  ‘If I could I would, believe me,’ he said. ‘I’m sick of waiting for waves – let’s give it away and get breakfast.’ At the crossing Phil took Tilly’s board again. ‘You grab a table while I put the boards back and pick up a couple of sweatshirts.’

  ‘Shall I order?’ Tilly called after him.

  ‘Good idea. Surprise me.’

  ‘Truth is, Til …’ Phil said when he returned, ‘I know it’s happened quickly but Barb and I both know that we want to be together.’ He leaned across the table, his voice dropping. ‘In fact, I’d like her to move in with us. We can be a family again – and even though it won’t be the same as it was, it can still be good.’ Tilly could sense her father struggling to explain without upsetting her and she tried to look happy for his sake. ‘But we won’t do anything unless I know you and Sam are happy about it.’

  ‘So you’ve asked Barb?’

  Phil shook his head. ‘Not outright but we’ve talked about it.’

  ‘Have you talked to Sam?’

  ‘Sam thinks it’s good. He likes Barb and I think he misses your mum more than he’d ever admit.’ He gave Tilly time to take in this information. ‘If Barb moved in we could sell her place and use that money to renovate. You could have a room with a view of the surf.’

  Tilly was quiet for a moment. ‘North or south?’

  ‘Right across Millie’s Break.’ Phil pointed back over his shoulder.

  Tilly smiled at her father’s reference to the little sandbar that Tilly and Marlee named after themselves when they were ten. ‘It’d be pretty shallow to agree just so I could get my dream bedroom.’

  ‘It would,’ Phil agreed. ‘All the wrong reasons. So think about it and let me know. If we do this, we all make a commitment or it doesn’t happen.’

  ‘I was wrong about Barb,’ Tilly said. ‘She’s okay. I’m sorry I’ve behaved so badly about it all.’

  Phil squeezed her hand. ‘Maybe Barb needs to be the one to hear that, but thanks for telling me too.’

  ‘I’m a legend, legend, legend,’ Pink wanted to sing loudly, but she’d talked so much yesterday and screamed so much last night that her voice fell silent around midnight just as the police arrived to shut them down. She made do with a croaky hum, giving a little skip thinking about the huge crowd that’d turned up. And she thought she’d be working forever to pay the thing off! They ended up with over twice the number of people they were hoping for. She patted the cheque in her pocket and skipped up the boardwalk to Fran’s.

  Fran, Marlee and Tilly squeezed around Fran’s work table. For once the table was clear of all fabrics, drawings and paints, and Marlee ran her finger over the letters of Fran’s name where she’d scratched them into the tabletop years before. She yawned happily thinking about last night, Jordie auctioning one of his boards for her, the great music, the quick dance with Kyle. It’d been worth the late night cleaning up. Marlee yawned again, setting off a flurry of yawns from the other two, and reached over to pour herself a juice, eyeing off the pastries that Fran’s father had provided.

  Tilly checked her watch. ‘She should be here by now.’

  ‘Maybe she took the money and went to Brazil,’ Fran joked.

  Just then the door knob rattled and Pink slipped through the door waving a cheque, her smile dazzling. She spoke but no-one heard a thing and they gathered around, straining to hear. ‘We did it!’ Pink croaked.

  They all laughed, including Pink.

  ‘Listen to you!’ said Fran. ‘You’re hoarse.’

  ‘So how much did we make?’ Tilly flapped her arms about impatiently, unable to wait any longer.

  ‘Nearly three thousand dollars!’ Pink rasped then threw her arms out, gathering them in for a group hug.

  Fran and Tilly cheered loudly, and Pink made a scratchy gurgling sound, clutching at Marlee, spinning her around.

  Fran, noticing Marlee’s reticence, took the cheque off Pink, put it into her hand and closed her fingers over it. ‘Sometimes, Marlee Rose Finn, you have to understand that accepting is part of giving. Sometimes you give, sometimes you let your friends give to you, and we will not let you deny us our moment of joy. So take it. Go to Shipwreck and do your best. Oh, and go and get your phone back so we can call you again.’

  ‘Yeah, you absolutely have to take it,’ Tilly added. ‘We spent ages getting this together. Especially Pink. She worked on this nonstop for weeks.’

  A series of squeaky sounds came out of Pink’s mouth and she moved her hands faster as though that would help them understand what she was saying.

  Marlee laughed. ‘Thanks, Pink.’ Then she turned to Fran and Tilly. ‘And thanks for helping, the amazing photos and, well, everything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.’ Marlee held up the cheque. ‘This means more to me than any contest, but I promise I will do you proud.’

  Ure gunna rip, Pink wrote quickly on a sheet of paper. Pink gave the thumbs up and wrote again. Dad saw pix of the party in paper. Wants me to do stuff for Is B, specially if I lose my voice after each one!!!

  That afternoon, Marlee told her mother the news, then pulled out photos of her friends and pinned them to her Wall of Fame. Even though it was almost a month until she left, Marlee had a list of what to pack done by evening. Her new board, still too special to leave out in the cold, rested against the wall. Marlee climbed into bed and clicked on the TV, unable to believe her good fortune or her good friends. This contest is meant to be, she thought and she really needed to explain that to someone who would understand. She pulled out a clean sheet of paper and started a letter to her father.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Tilly whipped her head from side to side. It felt so light and her hair tickled the back of her neck, now exposed to the warm spring sunshine. She lingered near a shop window, checking out her sassy, glossy short hair, and decided that, at a pinch, she could pass for eighteen. She winked at her new self then bought a bunch of freesias, drinking in the scent, before making her way to the Chinese supermarket to buy ingredients for dinner.

  A week had passed since the party and Tilly had kept herself as busy as possible, going to school and upping her training routine as the contest date ap
proached. Physically, her fitness and surfing were at their peak, but mentally – well, there were a few loose ends and, if they weren’t addressed soon, she’d be taking them with her when she went away.

  Jamie was at the top of her list but no matter how many letters she’d started, she couldn’t find the words that would undo the hurt she felt by his actions or what she’d said. It had taken only three words to destroy every good thing between them. Hate, she realised, was a word with nuclear power and the fallout was devastating. She couldn’t face him, not yet, but she needed to make things right and she didn’t know how.

  She caught her reflection in another shop window and smiled at the new her, even though her eyes betrayed her lack of confidence. After her final stop for food, she made her way home.

  ‘Jeez, you cut your hair! That’s major,’ said Sam, looking up from his Wii box.

  ‘Yep,’ Tilly smiled, wiggling her shoulders. ‘What do you think?’

  Sam shrugged, uninterested. ‘It’s short.’

  ‘Too short?’ Tilly’s confidence crumbled, and she checked the mirror for reassurance, not sure now that she’d done the right thing.

  ‘Nah, it’ll grow.’

  Chastened, Tilly opened the kitchen door where Barb was making a cup of tea. ‘Wow!’

  ‘Do you like it?’ Tilly asked, totally uncertain now.

  Barb walked full circle around Tilly. ‘It’s sensational, Tilly. You look more grown up and …’ she weighed it up, ‘quite sophisticated.’

  Tilly smiled gratefully. ‘Thanks.’ She ran her hand over her bare neck. ‘Sam didn’t seem to like it.’

  Barb waved a hand towards the lounge room and said jokingly, ‘Ah, boys! What do they know.’

  ‘Yeah. You’re right.’ Tilly held up a brown paper bag. ‘The old Tilly’s in here. I’m donating it to those people who make wigs for women who’ve been through chemo. I think Mum’d be happy about that.’