Surf Sisters

by Laurine Croasdale

  In the soft light they could get a much clearer sense of where they were. The house was set back on the sheltered part of a large headland that sloped down to cliffs dropping to a wide sweep of beach. Waves peeled off the point at the far end and in between were beach and reef breaks, all with great waves. The salt was suspended in the early morning sunshine and both girls stared silently at the beauty before them.

  ‘Wow, Shipwreck,’ Marlee whispered eventually. ‘I can’t believe we’re here.’ She handed Tilly her disposable camera and stood with the beach in the background. ‘Here, can you take a photo?’

  ‘Look at that right.’ Tilly pointed to a break way down the beach. ‘Let’s get out there while it’s still quiet.’ They shuffled through the pack of boards until they found theirs, grabbed their gear then raced through the house to find the bus driver.

  The smell of pancakes wafted towards them. Christie met them on the steps carrying jugs of juice towards the dining room while a couple of other people were setting the long tables for breakfast. ‘Good morning,’ Christie said brightly. ‘That’s what I like to see: keen girls ready to go.’

  ‘The surf’s great,’ Tilly said. ‘Can you save some food for when we get back?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘Well, I’ve organised a welcome breakfast and then there’s a team talk straight after.’ Christie glanced at Marlee. ‘You’re welcome to stay and eat, Marlee, but you’re free to go surfing after that. I’d expect that you’ll want to stay on, Tilly. There’ll be plenty of time to surf over the next week.’

  ‘Oh, sure.’ Tilly looked at Marlee, crestfallen.

  ‘Thanks for the offer, Christie.’ Marlee kept walking towards the door.

  Tilly raced after her. ‘Aren’t you going to stay?’

  ‘And be the only one who has to leave after breakfast? No thanks. I’d rather be in the water,’ Marlee said shortly.

  ‘Just go with it, Marlee, we always do this team stuff. It won’t take long.’ Tilly put her board down at the front entrance. ‘It’s all part of the deal.’

  Marlee loaded her board in the back of the van then climbed in the front seat next to Bobby, one of the drivers. ‘For you, maybe, but I’m a free agent and I’d rather be in the water than listening to talk for the next few hours.’ She ruffled Tilly’s hair. ‘See you out there, shorty. Enjoy the pow-wow!’

  Bobby slowed the bus at a fork in the road. ‘The main part of the beach is that way but I’ll drop you at the point because it works best in this wind.’ He veered down a track past a row of tiny cabins in a camping ground, its patchy grass thinned out by kangaroos and months of drought. It straggled out completely near a thicket of trees and beyond that Marlee noticed a lush carpet of purple wildflowers. Bobby stopped near a walkway. ‘There you go. I’ll be up and down to the house all day so keep an eye out for me or call if you get stuck. Be polite to the locals,’ he called out as he drove away.

  The walkway, made with slightly uneven timber planks just wide enough for two people with boards to pass, rattled beneath her feet as she walked through the forest. Dead vegetation coated the forest floor, muffling all sound, and massive trees soared upwards forming a canopy full of birds. As Marlee reached the viewing platform the roar of the surf washed over her, and salt hazed the air like gauze.

  The wild sweep of beach took her breath away with its beauty and raw power. She rested her board against the rail among the discarded thongs and bikes, and watched a gull wheeling, its right wing skimming the water, taking in the selection of breaks before turning her attention to a couple of locals walking tentatively over the oyster shells jutting out of the rock platform. They launched themselves into the ocean, paddling out to where waves were breaking overhead, brushed into shape by the south-westerly peeling fast off the point.

  Marlee dropped her towel and followed them out to the platform, picking her way through the shells. A wave smashed against the rocks, foam covering her feet. She waited until it had passed then, before the swell could rise again, threw herself and her board into the lull of water, as far away from the rocks as possible. She paddled towards the small group of locals lined up in the take-off zone watching her approach. Marlee smiled, paddling past them all until she was sure she was at the end of the line.

  An old guy with a ripped wetsuit called over, ‘Howdy! Where you from?’ He spat into the water, eyes never leaving the swell.

  ‘East coast,’ Marlee said shyly.

  He nodded. ‘Better get a surf in while you can. There’s some stupid contest on soon. All the stars are coming to get their photos taken.’ There were a few chuckles among the group, but once the new set came in the small talk stopped and their focus turned back to the waves.

  Two hours later the Island Breeze girls arrived, their chat and laughter audible over the pound of surf. Marlee sat among the locals watching the group in their bright surf gear straggling onto the viewing platform. She sat, embarrassed, when they waved and called out to her, and felt relieved when she pushed herself onto a wave. The swell had already begun to drop but the wave still had plenty of speed and Marlee lost herself in it as she cut across its surface. When it faded, she dropped onto her stomach and rode it in to the shallows. Foam flecked the water milk-white and Marlee could feel her stomach cramp, her legs weak as she made her way up the sand towards Tilly.

  ‘So, how was it?’ Marlee asked. ‘What did you find out?’

  Tilly shrugged, eyes on the point. ‘Usual stuff. Not worth missing a surf for. Christie’s got games planned for tonight.’

  Marlee’s eyes lit up. ‘Cool. I love games. Hey, I’m starving. Seen any shops?’

  ‘You’ve just missed the bus back but there’s a little shop near the beach. You could try that. See you back in the water?’

  Warm food and a hot shower hit the spot and, back at the house, Marlee drifted off to sleep on one of the soft chairs on the veranda. There was a buzz of activity inside as Christie and her helpers set up the games room ready for the evening. While she was waiting for the others Marlee decided she’d make a beeline for the air hockey, her all-time favourite – closely followed by pool, pinball and any other game that involved winning.

  When the dinner things were cleared away the girls raced downstairs to the games room, which had been decorated with coloured balloons and Island Breeze banners. A large whiteboard stood in one corner.

  Christie called them together and Marlee fidgeted next to Tilly, one hand already laying claim to the air hockey table.

  ‘Okay, tonight’s games night. I want you all to split into two teams.’ She looked around the group. ‘Marlee and Jasmine, perhaps you two would help with the scoring. Members from each team will rotate around each activity and Marlee and Jasmine will record your scores on the whiteboard. The team with the most points wins this prize.’ Christie pointed to seven gift bags bulging with goodies, but as the others oohed and ahhed over the prizes, Marlee’s hand slid off the table and, disappointed, she sat down on one of the seats.

  Pink nudged her leg. ‘Here’s your pad and pen, Marlee. Gather the scores and, when you can, write them up on the board. Do you want to cover the air hockey and the activities on that side?’

  ‘Sure.’ Marlee wanted to throw the pad and pen across the room but she smiled at Pink and took the notepad.

  With their toes pushed into the corners of their sleeping bags, hoods over their heads, Marlee and Tilly waddled out to the veranda for their early-morning surf check. ‘That’s it,’ said Tilly emphatically. ‘It’s pumping out there and I’m going surfing. I don’t care what Christie says.’

  ‘Meet you at the van. Get some food for me.’ Marlee raced downstairs.

  Tilly quickly collected her board from the stack, then filled her bag with whatever food she could grab. ‘What are you doing?’ Tilly asked when Marlee reappeared with all her bags hooked across her shoulders, carrying her boards.

  She stowed them in the back of the bus, then climbed in, sliding the door shut. ‘Can you drop me at the cam
ping ground, please, Bobby?’

  ‘So that’s why you had so much gear. You brought camping stuff!’ Tilly was put out. ‘Why would you want to stay in a stinky old tent when you can stay here in luxury?’

  ‘It’s not stinky, I splashed out and bought a new one. Anyway, the house might be luxurious to you but I feel like the hired help. I packed the tent in case I needed an out and I’m glad I did,’ whispered Marlee.

  ‘But you can’t just up and leave.’

  ‘I’ve already upped and left.’ Marlee grinned. ‘And it feels great. It’s closer to the surf and I can come and go when I want.’

  ‘What will your mother say? And Christie?’ Tilly asked, exasperated.

  Marlee shrugged. ‘I don’t care what Christie says. It’s not like she wants me there, anyway. And Mum was okay with me camping but she doesn’t know I’m on my own. Unless you tell her.’

  ‘As if I’d do that.’ Tilly held onto Marlee’s arm. ‘Stay, Marlee. It won’t be as much fun without you.’

  The van stopped. ‘Can’t. I’m not going to be Christie’s little errand girl.’ Marlee slid the door back. ‘Come and stay with me. We’ll have more fun in the tent.’

  Tilly sat back, arms folded. ‘I’m part of the team, Marlee. I can’t just walk out.’

  ‘Well I’m not part of the team and that’s why I’m walking out.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Tilly, watching as Marlee unloaded her gear. ‘Why do you always make things harder for yourself than they need to be? Just give it another chance.’

  Marlee balanced her boards across her bags like a seesaw. She smiled at Tilly. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to be difficult, but I’m not a part of the team or the house. Besides, it’s quiet here and I can surf whenever.’

  ‘Okay.’ Tilly shrugged. ‘Have it your own way. I’ll see you in the surf.’ Tilly closed the van door, leaving Marlee to set up camp alone.

  ‘I’ll see you down there,’ Marlee yelled. But the van had turned back up the track and her words were lost.

  The camping area was virtually deserted except for a couple of grey nomads, their massive mobile home parked conveniently close to the amenities block. Trees reached out and touched the sky, dotting the ground with pools of shade. Marlee sat on her pack scanning the surroundings before she picked a site on the far side, near the bush path leading to the beach.

  With six days to go before the contest started it was worth spending a little time making her camp as comfy as possible. Marlee picked up all the stones she could before setting up her new four-man tent. Her sleeping bag and gear fitted in easily and she secured the fly sheet as best she could, tapping pegs into the hard ground with a rock.

  Her cooking equipment amounted to one jaffle iron and a picnic backpack someone had given her mother that had a tiny chopping board, two plates, two cups, two glasses and cutlery. Not much but it’d do, and with the money the girls had given her she’d have enough to cover food with a splurge here and there. She stacked some kindling alongside the fireplace then perched on a rock she’d rolled close to the fire, while the steady purr of surf rumbling in the distance. Even though she’d missed her surf with Tilly, she felt calm and happy and spent her day settling in and buying some food.

  At dusk, she twisted up paper she’d found in the bin and threw some logs over the top. The flame flared, ripping through the paper, dying almost as quickly, leaving her surrounded by blackness. She tried again, this time adding more kindling, but the flame sucked up the dampness, spewing out funnels of smoke. Coughing, eyes stinging, Marlee tried twice more, wondering now if she’d made the right decision. The moon cast angular shadows from the tree branches across the hard-packed earth and a chill rose up from the ground. A tawny frogmouth hooted, its cry hollow and eerie. Cold and hungry, she gave up, climbing into her sleeping bag and doing up the tent ties tightly.

  The night was clear and biting and in spite of wearing every piece of clothing she had Marlee shivered, tossing and turning. She thought about Carly curled up on the couch in her pyjamas watching The Simpsons, her mum in the kitchen working through a basket of ironing and her dad’s letter from the contest in New Zealand, until finally the first rays of morning sun touched the sides of the tent.

  She drifted into a short deep sleep, waking with a start, then jogged around the campground, stopping where the sun shafted down through the trees to stretch and get the knots out of her body. When she felt warm again, she made her way to the beach.

  Jogging along the shore trying to warm up she spotted a reef break she’d noticed before. It was throwing out a perfect right-hander and even though it was a long paddle from the beach, there wasn’t one person out there. Excited, a little scared, she raced back for her board, wishing Tilly was with her.

  Hours later, just as Marlee was ready to paddle in, the Island Breeze team straggled down the sand, stopping for photos. They looked weary, wistfully watching the surf while Christie organised photos. Before they could get into the water, Marlee paddled away from them, exiting further up the beach and returning to her campsite unnoticed.

  Whorls of smoke followed Marlee wherever she moved. Her eyes streamed and she turned away, coughing hard, dancing to the far side of the fire before trying again with the last match she had. The hot shower had warmed her slightly and even though the sun was warm there’d only be cold food and another long, cold night ahead unless she could get the fire going.

  ‘That’s not how you light a fire! Marlee, you are so not a camper!’ Tilly put her board next to Marlee’s, still wet from the surf. ‘Brrr, that water’s freezing.’ She pulled Marlee’s towel off the tree branch and dried her hair. ‘Getting my hair cut was the best thing ever! I only have to rub it once and it’s practically dry.’

  Tilly bent to examine the fire, dying slowly. ‘It needs more air. Watch.’ She spread the kindling out, filling underneath with fresh newspaper and blowing gently as flames licked through the thin sticks. A strong flame burst upwards and as the fire crackled and spat with life she crisscrossed thicker branches on top. ‘Christie was asking where you were last night.’ Marlee said nothing. Her leg jiggled up and down and Tilly put her hand on top to stop it. ‘I told her you’d gone.’ Then she added, a little defensively, ‘She had to find out sooner or later.’

  Tilly and Marlee both leaned forward at the same time, hands spread towards the heat now coming off the fire. ‘I don’t care if Christie knows. There was no agreement that I had to stay there. I’m more relaxed here, even if it is cold and a bit lonely.’

  ‘I can understand that. Christie’s making some kind of promo DVD. So far we’ve had cameras in our face from the time we wake up until we go to bed. And last night some of the girls decided to party so I didn’t get to sleep until 2 am.’

  ‘Move down here with me. There’s plenty of room in the tent. Have to charge you rent though!’

  Tilly laughed. ‘Might take you up on that.’ She peeled off her wettie in front of the fire and hung it on a branch. ‘Brrr, got a hoodie I can borrow?’

  ‘I’ve only got three so you’ll have to leave it when you go. I needed them all last night.’

  ‘Got any food?’ Tilly stretched and yawned. ‘And then I’m ready for a kip.’

  ‘I’ve got half a loaf of bread, some cheese and the jaffle iron.’

  ‘Sounds good. Let’s eat – I’m starving.’

  Later, Tilly curled up in the sun and went straight to sleep. Marlee walked around the grounds returning with a billy left by some campers then stacked a fresh pile of logs and kindling near the fire. ‘Hey, look, we can boil water or cook a casserole now!’

  At sunset Tilly lingered, reluctant to leave Marlee on her own. ‘Will you be okay here by yourself? I’m sorry I can’t stay.’

  ‘Yep. I’m fine. More campers rolled in today so there are people around if I need them.’

  ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’ She hugged Marlee tightly. ‘What do you want me to tell Christie if she asks about you?’

  ‘
Tell her I’m here and I’m fine. And tell her my mother knows I’m here so it’s not her responsibility. Not that she’d care.’

  ‘Have you told your mother?’ Tilly asked.

  ‘As if!’ And she laughed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Clumps of reeds, stiff as hairbrushes, were tipped with gold from the sunrise and the fine white sand sifted coolly through Marlee’s toes. The sun climbed, the light strengthened, and the colours deepened, losing their hazy softness as the world stepped into real time. Marlee crouched on the sand, board resting across her thighs, and scraped a bar of wax across its light blue surface. The tide was low and she focused on a new bank she’d seen that was turning out some decent waves.

  ‘Excuse me.’

  Marlee glanced sideways. A man in his fifties, wiry, skin brown and leathery, was making his way towards her. She glanced the other way to see who he was talking to.

  He laughed. ‘Yes, I’m talking to you.’

  The stranger shook her hand, passing over a business card. Marlee recognised the famous logo immediately – it was the company Pink called Betty Bumcrack, the one which had concerns about her representing their brand. ‘I’m Dayne Scanlon, I check out talent for the brand. I’ve been watching you surf these last few days. You’re doing some damage on that board! You from the area?’

  ‘No. I’m here for the contest. I’m Marlee Finn.’

  ‘Jack’s daughter?’

  Marlee blushed, feeling proud. ‘Yep.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got your old man’s talent, that’s for sure. Do you have a sponsor?’ Marlee shook her head, not daring to speak, the rejection letter on her wall clearly visible in her mind. ‘Well maybe we could talk a bit more about that if you’re interested. Have you got a mobile I can contact you on?’