One Endless Summer

by Laurie Ellingham

  CHAPTER 23

  Lizzie

  Lizzie stared at the mascara stick waving frantically back and forth in her left hand. ‘It’s just the excitement,’ she said to her reflection. ‘Excitement and hunger and exhaustion from the night flight. Get a grip.’ She pulled a face but her hand continued to shake and dance in front of her. What was it with airport toilets? Lizzie watched the colour drain from her face as the foggy memory of Bangkok airport filled her head. She didn’t remember the seizure, not really, but she remembered the smell and the fuzzy out-of-body feeling of watching herself slide to the floor.

  Lizzie swallowed hard and swapped hands before swiping the brush over her lashes. This was different. It would pass, just like it always did. She leant forward and surveyed the results. Her right eye looked fine, but the lashes on her left eye had stuck together like spider legs.

  She sighed and added an extra swipe to her right eye to match.

  Lizzie snapped the straps of her backpack together and surveyed her reflection one more time. She’d dug out the loose brown and orange tunic dress her mum had bought her for Christmas. It was the nicest outfit she had with her.

  ‘I saw it in the summer sales and thought it would be perfect for you. It’s lightweight and will fold really small,’ her mum had said in a giddy voice amidst the mountain of red and green wrapping paper surrounding the living room. Her mum lived for Christmas. Wherever Lizzie was on the first of December she always thought of her mum, unpacking the umpteen boxes of decorations from the loft and beginning the day-long task of transforming the house. Most of all, though, her mum loved spoiling them all. Christmas was her season.

  Later, Lizzie had found her crying in the kitchen. Deep wrenching sobs had heaved through her mum’s body causing tears to form in Lizzie’s own eyes. She’d gone to her mum and wrapped her in a tight hug.

  ‘I’ve ruined the turkey pan,’ her mum had said in a shuddering whisper. ‘That’s why I’m crying. It was a wedding gift from my mother. We’ve had it for donkey’s years.’

  Lizzie had rubbed her mum’s back and hugged her tighter. They’d both known it had had nothing to do with the turkey pan.

  Fresh tears welled in Lizzie’s eyes thinking of that last Christmas with her family. She blinked them back and yanked open the restroom door. She had to get moving before any more of her past caught up with her. Or did she mean her future? Lizzie wasn’t sure.

  Ben stood waiting for her where she’d left him. The sharpness of his buzz cut had started to grow out. He really wasn’t the same guy who’d snapped at her on the aeroplane at the start of their trip. Perhaps that was just because she knew him better now. She knew he was grumpy first thing in the morning, or all day if there wasn’t any coffee going. She knew how he preferred vegetables to meat because of a time when he was six and choked on a mouthful of chicken, and how the taste still reminded him of the feeling of choking. She knew that behind the serious cameraman was an intuitive person who had an uncanny knack for sensing when to switch off the camera and step away, allowing them time alone together. In the same way, he seemed to know just the moment to turn it on, like when they’d been snorkelling near the Phi Phi Islands and three blacktip reef sharks had swam right up to them. One moment Ben had been swimming, the next he was back on the boat with his camera out capturing the whole thing.

  ‘Where are the others?’ she said, keeping her left arm close to her side. The juddering had eased to a tremor but she didn’t want Ben or the others to see it. The last thing she needed was for Jaddi and Samantha to start worrying about her again.

  ‘I told them to go through and get us some coffees.’

  ‘Good thinking.’

  ‘Ready?’ he asked.

  ‘I guess,’ she said, staring ahead. Her eagerness to get moving faltered. A pressure closed in around her, squeezing her tight. Once they stepped through into the arrivals hall, they’d be on the second part of their journey. One month down, two to go. There wasn’t enough time.

  ‘Why are you nervous?’ Ben asked.

  Her eyes shot to his face. His tone was direct, as if his camera was on his shoulder, but it was just him.

  Ben returned her stare, the rich brown of his eyes, flecked with green, willing her to move closer just like they had in Cambodia.

  ‘I’m not nervous,’ she lied, bouncing forwards.

  Their arms brushed against each other as they rounded the corner into the arrivals terminal. The dipping rollercoaster of their kiss filled her head and whipped around her body. Why, after weeks of successfully ignoring it, why, when she was just about to meet Harrison again, someone she really liked, was she thinking about that insane kiss with Ben? Before she could consider the answer, a burst of camera flashes dazzled her eyes. A dozen voices fired at her from behind a barrier.

  ‘Lizzie, how does it feel to be in Australia?’

  ‘Lizzie, how are you feeling?’

  ‘What will you be doing on your stay?’

  ‘Lizzie, over here, give us a smile.’

  The shock was a brick wall and she’d slammed right into it. Who were these people? Why were they here? Even as her mind asked the questions, even as she sidestepped into the crook of Ben’s arm, even as he caught her hand in his, pulling her back and stepping in front of her like a human shield, she knew the answer – they were for here for The Girl with Three Months to Live. They were here for her.

  ‘Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie!’ a familiar voice rang out over the questions.

  Her eyes roamed the crowd until she saw him. She stepped out from Ben’s protective grasp. All of a sudden she didn’t care about the Australian media, or anything else for that matter.

  ‘Harrison.’

  He ducked under the barrier, ran the two paces towards her and scooped her into his arms, spinning her around before pulling her close and kissing her right on the lips. In the background, the crowd cheered.

  CHAPTER 24

  Samantha

  ‘Well, I’m just going to say it,’ Samantha murmured, watching from outside the terminal, ‘that was quick.’

  Jaddi nodded, her eyes fixed on Harrison and Lizzie wrapped in each other’s arms. ‘Just a bit.’

  Samantha waved Ben over.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Samantha asked as Ben dropped his backpack to the floor and repositioned his camera bag across one of his shoulders.

  ‘Yep.’ Ben pressed his index finger and thumb on his forehead as if he was trying to smooth away the furrows that had formed there since Samantha had seen him last.

  ‘Did Channel 6 arrange this?’ Samantha pointed at the media gaggle.

  Ben shrugged. ‘If they did, then they didn’t tell me.’

  ‘Would you expect them to?’

  ‘Caroline’s been emailing me details of our America leg already, so if she’d planned anything here, then, yes, I’m sure she would’ve told me.’

  Eventually the press gathered their belongings and left in a mass exodus.

  Even though Jaddi had mentioned the astronomical number of fans growing daily on their Facebook page and Twitter account, it still seemed unbelievable, disturbing even, to see their reach on the other side of the world.

  ‘Hey,’ Lizzie said, striding towards them. ‘Sorry about the delay. Are you guys OK?’

  Harrison lingered a few paces behind, his face bent forwards as his fingers danced across the keypad of his mobile. He looked up, catching Samantha’s eye and stepping forward.

  ‘Jaddi, Sally.’ He flashed a row of perfectly straight teeth. ‘Great to see you.’

  ‘It’s Samantha.’ She smiled.

  ‘Oops, sorry, Sammy,’ he said, in a stronger Australian accent than Samantha remembered from the few times she’d met him in London. She was sure he’d had an American edge to his voice when they’d met him last. Either way, he was still just as gorgeous.

  He was a poster boy for the young carefree-surfer look and seemed to know it. The subtle blond highlights from the sun or a bottle (the latter, Samantha
suspected, based on their too-perfect scattering) swept into a just-rolled-out-of-bed look, that probably took an hour to perfect based on the way his fringe sat just so on his forehead.

  He wasn’t particularly tall, under six foot, she guessed, but he was toned and athletic, and had a bounce to his gait which made him seem bigger.

  ‘Are you OK with all this?’ Samantha asked Lizzie as Ben repositioned his camera bag with a stern pull, reminding her they needed to get going.

  ‘You mean the media circus? Sure.’ She smiled as she spoke but Samantha thought she detected more than a hint of sarcasm in the way Lizzie clipped the final letter of each word. Harrison dropped an arm around Lizzie’s shoulder and kissed her cheek.

  Ben held out a hand to Harrison. ‘I’m Ben Holmes, the cameraman.’ He turned his gaze to Lizzie.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ Lizzie smiled. ‘Ben, this is Harrison, Harrison, this is Ben.’

  Harrison fell half a foot shorter than Ben, but if he felt uncomfortable by Ben’s height as he bounced forward then he didn’t show it. ‘G’day, mate. Welcome to Sydney.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Ben unzipped a pocket in his camera bag, riffled inside it for a moment before pulling out a sheet of paper. ‘I’m guessing that you’ll be joining us for some of the trip, in which case, you’re going to need to sign this waiver.’ He handed the document to Harrison. ‘It basically says that you’re fine for me to film you for the purposes of this documentary and that you won’t be receiving any payment for doing so.’

  Harrison grinned. ‘No worries. Gotta pen?’

  Samantha raised her eyebrows at Jaddi as Harrison signed the form, but Jaddi’s eyes were watching Lizzie. Jaddi’s forehead was creased, her mouth a thin, straight line as if she was trying to figure something out in her head.

  ‘I gotta shoot into work,’ Harrison said a moment later, handing back the sheet of paper to Ben and turning to face Lizzie. ‘The boss wants me to do a quick handover before my hols.’

  ‘Holiday?’ Lizzie said. ‘Are you going somewhere?’

  Harrison leant forward and kissed Lizzie on the lips. ‘I’m going wherever you’re going. I’ve got this whole week off to spend with you. I’ll be your very own tour guide. Starting with snags on the beach tonight in your honour.’ He turned and addressed them all. ‘We’ll give you a proper Aussie welcome.’

  Lizzie smiled. ‘Sounds good.’

  ‘Where ya staying?’ he asked, his eyes lingering on Jaddi.

  ‘A youth hostel just by the harbour,’ Jaddi replied.

  ‘Oh, yeah, I know it. The Rocks. Just hop onto one of the red and white Captain Cook ferries from Darling Harbour and head to Watsons Bay for around seven. You can get a bus but the ferry is way cooler. I’ll make sure there are enough spare seats in cars to get you back afterwards.’

  Harrison collected Lizzie in his arms and spun her around a final time before bouncing off towards the exit, leaving a silence that none of them seemed to know how to fill.

  Eventually Samantha spoke. ‘Shall we go find our hostel and dump our bags then?’

  Jaddi nodded, but Lizzie stared off into the distance wearing an amused expression.

  ‘Lizzie?’ Jaddi said.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Ready to go?’

  ‘Definitely. But can we make a detour before the hostel? I don’t know about you, but I’m in need of a fry-up.’

  ‘Actually, I was just thinking I could go for some noodles right about now,’ Ben said, making them all laugh and restoring the equilibrium to their foursome.

  ‘By the way,’ Jaddi said, ‘anyone know what a snag is?’

  Lizzie laughed. ‘Not a clue, Sam?’ She pushed Samantha’s arm. ‘You must know. Surely you’ve done your usual boffin research on culture and language?’

  ‘Sausages, I think,’ Samantha said as Ben unzipped his holdall and pulled out his camera.

  ‘Oh,’ Jaddi said, ‘that makes sense.’

  Ben strode three paces ahead of them and hoisted his camera onto his shoulder, and as they strolled out into the warm Australian sunshine, Samantha tried not to dwell on the potential trouble that the Australian media, and Harrison – with his all-too-perfect smile – might bring to the group, and especially to Lizzie.

  CHAPTER 25

  Lizzie

  Lizzie dropped into a black plastic seat on the top deck of the ferry and pulled her hands inside the sleeves of her hoody. Despite the heat of the day, the evening breeze had an English feel to it.

  A moment later, Jaddi and Samantha settled down beside her and the ferry engine roared into life.

  ‘So, I’m really pleased I bothered to blow-dry my hair.’ Samantha shook her head as a gust of wind lifted her hair and blew it into her face. She scooped it up and tied it into a high ponytail. ‘I thought escaping the humidity would mean at least one good-hair day.’

  ‘Who cares.’ Jaddi grinned. ‘Look at this view. What a place to see the sunset from, eh, Lizzie?’ Jaddi rifled in her satchel. ‘And look what I found in that supermarket,’ she said, holding up a miniature bottle of Prosecco and ripping off the foil wrapper.

  Lizzie smiled and nodded as the ferry dipped and rose, bouncing over the waves made by a large boat heading into the harbour, and rocking them in their seats.

  ‘I’d shoot the cork into the water,’ Jaddi said, twisting the bottle in her hands with a pop, ‘but the city is so clean I think I might get arrested, or something. I don’t think I’ve seen a single piece of litter today.’

  As the ferry turned out of the harbour, the vast black metal of Sydney Harbour Bridge came into view.

  ‘Hey, look up there,’ Samantha said, pointing towards the top of the bridge where people were walking up.

  ‘Wow,’ Jaddi said, offering the bottle to Samantha, ‘we have to do that.’

  ‘Definitely,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ll have cheeky swig,’ she added, plucking the bottle out of Samantha’s hands and filling her mouth with cold, fizzing bubbles.

  She passed the bottle to Jaddi and laughed at the expression darkening their faces. ‘It was one sip, guys. Relax. I’m sure it won’t kill me.’ The bubbles of alcohol danced alongside the excitement jumping in her stomach. She’d known for weeks that she’d be seeing Harrison again. And from the flirty tone of his messages she’d have to have been a complete idiot not to realise that things between them would be more than platonic, but it had always seemed distant, like a dream she could push to the back of her mind and forget. Harrison’s sudden appearance had literally and figuratively swept her off her feet.

  ‘There’s our hostel,’ Jaddi said, pointing at a four-storey building that stretched the length of the street. It was a dark-red modern structure with two thick strips of black bricks running through its centre.

  The hostel was, they’d discovered after wandering the clean streets of the city, eating a huge fry-up and drinking copious cups of coffee, well-equipped compared to the places they’d stayed in Southeast Asia. It had a cafe and a large rooftop area with tables and chairs overlooking Sydney’s two most iconic sights – the distinctive white peaks of the Opera House, which reminded Lizzie of a shiver of shark fins like they’d seen off the Thai islands, and the Harbour Bridge. Despite the spectacular view, it was the communal kitchen they’d spent the most time cooing over. Lizzie didn’t miss cooking dinners, and she suspected Samantha and Jaddi didn’t miss it either, considering the number of times she’d managed to serve undercooked chicken with overcooked vegetables. But Lizzie did miss breakfast. Being able to eat a bowl of cereal whenever it suited her was a strangely thrilling prospect.

  ‘Ah!’ Jaddi cried out as a gust of wind carried droplets of cold sea water, hitting their faces. ‘Maybe we should have got the bus after all. I’m getting soaked sitting here.’

  Lizzie turned her face to the sun, enjoying its last rays of warmth as it began to inch lower in the sky.

  ‘Are we in the right outfits?’ Samantha asked, touching her shorts. ‘I’m starting to think, maybe we should have
gone dressier?’

  ‘It’s a beach party, Sam,’ Jaddi said, ‘and it’s going to be dark. Don’t worry.’

  Jaddi was right. Samantha needn’t have worried. Harrison and his friends had also chosen similar outfits – baggy multi-coloured board shorts with oversized jumpers – with the exception of one waif-like girl in a floral ankle-length dress.

  As Harrison introduced them around his friends, Lizzie found her eyes drawing back to the girl. Every one of her features appeared angular, from her jutting elbow bones, to the pointed tip of her nose and deadly straight blonde hair. She seemed to know Harrison and his friends, but, at the same time, stood on the outskirts like an observer.

  There was something intriguing about her, and alluring, Lizzie assumed, based on the way Harrison’s male friends would periodically drift over to her. She chatted amicably for a time, but her face remained impassive. Lizzie envisaged a gust of coastal wind blowing through the bay, catching the billows of the dress and carrying the girl up into the air and out to sea.

  ‘Who’s the blonde?’ Lizzie asked Harrison after the introductions to Teddy, Jimbo, Lance, Tessie, Gill, Sally, and two couples whose names Lizzie had already forgotten, had been made and the angular girl missed out.

  Harrison’s eyes moved across the group until they settled on the waif, who glanced back before finding a spot in the distance to focus on. ‘Oh, her. That’s Cress.’

  ‘Why didn’t you introduce us?’

  He shrugged. ‘Dunno. I don’t know her that well, I guess. And she’s pretty moody most of the time.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Although she didn’t. Why would they be friends with her if she was such a grump?

  Without warning, Harrison pulled Lizzie towards him, scooping her into his arms and charging towards the crashing waves of the black ocean, sparkling with flecks of orange from the reflection of the bonfire.