The Banksia Bay Beach Shack Page 17

  ‘I’ll be beside you the whole way.’ He squeezed her hand and they faced the ocean.

  On the board she kicked and dragged her arms through the water, like he’d taught her. She tried to push the board under the wave as it broke just in front of her, but she got dumped, tumbling inside the wave, not knowing which way was up or down. Fear raced through her. Panic.

  Heath pulled her to the surface. ‘That’s what we call a wipe-out. Congratulations, you’re now initiated.’

  Laura coughed and spluttered and looked at him with wide eyes.

  ‘Remember, push down with your arms, then one leg on the back of the board.’

  Eventually, with lots of help from Heath, Laura managed to duck and paddle through the breakers. And she was absolutely exhausted. How was she going to catch a wave when her whole body felt like it had been hit by a truck?

  She sat on her board, rising up and down with the swell. ‘That . . . was not fun.’

  Heath bobbed beside her. ‘Paddling is the hardest part.’

  ‘Which is why you use the rips.’ She threw her head back.

  ‘Next time.’ He smiled.

  Next time? It was going to take Laura a month to recover from this time.

  With their legs dangling in the water, they sat out behind the break. The motion of the sea was rhythmic; the only sound was the crashing waves on the distant shore. Beyond them was nothing but the ocean. It was as if this was the entire world, just the two of them, the sea and the silence.

  Laura raised her face to feel the warmth of the sun. She breathed deeply, the taste of salt on her lips. Exhaustion seeped out of her and energy filled her.

  ‘Is it like this every time?’ she whispered.

  Heath paddled his board closer to hers. ‘Yep. And there’s nothing else like it in the world.’

  As much as she could have stayed out there forever, she really wanted to catch a wave. With Heath’s encouragement she turned her board around.

  ‘This one,’ he shouted to her, as the water heaved behind them.

  But she froze, and the waved passed under her.

  ‘That’s okay.’ Heath reached out and patted her leg. ‘There’s more coming.’

  ‘I don’t think I can.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘I mean, on the sand and in the shallows is one thing. This is real surfing. Proper waves.’

  Heath’s eyes were full of warmth. ‘I know it’s scary. But sometimes doing what scares us is a good thing.’ He manoeuvred his board next to hers so he was facing her, his head just inches from hers. ‘Besides, it’s the only way back to civilisation.’

  ‘Civilisation is highly overrated. I could become a mermaid.’

  He laughed. ‘I promise you you’re ready for this and you won’t regret it.’

  She looked him in the eye.

  ‘Have I lied to you yet?’

  ‘Yes. You weren’t a Boy Scout.’

  ‘Technically I didn’t lie about that.’ Heath raised a hand to his chest. ‘You’ve got this. I know you can do it. Here comes a good one. Ready?’

  No. She wasn’t ready. She would never be ready. So . . . if she’d never be ready, now was as good a time as any, she supposed. God help her.

  She paddled hard. As she crested the wave she popped, putting out her arms to balance. She steadied herself, bent her knees. And she was surfing. For a few brief, terrifying, thrilling minutes she was actually surfing.

  Before wiping out halfway through the ride.

  She pushed herself to the surface and looked for Heath. He was coming in on the next wave.

  ‘Did you see me?’ she called out. ‘I was surfing.’

  As Heath’s wave died, he slipped off his board and steered towards her. She threw herself into his arms. ‘Did you see?’ She hugged him tightly.

  ‘You did great.’

  She pushed herself back. ‘Can we do it again?’

  ‘Of course.’ He looked rather proud.

  Laura caught three more waves before the sheer exhaustion of paddling so much overtook the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and they headed back to shore.

  ‘That was amazing. Thank you,’ she said, as Heath helped her out of her wetsuit. The words so inadequate for the emotions raging inside her.

  ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  In silence they walked to the shack at the end of the beach. Every now and then Laura looked up at Heath. Each time she did, he met her gaze, his pale blue eyes shining back at her. Every time her stomach tightened. Their pace was slow, their feet trailing through the water where the waves left the sand, their hands nearly touching.

  ‘Here we are.’ Heath’s voice was low, rasping.

  ‘Here we are.’ Laura’s voice was barely a whisper as she stared into his eyes.

  ‘Successful morning?’ Virginia shattered the moment.

  Laura turned towards her and couldn’t help but grin. ‘I actually surfed.’

  ‘She did well.’ Heath said.

  A scowl crossed Virginia’s face momentarily, before she resumed her neutral expression. ‘That’s lovely. Can I get you something?’

  They ordered a sandwich and a milkshake each and took their lunch down to the jetty to sit on the end with their legs dangling over the edge.

  ‘So, do you think you’ll get a piece out of your stay here?’ Heath handed her a paper serviette.

  ‘I think so.’ She really hated lying. It was often part of her job – stretching the truth, obscuring vital information in order to coax a story out of someone – and she’d accepted that years ago. But she never lied in her personal life. Ever. And despite what she told herself, that this was just another story, it wasn’t. This was as personal as it got. And it was getting more personal.

  Poor Heath was an innocent bystander. He didn’t deserve it. And Charlotte’s visit last night didn’t help allay any of Laura’s guilt, either.

  ‘How long did it take you to learn to surf?’ She had to change the subject.

  ‘Hmm, well, you’d have to ask Ian that. The way I remember it, he put me on a board before I could walk and I stood up first go. But I reckon he’d tell it differently.’

  Laura could imagine.

  ‘We’re having a little party at the shack this afternoon, for Aiden’s birthday. He told me this morning he hoped you’d come. Apparently your reading skills are second to none.’

  Laura raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, I did receive a sticker in kindergarten for exceptional reading out loud.’

  ‘Impressive. Will you come? It’s just family, a few friends. Very casual.’

  Charlotte’s words played in Laura’s mind. You promised me you wouldn’t hurt my family. Her guilt at lying to these people was heavy around her heart. But she didn’t want today’s feeling of joy and freedom to end. Since Lillian’s passing, this was the lightest she’d felt. It was like a drug. She wanted more and she didn’t care how she was going to get it.

  ‘I’d love to come.’

  Laura didn’t know what to bring to the birthday of a seven-year-old boy, whose party you had been invited to at the last minute. The only shop in town other than the shack that was open on a Sunday, was the general store, so she had to improvise. She bought a block of chocolate, because who doesn’t like chocolate, and a blue note pad.

  Using the pages from the notepad, she designed an IOU for reading any book, any time. She hoped he’d appreciate it. She put on her blue A-line skirt and a loose white shirt, pulled her long brown hair back into a loose ponytail and set off along the beach to the shack, hoping Charlotte wouldn’t be too upset that she’d come. She wrapped her teal cardigan more tightly around herself.

  There would be other people there, so she probably didn’t even have to talk to Heath, which would hopefully appease his sister. And help Laura keep a firm hold on her untrustworthy feelings.

  As she neared the shack she could see everyone on the deck. Charlotte and Aiden, of course, Virginia handing out drinks, Yvonne following behind with a platter of nibb
les, Ian at the barbecue with Heath standing beside him in a white linen shirt and dark denim jeans. He looked good. Really good.

  Well, it wouldn’t please Charlotte if Laura started to drool now, would it? She would have to situate herself anywhere but near him.

  There were also two other people there who Laura hadn’t met yet; both of them seemed to be around her age.

  Aiden ran towards her when he saw her coming.

  ‘Did you bring me a present?’ he asked, looking at the gift Laura had wrapped in blue notepaper in her hand.

  ‘Aiden. That’s not polite.’ Charlotte joined her son. ‘Thank you. You didn’t have to.’

  ‘It’s nothing. Just a token really.’

  Aiden ripped open the present, his eyes lighting up when he saw the chocolate. Then he opened the IOU.

  ‘Now?’ He looked up at her.

  ‘I don’t have a book on me.’

  He ran into the shack and grabbed three books off Virginia’s shelves, handing all of them to her and sitting on the ground at her feet. She joined him down there and started reading.

  Virginia whispered in Charlotte’s ear, looking at Laura, a scowl on her face.

  ‘Food’s up!’ Ian shouted. Trish, who’d been inside the shack, came out with some paper plates, her blue kaftan flowing behind her.

  ‘Thank you, dear.’ She kissed Ian on the lips.

  ‘Anything for you, Trishy darling.’

  Laura stared. That day on the Bodhi Bus when Kaftan told Old Salty not to be late, Laura had assumed they were father and daughter. But daughters didn’t kiss their fathers like that. Ian and Trish were a couple? He had to be at least twenty years older than her. For someone who prided herself on being able to read people, she’d sure got some things wrong since landing in Banksia Bay. Could she still blame this on grief?

  Everyone sat around the tiny mismatched tables and dug in to the sausages, steak and salad on offer.

  ‘Oh, these steaks are the best I’ve ever had,’ Laura declared as she finished off her serve. ‘You have to tell me the secret.’ She turned to Ian.

  ‘Ask Heath. It’s his secret. He won’t even tell me.’

  Heath put a finger to his lips and everyone laughed. Except Virginia.

  After they’d all finished eating, Aiden asked Laura to read to him again.

  ‘You know what time it is?’ Yvonne said to the group, holding up two cricket bats and a tennis ball. Aiden dropped his book.

  Everyone cheered. Except Laura. Cricket had never really appealed to her.

  She stayed where she was as everybody took their places down on the sand, two bins in place to mark the wickets.

  Heath ran back to her side. ‘This is one of those not-optional kind of things.’ He reached out his hand and pulled Laura up to standing. ‘You eat at our table, you play beach cricket with us. No exceptions.’

  She held her breath as he stood there, right in front of her, looking into her eyes.

  ‘Uncle Heath,’ Aiden called. ‘We’re ready.’ He waved his bat in the air.

  ‘We always open the batting together.’ He turned and ran towards the wicket. ‘Ready, buddy. Let’s knock them for six.’

  And Laura breathed out.

  The next hour was more intense than Laura could ever have imagined. These people took their beach cricket very seriously. There were records that needed beating or defending, there were partnerships that needed to be destroyed, there were appeals to the umpire – Virginia – who sent Ian from the ‘field’ at one point for his refusal to accept he’d been run out. Laura was impressed that a man of his age still had it in him to run between the wickets at all, let alone with such determination. There was even a trophy – a big plastic model of Merv Hughes’s head, which sat on one of the shelves in the shack – that was given to the MVP of the match. Yvonne had won it last year, apparently, for bowling out Heath and Ian in two balls, and she was determined to get back-to-back victories.

  Trish had hiked her kaftan up into her knickers and took the bat from Kim, Charlotte’s work colleague, who’d just got out. Trish stared Heath down as he prepared to bowl. She raised two fingers to her eyes and then pointed them at Heath.

  Instinctively, Laura took a step back. She’d spent the match in the dunes, also known as the outfield, except for the brief few minutes when she’d batted, Yvonne sending down a few light balls that Laura actually hit. The only problem was, the third ball she’d hit sailed so high into the sky that she stood there admiring her own skill and forgot to run. Which was apparently against the rules of ‘hit and run’ cricket, and Aiden threw the ball at the wicket and ran her out.

  Heath rearranged the field, moving Laura to the ‘on side’, which was just a fancy way of saying right on the shoreline. She stood where she was told, the waves lapping her ankles.

  Heath’s first ball was a wide, according to Virginia, who smiled sweetly at her grandson when he appealed the call. His second went straight through to the keeper, Charlotte’s friend from school, Rod or Ron or Ryan.

  Trish repeated her stare-down of Heath. He held her gaze as he ran up, bowled and grunted as he sent the tennis ball down the sandy pitch.

  Trish swung the bat, connecting with a solid whack, and the ball rose high into the air.

  Right in Laura’s direction.

  ‘Catch it,’ Aiden called, and Laura realised he was yelling at her.

  Oh, shit. She looked up, stepped back. The ball kept coming. She ran, deeper into the water, keeping her eyes on the ball.

  Here it came.

  She put her hands up, the ball fell into her grasp, she fumbled, someone gasped. She recovered, wrapping her fingers around the ball.

  And she fell backwards into the ocean, her arm held aloft.

  A cheer went up and everyone ran towards the sea.

  Aiden threw himself into the water next to Laura. ‘That was awesome.’ He hugged her and together they stood back up to the applause of the group. They were soaked through, but Laura didn’t mind.

  ‘That was pretty awesome.’ Heath winked at her, standing just a few centimetres away.

  Aiden pushed between them and grabbed each by the hand and the three of them walked through a sea of pats on the back.

  Back at the shack, Virginia brought out the Merv trophy.

  ‘Ian, as the stalwart of the group, you get to choose the winner.’

  He took the trophy with a reverent gesture. ‘There is only one choice. Sorry, Yvonne.’ She faked a look of disappointment, then smiled as he handed Merv over to Laura.

  ‘You get to keep it for a week and then it comes back to the shack,’ Virginia said.

  As the sun began to set, Heath, Ian, Kim, Yvonne, Trish and Ryan – he was definitely Ryan – disappeared for a moment and then returned, each with their surfboard.

  ‘Do you want to join us?’ Heath asked Laura, his expression hopeful.

  ‘I think I’ll leave this one to the professionals.’ She wasn’t sure she had the strength to paddle any more today.

  ‘Then take this.’ He wrapped his large beach towel around her wet shoulders and a shiver ran down her spine. She pulled the towel tight and watched as he entered the water. In sync with the others, he paddled out the back and waited for the right set of waves. In pairs they’d catch one in, cutting through the water with ease, weaving out of each other’s way. It was almost like a dance.

  ‘They’ve been surfing together for years.’ Charlotte stood beside her. ‘Ian taught every one of them. Even Yvonne. She always says it saved her life. I have no idea what she means. Surfers can be a funny lot when it comes to their connection with the ocean. It’s all very spiritual, I’m told. I’m just glad Gran doesn’t surf. Otherwise I’d be the only one.’

  ‘They’re really tight, aren’t they? Your gran and Yvonne?’

  ‘I’ve never seen a bond like it.’ She shrugged. ‘They don’t say much about growing up here. Not about themselves, anyway. The only thing she and Gran ever really talk about when it comes to
the past is what Ian was like back then. They paint an interesting picture.’

  ‘Did I hear my name mentioned?’

  Laura turned around to see Virginia looking at her with raised eyebrows.

  ‘Just . . .’ she scrambled to cover her tracks, ‘commenting on what a lovely group of friends this is.’ Well, that was weak.

  ‘The best.’ Virginia looked out to the group surfing. ‘We’d do anything for each other.’ She looked back at Laura. ‘Anything to protect each other.’

  Aiden came up to his mum, bleary-eyed and yawning.

  ‘Why don’t you lot head off?’ Virginia suggested. ‘They’ll be out there a while. No point standing around.’

  Laura had been hoping to talk to Ian about his photography, but it was obvious she’d have to wait. She said goodbye to Charlotte and Aiden and walked up the beach. Halfway to the holiday house she stopped and sat on the sand watching Heath and his friends in the waves, her chin nestled in Heath’s soft towel gathered in folds around her.

  Virginia tidied up the remaining mess from the party, and then rearranged the books on the shelves inside. She paced back and forth, and eventually the surfers came in. She said goodbye to everyone and then grabbed Yvonne by the arm, dragging her to the side of the shack.

  ‘My God, could you have taken any longer? We’re heading back to your place. Now.’

  Yvonne nearly fell as Virginia grabbed her hand. ‘Why?’

  ‘I need to use your inter-spider-web. We have to gaggle something.’

  ‘You mean google?’

  Virginia flapped her hand. ‘I don’t care what it’s called. Let’s go.’

  When they got to Yvonne’s cottage, Virginia didn’t even let her get changed out of her surfing gear.

  ‘Well, show me how this works,’ she said, as she sat at the dining table, pulling Yvonne’s laptop off the kitchen bench.

  ‘Virginia, stop.’ Yvonne sat down next to her. ‘Don’t you think this has gone far enough? We nearly got caught snooping around her stuff.’

  Virginia rubbed her temples. ‘I know. But we need to find out more. She was looking in The Bugle. The Bugle!’

  ‘She won’t find those pages. We took care of that decades ago.’