Surf School (10 page)

Tilly pushed their front door open and it scraped aside
a mounting pile of debris. The lounge room was scattered with clothes, papers, bags and shoes, as though it had been ransacked. She clicked her tongue, irritated by the chaos, and stepped over the mess.

Her toe clipped something solid under a towel and she fell headlong onto the couch, clutching her foot then rolling onto the floor. The Blood Book was under the couch where she'd kicked it. As she reached for its dull red cover, a surge of anger rushed through her. Not only had Marlee wrecked her day, she was sabotaging her night as well. Tilly glared at the book, swiping at a pen like it was a weapon, and began to pour her anger and frustration into the Book, pressing down so heavily that the pen scored the pages underneath.

Dear Marlee

You know what? Sometimes life sucks and you have to push hard to get through it. You know all about that cause you've been there and as a friend, I've been there with you. Remember all those nights your Dad came home drunk? Or his mean nights when you got in the way and you came to my place and I hugged you while you cried? Listened for hours while you talked? And after he left, we spent ages cleaning and painting the garage so you had your own space?

I know you've never forgotten even though we never talk about it, but sometimes it has to be mentioned because those are moments that cement a friendship. Not just a ‘hey, how are you?' friendship at the beach or even a Fran and Pink friendship where we hang out, but a deep connection that should never be broken.

Yet at this very moment I feel like you've got the saw out and you're slowly but surely cutting us in two.

First of all, where were you today? I needed you. I needed your support. I needed an explanation about what happened because I was getting yelled at by everyone. And why am I getting yelled at for something you did? I really needed you and YOU DUMPED ME TO GO OFF WITH KYLE. (I'm writing in capitals because I am shouting)

Shane turned up like a wasp had stung his bum and started throwing things around. He told me that you and Kyle were playing in the surf and two boys nearly drowned. I can't believe that you could be so irresponsible.

And what's the deal with Kyle? I thought you didn't even LIKE him? Huh. It didn't look like that to me.

And secondly, don't judge me. I can't help what is happening to me. I'd like to be paddling out but I can't and even though you never say anything I see it in your eyes every time I tell you I can't surf or train.

Thirdly … well, there was a thirdly but I can't remember it right now so it will have to follow but there is a thirdly and you'd better be listening because I'm sick and tired of you making me feel like I don't count anymore or not giving me any explanations or not bothering to spend time with me because you want to be with Kyle. I can't believe I didn't see that coming.

Tilly

Tilly wrapped the book in a towel and left it at Marlee's door without bothering to knock.

T
illy forced herself out of bed early. Without stopping for breakfast, she marched over to the School, keys jangling in her hand. She'd left it in a mess last night with money still in the till, and the thought of cleaning up only heightened her bad mood.

Sam'd been right about the weather. There wasn't enough wind to blow a cloud across the sky and an unusual quiet had settled along the beach, broken only by the soft crush of ripples washing up the sand. People bobbed up and down in the ocean like sea horses, too lethargic to break into a swim. The stinging sun warned it would be a day to stay undercover. Tilly wanted to throw herself into the water, spend the day lolling on her surf mat, but she turned her back and yanked up the roller door, its screech adding to her anger.

The message bank was full of cancellations, with more phoning in. Tilly took the calls automatically, not bothering to suggest rebooking, just glad they weren't coming. She sent Shane a text suggesting he play golf today, even though meaner suggestions came to mind. After last night she didn't want to see or speak to him.

She put the money into her bag to sort out later, gathered up the damp rashies and placed them in the sun to dry and put the reservations book into a cardboard box. In one impulsive sweep of her arm, she scraped the entire contents of the desk top into the container. She picked out Kyle's sunnies and tossed them into the Lost Property box, even though she really felt like jumping on them.

Fanned by anger, Tilly worked at a demonic pace. She shoved photos into boxes, and hauled equipment out onto the sand. She checked her watch, sending Sam another text to get him out of bed, and had just finished sweeping when Jamie arrived with paintbrushes and a step ladder. She smiled cheerily, pleased he'd shown up. She hadn't even thought about ladders. His Island Breeze T-shirt barely stretched across his shoulders and stopped above his navel.

‘What is
that
?' Tilly asked, laughing unkindly.

‘Pink told me I had to wear it to the conference dinner,' he said and yanked it down roughly at the sides. ‘So I'm wearing it in a bit.'

Tilly huffed. ‘Do you have to do everything Pink tells you?' she said. ‘Why do you let her push you around all the time?'

Jamie shrugged. ‘I don't mind.'

‘Oooooohhhhh!' Tilly screamed, frustrated. ‘You are so … annoying.'

‘Why do you care?' Jamie looked at her, curious.

Tilly stopped short. Why did she care? She laughed, a little thrown. ‘Because you're too nice,' she said and even though it sounded lame, Tilly realised it was true. ‘She takes advantage of that.' Tilly nodded at Jamie's T-shirt, trying to lighten up a bit. ‘Although that colour does look great on you.'

The number five kept turning up everywhere, or so it seemed to Pink. There were five tiny pots of coloured paint in her bag, five letters to her parents about being absent from school hidden in her room, five days until the conference and five reasons she could think of immediately as to why she didn't want to go.

The letters she'd sort out closer to the start of the school year. What was really puzzling her now was 5 December, the day she and Kim were entwined in history, scripted up in police records and forever connected. Even if they weren't really together, she liked to pretend they were and – her heart gave a thump – Kim obviously did too. As she passed through the shops and down the path alongside the beach she tried to remember what she had really done that day. A day of such importance couldn't have just slipped away like that. Something had to have happened so she could place it in her head. She wrote it on the corner of her
Elle
magazine so she'd remember to ask the others.

By the time Pink arrived at the School, Fran, Sam and two
of his friends had helped Tilly move all the boards into a spare room at the Club House. Pink put her hands together and bowed a greeting.

‘
Namaste
.'

There was a pause and a few mumbled hellos.

‘
Namaste
,' Jamie called in a clear voice, bowing his head slightly towards Pink, ignoring a grunt from Tilly.

They cleaned the walls quickly, but filling in the cracks and getting the sand out was a slow, hot process.

‘Can't we just throw the paint on?' Tilly said grumpily. ‘It's not the Sistine Chapel. It's just a SHED.' She raised her voice, frustrated at the slowness of it all.

‘No. You have to do the prep,' Sam said firmly. ‘Otherwise it's a complete waste of time.'

Tilly drummed her fingers on the door and kicked her shoes against the wall until finally Sam told her to get some pizza for lunch.

‘You're trying to get rid of me,' she said accusingly.

‘Yes.' Sam said. ‘We're nearly done. Get the pizza and then we can paint.'

When she returned, Tilly sat away from the others, chewing her pizza with no enthusiasm. After endless nights of it her favourite food had turned to cardboard and she decided she'd never complain about Phil's salads and pasta sauces again. Her love handles had begun to sprout and she looked at the water longingly, not daring to mention a swim because everyone would stop work. She checked her phone again for a message from Marlee. Nothing. She couldn't believe Marlee
hadn't called to apologise about yesterday. Tilly impatiently twisted her hair into a knot to get some relief from the heat. If she'd had scissors handy, she'd have chopped it off on the spot.

‘Okay,' Sam smacked his hands together, then folded the pizza trays into the bin. ‘Let's paint. It'll dry in no time in this heat and then we can put the second coat on.'

‘You sure? We could do it tomorrow,' Tilly suggested.

‘I'm with Sam,' Fran agreed. ‘The surf 'll be up again tomorrow. Let's do it all now.'

‘Okay, okay,' Tilly held her arms up in surrender. ‘Bad idea. Let's do it.'

They ripped off the lids, stirring the rich yellow for the walls and a light blue for the roller door. The boys took a wall and roller each, while Tilly and Fran cut in the edges around the door.

Pink climbed the ladder with yet another small pot of paint.

‘What are you doing, Pink?' said Tilly. ‘Can't you give us a hand here?' Tilly could hear the snippy tone in her voice but as much as she tried to hide it, it kept pushing through.

‘I won't be long,' Pink replied. She painted a small rainbow across the inside wall facing the beach, with several tiny stars around each side, just like the ones on Kim's kombi.

‘Ta da!' Pink moved the ladder and climbed it again to pin a large crystal in the centre of the doorway.

‘What's with the hippy stuff, Pink?' Tilly said, fed up.

‘Yeah, thought you hated all that New Age stuff?' Jamie smiled at her, flicking the crystal so small rainbow-coloured dots flashed around the room.

‘No, I heard it's that dropkick …' The scowl on Pink's face stopped Tilly and she bumbled on, ‘that dropkick new teacher at her school,' she finished. ‘Total hippy craze happening there.'

‘It looks good, Pink,' Fran said kindly. ‘I bet Phil'll love it.' The warmth in Fran's voice, and Pink's grateful smile ate away at Tilly as she poked her paintbrush angrily into all the gaps.

Empty and painted, the room looked bigger and smelled clean. When the paint had dried, they brought the new boards across, ripping off the plastic and laying them carefully in the racks. Tilly stacked the boxes alongside the desk, now painted a soft blue.

‘Hey, Tilly,' said Fran. ‘Can I use one of the old boards? If it's okay with you, I'd like to put my jewellery on it and try to sell some.'

Tilly smiled for the first time that day. ‘Cool idea,' she said enthusiastically. ‘Take one with you now if you like. I might do the same for my photos.'

‘Okay, that's it.' Sam grabbed his towel. ‘I can't stand looking at the water any longer. Let's go for a swim.' He raced down the sand followed by his mates.

Fran and Pink hung back.

‘C'mon, Tilly,' Fran coaxed.

‘No you go.' Tilly waved them away, eager to be by herself. ‘I have to write out a new list.'

‘Oh, of course you do! That's all you do these days – write out lists and boss us around. It wouldn't be so bad if you weren't so mean,' Pink complained. She threw down her dress and ran to the water without looking back.

Tilly bit her lip and checked her messages, wondering for the millionth time where Marlee was. She watched the others diving into the water, Pink throwing herself at Jamie with a loud scream. She collected her gear and headed across the road to catch the hospital bus.

A
strong smell of fresh paint rushed over Tilly as she pulled wearily at the roller door early the next morning. It slid back easily, the screech oiled into oblivion and she felt a small glow of satisfaction. When she flicked on the light the space now felt fresh and welcoming.

The jug was boiling, the trough filled with water, the sign was on the pavement and new boards gleamed on the sand when Shane stuck his head inside. He pulled his sunnies back on.

‘Must be at the wrong school. The one I left two days ago was grey and everything looked old.' He disappeared, then reappeared as if another angle would change it back to the School he knew. ‘Well, it did need a tidy up. Do I have to turn up in a suit and tie now, boss?' he teased Tilly.

Tilly smiled uneasily. Her last conversation with Shane still burned and if she wasn't feeling so exhausted, she'd try to sort things out. Maybe later. Maybe after some more sleep.

The early morning class arrived in dribs and drabs while Shane inspected the new boards.

‘Okay, let's get to work,' he said enthusiastically to Fran and Tilly, who were busy helping the students. Shane looked up the beach to see if anyone else was coming to work.

Finally he added, ‘Looks like it's just the three of us today. Can one of you give me a hand in the water?' He set off along the beach with the group, pointing to a neat left-hander just past the sandbar.

When it had quietened down Fran showed Tilly the board she'd taken home last night.

‘Ta da!' she laughed. A chain of frangipanis in varying shades of pink and yellow curled around the edges. They laced together at the top, circling a banner that said, B
EACH
B
LING BY
F
RANIPANI
. Fran propped it against the wall then carefully arranged her bracelets, necklaces and earrings, pinning them onto the soft curved surface and placing small price stickers underneath. ‘What do you think?'

‘Fran, that's fantastic and it looks great here,' said Tilly moving the board into a more prominent position by the door. ‘I didn't realise you'd made so much stuff.' She lifted a bracelet and let the beads run through her fingers. Tilly put her board next to Fran's. ‘Mine's not quite as well presented as yours!' She smiled but Fran only noticed the deep circles under Tilly's eyes, the limp hair stashed under her hat.

Fran hugged Tilly. ‘You look worn out. Why don't I paint it up for you tonight? How's Phil?'

Tilly sighed, rubbed her eyes. ‘He's straightened out again. He's better when he's out of bed but he's disappointed that they won't release him yet.' She smiled at Fran as she pulled some pins out of her bag, ‘I hope it's soon. Having him home will be so good.'

Fran handed pins to Tilly and they arranged the class photos across the deck of Tilly's board, standing back to see the finished product. ‘I've put them online as well,' said Tilly. You should see the page. Sam's just finishing the design now.'

‘Hey! I thought someone was going to give me a hand?' Shane yelled, running towards them. He pointed at the two boards and scowled. ‘What are those?' He ducked through the doorway, his head hitting the crystal and setting off a flurry of coloured dots.

‘We're trying to improve the School. Bring it out of the 60s,' snapped Tilly.

‘This is a Surf School, not a bazaar.' Shane slapped sunscreen across his face and neck. ‘I hate gimmicks. We don't need them.' He spat the words out in disgust, rubbing cream along his arms, then emptied his water bottle in one swallow before noticing a student standing timidly outside. ‘Coming in today, Sue?' he said, sounding awkward.

Sue nodded. ‘For sure.' She held up one of Fran's bracelets. ‘I just want to pay for this.'

Shane narrowed his eyes at Fran. ‘Pay her. I'm just the hired help.' He pointed his finger at Tilly. ‘You and I need to talk. Today. After class.'

Fran put the money into her pocket, waiting until Sue and Shane had gone. ‘He's not happy, Til. Let's just pack it all up. It's not worth upsetting him. He's under pressure too.'

‘No. Shane might've taught Jesus to surf but it's Dad's school and I think he'd like what we're doing. Besides, Shane asked me to help and I am. If he doesn't like it, too bad,' she said stubbornly. Fran looked unconvinced. ‘We'll sort it out later, don't worry.'

‘While you're sorting things out, Tilly, you should go and talk to Marlee.'

Tilly bristled. She busied herself getting ready for the surf. ‘Why should I? She nearly let two boys drown and then ditched me, to go off with Kyle. I was stuck here alone all afternoon with students to look after, a monumental mess and Shane in one of his tempers. If anyone is owed an apology it's me,' she said, her voice rising.

‘You weren't alone all afternoon,' said Fran, a little fed up. ‘I was here nearly all day. You were only alone for an hour.'

‘You know what I mean,' Tilly sulked.

‘Not really. I gave up my day to help, that means I was here just like you.'

Tilly turned away from Fran and pulled on her rashie.

‘I know you're stressed,' Fran went on, more gently, ‘but I don't think you've heard the full story about yesterday.'

Tilly cut her off impatiently. ‘I heard enough. Shane said Marlee was showing off to Kyle. Plain and simple. She never thinks about how her actions affect everyone else. No, Marlee
screwed up. And not just in the surf, but with the School. And with me.'

Fran grunted in frustration. ‘You're not listening! Marlee nearly drowned trying to
help
those two boys in the surf. They got caught in a rip because of their own stupidity. And if you think you're alone when I'm here with you, and everyone else is helping you, even though you never seem to notice or appreciate it, then play the martyr by yourself.' Fran hooked her bag over her arm. ‘I've got other stuff to do.'

She paused at the door. ‘Did you know that Marlee's been doing her pamphlet run at 11 pm so she can spend the day helping you as well as go to the hospital?'

Tilly swallowed. Silent.

‘No. I didn't think so. She's tried her best to help you. We all have.' Fran flung her towel over her shoulder. ‘See you.'

Tilly put her head near the window to catch the breeze. Without Marlee, the bus trip home from the hospital was both long and quiet. The humidity had kicked in big time, frizzing her hair until she'd tied it in a knot, and secured it with her pen. But her hair wasn't the only thing the heat had curled.

As the bus chugged to stop after stop, Tilly unravelled recent events like a long piece of knotted string. The School had swallowed her life. And she'd let it. Shane could have organised things but she had taken over, trying to control it all. And not only that, Shane had practically told her to stay away and now she'd managed to annoy all her friends.

By the time the bus pulled up near her house, her body was limp with hunger, aching from sitting in a hospital chair. Her head jangled with images of blinking machines, squeaking trolleys, drip stands, her Dad's slow movements, his tired, beaten face.

She stepped into the heavy darkness of the house, grateful that the blinds were down. The fan barely shifted the air. The flicker of the TV screen dappled colours across the floor, and Tilly noticed a line of boys sitting along the couch.

Sam pressed pause on the Xbox control. ‘Is he all right?' Tilly's face was pale, her eyes red.

‘Not really. He's worn out and his leg's agony.' Her stomach rumbled loudly and she kicked at a tangle of towels on the floor, the sand sticking to her feet. ‘I'm starving. Did you get my text about heating up the lasagne?'

Sam nodded vaguely, not moving. ‘I'll get something sorted in a sec.' He nudged Jamie and nodded towards the screen. ‘Your go, mate.'

Dirty dishes were stacked in leaning towers in the kitchen. Drink bottles lolled in cold washing-up water and the remains of an enormous lasagne sat drying on the table, coated with flies. Tilly stormed back into the lounge room and stood in front of the TV screen, hands on hips. ‘Samuel.'

‘Oooooh, it must be bad if it's Samuel,' Matt joked.

‘Samuel Leon Hoye.' Tilly heard her voice rise until it was shrill and she was shouting. ‘That lasagne in the kitchen. The lasagne Mrs Halgren kindly brought over for our dinner. Your dinner and my dinner.' She glared at the others. ‘
That
lasagne. That lasagne has been eaten.' Tears ran down her cheeks. ‘You didn't even save me a piece!'

‘Okay. Calm down.' Sam shifted uncomfortably. ‘I told you I'd get something organised, and I will,' he said defensively. ‘Now move.'

Tilly rubbed her stomach to ease the hollow ache and unclench the knot that had settled. ‘No, you won't. You've hardly done a thing at home while Dad's been in hospital. Look at this place. It's a pigsty. And you lot.' She eyeballed Matt, Jamie and Dan sitting alongside. ‘You come here every day, make a mess, eat our food and then disappear to your nice clean homes for dinner.'

Sam glanced at his friends, then at Tilly. ‘That's enough, Tilly. What's got into you?'

‘You practically live here and do any of you ever think to clean up or help out? No.' She switched off the TV. ‘Well, the ride's over. Go leech off someone else. We've got enough problems without carrying you lot as well.'

A long silence fell across the room.

Tilly stood stubbornly in front of the television.

Sam picked up his towel. ‘C'mon, let's get out of here.' He looked coldly at Tilly. ‘Let's go for a surf.'

‘But there isn't any,' Dan said.

‘We'll find some,' Sam pushed him towards the door. He turned to his sister. ‘Good one, Tilly.'

The house emptied, quickly, silently.

Tilly followed, and locked the door behind them. As she slowly gathered the wet towels into a pile, she noticed a dark
shape under the coffee table. Her heart beating fast enough to pull a bus, she picked up the Blood Book, its cover now a little faded and scratched. She remembered the furious letter she'd written and saw Marlee's new entry.

 

 

What a horrible letter. And so much of it is not true. I can't believe you'd think those things about me without at least hearing my side of the story.

I WAS fooling around in the surf with Kyle. But those boys were fine until they hit the rip and panicked. They weren't listening to Shane on the beach so when it happened they didn't have a clue what to do.

When I realised they were in trouble, I swam out and put them on a board and helped them to catch a wave in. Before I could swim I got a bad cramp and nearly drowned. And if Kyle hadn't been there, I would have.

After we got to the beach Shane was hopping mad. I felt really sick and tired so Kyle took me home. I was going to call you later but I fell asleep and didn't wake up until lunchtime the next day.

What hurts most is that you didn't stick up for me. I would have for you.

And thanks for bringing up the black spots in my family history. I remember them all quite clearly. If you're trying to hurt my feelings, it's worked. I remember some of yours, too, but what's the point of dragging all that up every time life isn't going so well?

And I'm not judging you for not training. We made a pact, that's all, and to me that really means something. I'll keep going, training, working, competing, whatever I need to do to get to the WCT with or without you, because I also made a pact with myself. So don't bellyache to me about it any more.

I realise that you're having a really hard time but I've been
trying to help you and I can't understand why you have turned against me. Maybe it's better if we don't hang out together for a while.

Marlee Finn

The Book slipped to the floor. Tilly stared blankly ahead, tears falling. She'd hurt one of the best people she'd ever met and even though Fran had tried to warn her, she hadn't listened. Marlee was right, she would've stuck up for Tilly. And she had been for weeks.