Swell (12 page)

When Rory reached out to shake my hand his dark curls dripped salt water over his cheeks.

Jason introduced his protégé like a proud father.

‘Bailey this is Rory. He’s this year’s tour rookie and is the future and first British world surfing champion.’

Rory laughed and shrugged one shoulder.

‘Pleased to meet you future world champion,’ I said as I shook his hand. ‘Where are you from?’

‘I was born in Newcastle, why aye,’ he smirked.

‘But I detect a hint of Australian.’

‘We moved to Dunsborough, W.A. when I was fourteen to do the surfing thing, which did me a favour. I mean I am happy to be British. There are waves up in the North East of England that people wouldn’t believe. But I’ll admit it’s bloody cold and the water is often as brown as the beer.’

I grimaced. Rory smiled and ran a hand over his chest that glistened like a varnished table.

‘I wouldn’t be getting myself a tan like this in Newcastle that’s for sure and I definitely wouldn’t be surfing in shorts. The surfers there are made of tougher stuff than I am.’

‘Hey, darl’, how was the surf?’

A girl carrying a pink surfboard under one arm appeared behind Rory and lovingly wrapped a beach towel around his shoulders with her free hand.

‘Great, how was yours?’

‘Perfect three footers. I loved it.’

She placed the board on the sand and beamed up at Rory while running her hands through her boyish cropped hairstyle that reminded me of Mia Farrow in
Rosemary’s Baby
. The feathered blond cut flattered Ruby’s elfin features and enormous innocent eyes. If I had attempted the same style I would have looked like a cancer patient. In contrast to some of the other girls I had met on tour thus far, Ruby had neither fake boobs nor a fake smile. She turned to me and beamed.

‘Hey, you must be the famous Bailey Brown I have heard so much about. I am so excited to meet a real writer.’

I blushed and offered a handshake but Ruby pulled me into a tight hug.

‘I know we are going to have a blast together on tour, you and I. A definite year to remember.’

It was one of the fastest friendships I had ever made.

Rory and Ruby had met in a coffee shop queue in Margaret River one day when they had simultaneously ordered the last chocolate chip muffin.

‘We must be compatible,’ was the first thing Rory had said to her.

Ruby had then offered to share the muffin and the rest was history.

‘Have you got a boyfriend?’ Ruby asked me while Rory lovingly entwined his fingers with hers. ‘Are you and Jason you know…?’

I shook my head vigorously.

‘God no, you must be joking. Jason and I are just friends. I’m his biographer and we have a professional relationship. I am one hundred percent not looking for love. Besides, he is definitely not my type.’

‘Well glad we got that cleared up,’ Jason laughed from very close to the back of my neck.

He picked up his surfboard.

‘Bailey is off surfers for life, isn’t that right, Bailey?’

‘Absolutely.’

My eyes flickered over the pack of professional surfers on the beach in various states of undress. There were no ill-fitting elastic waist swimming trunks in this scene. The modesty of the glistening wet bodies of those who had surfed was protected either by a beach towel or by board shorts to the knee in light, quick-dry fabrics that caressed their
thighs and hung precariously low on their hips. I had never known hips could be muscular but surfing gave these men muscles in places I had previously thought impossible. This new world I had entered was a feast for the eyes but unfortunately for me, not for the tasting. So much almost hair-free, medium to well-done skin. So many athletic physiques. So much sporting prowess and masculinity. It was like finding oneself locked in the world’s most sumptuous chocolate shop for a year and being told not to touch or sample any of the treats on display.

‘Absolutely,’ I said again, pushing my sunglasses up my nose, ‘I am not interested in the slightest.’

I was thankful nobody could see my eyes.

‘Shame,’ said Ruby, ‘we could have had some fun finding you Mr Right.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The morning of the competition, the island was buzzing with nervous anticipation. G-Land was considered to be one of the most idyllic and perfectly formed barrelling waves in the world. The contest had been held at the break in the past until political instability in Indonesia had made attendance at the event by foreign surfers unadvisable. However, with the threat of terrorism now existing almost worldwide, the sponsors had decided to return the contest to the left-hand reef break that made every surfer on tour dizzy with delight. The prize money for the winner had been elevated from the seventy thousand dollars it originally was, to one hundred thousand to encourage the surfers to participate but, judging by the monkey-like chattering emanating from the competitors’ area, the surfers needed little encouragement to surf a wave they dreamed of.

The first round consisted of twelve half-hour heats with three surfers in each. Being the number-one seed as the reigning world champion, Cain surfed against the unfortunate lowest seed. Reluctantly ranked number two, Jason surfed in the other half of the draw. In the interests of pleasing the audience watching online around the globe, it was considered beneficial to have a system in place whereby the top two surfers in the world could only meet in the final.

As was the case in most of the contests, the winner of each heat in round one progressed directly to round three while the losers met again in round two. The loser in round two was then eliminated from the competition. It was a gruelling trip (less so for them than for me perhaps) to the Javanese jungle at great expense just to surf two half-
hour heats and leave defeated. Do not pass Go; do not collect one hundred thousand dollars or valuable points.

At the end of the year the Tour waved goodbye to the bottom surfers in the table of the top thirty-two and welcomed into its ranks the top ten surfers from the lower league tour, the WQS. Any surfers who did not re-qualify saw their earnings plummet. It was an idyllic life in many respects but, as with every job, it had its own level of stress. The pressure to perform in death-defying waves every month of the year and not lose a heat to be able to pay the mortgage and feed one’s family was stressful no matter how glamorous one’s office.

As the contest progressed over the week, Cain and Jason defeated their adversaries with military precision. There was a nervous moment when, with five minutes to go in the semi-final, the surfer competing against Jason scored a nine out of a possible ten to scrape into the lead. Jason was left searching for an almost flawless nine-point-five to win.

‘Damn,’ I seethed, finding myself more and more engrossed in the action, ‘a nine-point-five is almost impossible at this stage.’

‘For any normal human, it sure is,’ Chuck nodded calmly beneath his fluorescent orange trucker cap, ‘but our guy is no normal human.’

Sure enough, as if by magic and with just thirty seconds remaining on the clock, the ocean rose up and morphed into a perfect wall of smooth water that barrelled along the reef. Jason’s fellow competitors, Cain being the exception, whistled and cheered. Jason took off and rode the wave with a breathtaking display of brilliance. When the
chips were down, Jason often seemed to perform even better. His calmness under pressure while surfing was the sign of a true champion.

Cain was rattled by Jason’s last-minute victory. His jet black eyes burned into Jason while they waited to paddle out for the final but Jason simply nodded a good luck, making Cain even more disgruntled. Cain was trailing Jason at the start of his year as reigning world champion, which was a severe knock to his defence of the title, not to mention his pride. He wanted the number one slot so desperately it had knocked him off balance. The more effort Cain made, the more Jason surfed as if his feet were glued to the deck of the board. There was no danger of him falling or making a mistake. For those thirty-five minutes Jason reigned supreme.

‘You won!’ I applauded enthusiastically when he returned victorious to the beach.

‘You bet,’ he smiled. ‘Did you ever doubt me?’

‘I love you man,’ said Chuck, embracing Jason with a manly hug while his eyes flickered with dollar signs.

‘Three out of three,’ said Rory.

He pulled Jason into a hug and then handed him a frosty bottle of beer.

‘Best start to the year you could have hoped for, mate, let’s celebrate.’

It was not a glamorous party, being as we were in the Javanese jungle miles from civilisation but I dressed up as seemed appropriate. Ruby advised the natural look but that was all very well when she had been blessed with perfect bone structure, a flawless tan and a body that displayed clothes better than a mannequin. However, life in the jungle was a lesson in embracing the natural. There were no hot showers and no electricity in
the ‘luxury’ (to use the term lightly) bungalow after eight p.m. Even before eight, there was not enough power to heat my hair straighteners above tepid so I wore my hair loose in relaxed waves. I applied two layers of Mac mascara in extreme black, brushed my cheekbones with bronzer and finished with a natural lip colour.

Ruby rummaged happily through my clothes and selected for me a black and deep blue Marc Jacobs top with long chiffon sleeves to protect me from mosquitoes. I teamed the top with wide leg trousers and a pair of Ruby’s black sandals. They were adorned with oversized gems that could well have been precious stones had I not known Ruby was a girl with unpretentious tastes. Ruby radiated the joy of a young woman who was happy with her lot as long as she had the man she loved and she was able to dip her feet in the ocean every day.

‘You look beautiful, darl’,’ said Ruby when we made our entrance together to the contest party.

‘You too,’ I said, accepting the compliment with a squeeze of her hand.

A monkey gazed at us admiringly from a nearby tree.

‘Whoa, chicks, you look awesome,’ Chuck hooted, which attracted the attention of every surfer, surfer’s wife and girlfriend (or SWAG as I had christened them), judge, official, sponsor and photographer in the vicinity.

Rory’s eyes lit up when he saw Ruby. She gathered up the full skirt of her purple polka dot dress and perched on his knee. I turned away when they kissed and caught Jason’s eye. He was looking up at me with his lips parted.

‘B, you look hot, girlfriend,’ Chuck whistled. ‘For real, Jason, doesn’t your biographer look hot?’

There was a pause during which I glanced across the room and saw Cain eyeing me with an expression of approval and something else I could not quite put my finger on.

‘Yeah she looks good,’ said Jason, bringing my attention back to our table, ‘really good.’

‘Thank you,’ I said with a wink, ‘now did anybody think to import champagne?’

We ate the same meal we had eaten nearly every day in Java of nasi goreng fried rice with vegetables but we did not care. The simplicity of jungle life was strangely comforting. There was nowhere to go other than into tiger territory and nothing to buy. Our only entertainment other than each other was the fantastic scenery and a few scratched, subtitled DVDs. We watched sunsets and waves instead of mind-numbing television and we made real conversation, forging deeper relationships in weeks than one would over years back home. The stresses of modern life seemed a million miles away and I suddenly realised I felt free of the constraints that had held me back. My mother was still a bitter alcoholic, my sister was still married to a man I despised and my agent still had zero faith in my ability, but I was living a new reality. I felt as if I could reinvent myself and finally be the successful, adventurous woman I had dreamed of being.

‘Bailey,’ Jason whispered over the plates of half-eaten fried rice, ‘do you want to go get some air?’

I glanced around us at the wall-less dining room.

‘Isn’t there enough air here already?’

‘I need to escape,’ Jason shrugged. ‘I’m a bit drained.’

I nodded and we slipped out into the darkness. The beach was bathed in the light of the moon and the quirky calls of unidentified jungle creatures competed with the constant drum of the ocean. We sat side by side on the boat jetty. I pulled the sleeves of my top down to cover my hands and curled my feet underneath me so as little skin as possible was showing for the mosquitoes to dine on. In the distance the waves darkened the horizon creating the effect of high walls enclosing a medieval town.

‘Rory and Ruby are a lovely couple,’ I said after a while.

‘Aren’t they great? They’re just meant to be together, aren’t they? A dream team.’

‘Definitely. Have you noticed how they even look a bit like each other? Same smile, same mannerisms. I think really compatible couples often do.’

‘So then I have to find myself a short, buff girl with weird coloured eyes and webbed feet.’

‘You’re not that short.’

I nudged him.

‘Five ten and a half.’

‘Don’t forget the half. Well it’s a good height for a surfer. Low centre of gravity.’

‘Hey, you really are learning. I’m impressed.’

I shrugged.

‘It’s my job. I’m paid to know these things.’

I looked over at him and my eyes travelled down to his feet dangling down towards the still water of the lagoon.

‘Did you say webbed feet?’

Jason lifted up his bare foot.

‘Yep, my dad does too. It must be something in the water.’

I paused to look.

‘That truly is quite disgusting.’

Jason grinned.

‘No wonder you surf like you do. You don’t have gills as well do you? That may be considered cheating.’

Jason brushed his blond hair from his forehead and laughed.

‘No, no gills.’

His eyes met mine and flashed as silver as the reflection of the moon in the water below us.

‘I enjoy being with you, you know,’ he said after a pause, ‘I’m so glad you came back.’

‘I am too. This is one experience I would not have missed for the world’ - I inhaled deeply, the jungle air fresh and alive - ‘and I’m glad you’ve had such a positive start to the year.’