Cool Bananas (6 page)

Liz stared at her hot dog. ‘You know, this tastes heaps better than what Kay makes, doesn’t it? They must use a different cheese or maybe it’s the bread. You know —’

‘Would you shut up about your hot dog and stop evading the question?’

‘What question?’

‘You’re deliberately acting like a dumb bimbo,’ Flick shouted, causing several couples who were strolling past to turn their heads. Liz blushed.

‘Look, let’s sit here for a minute.’ Flick indicated a seat facing the sea and pulled Liz down beside her. ‘I’m not accusing you of anything, Liz. What I’m trying to get you to admit is that you felt a strong attraction for Danny even though you love Josh. And that’s how I felt about Kiev even though I love Tim.’

‘Maybe we’ve got cheating genes in our blood,’ said Liz miserably.

‘No. I think we’re sort of normal. I reckon you can love one guy in a particular way and get this magnetic attraction thing for another guy in another way. But most people don’t talk about it even if they feel like this. They grit their teeth and ignore it. Or they cheat and run round behind their partner’s back. Or they daydream about the other person. Or they break up with their partner. Maybe that’s why heaps of marriages break up.’

Liz stared at the beach. Then she nudged Flick. A girl about fifteen and a guy about eighteen were strolling along in the shallows: she was wearing a brief blue bikini and he was in board shorts. Every
now and then he’d kick up some water and she’d give a little squeal and run away. Then he coaxed her back and they stood hand in hand and gazed at each other. As Liz and Flick watched, he drew her into his arms and kissed her. Their two bodies welded as one as the sun sank into the sea.

‘So is that magnetic attraction?’ asked Liz. ‘Is what they’ve got between them this wild dizzy breathless helpless thing? Or is it romantic love? Or what?’

‘Dunno.’ Flick studied the couple as if they were on a glass slide under a microscope. ‘It could be a holiday romance. It could be a sexual attraction. It could be a love that lasts for life. That’s the rotten part.
I don’t know
. But then I guess nobody does. However, falling like a tonne of bricks for Kiev while I’m in love with Tim taught me one thing if nothing else.’

‘What?’

‘I understand how Todd, my ex, must have been feeling when he was cheating on me. Confused as hell. But the best thing is, now I don’t think that he rejected me because I wasn’t good enough, or that other girl was somehow better than me because he preferred her. I think he met her and zap — the rest is history. And hopefully now you won’t judge me so harshly for falling for Kiev, because you’re on the
brink of doing the same thing and falling for this Danny guy.’

Liz bit her lip. ‘The thing is, do I turn up tomorrow at six or not?’

Flick sighed as she swallowed the last of her hot dog. ‘Liz, I don’t know. If you do go, you’re asking for trouble, because Josh will find out if you start cheating on him.

‘And if you don’t go, you’ll never know what would have happened if you had. It’s a sort of win–lose situation, but it could be a win–win if you do what’s right for you. Like stay with Josh and ignore Danny. Or break off with Josh and go with Danny. Or a lose–lose because this Danny could dump you and Josh won’t want you back.’

‘It’s so complicated,’ Liz groaned.

‘You’re telling me. But mine’s easier to cope with because Kiev hasn’t got in touch. So I don’t have to make a decision, do I?’

‘Yeah. You’re cool bananas. But me? I don’t know what to do.’

‘Well, there’s one thing we both have to do,’ said Flick, jumping up and hauling her friend to her feet. ‘Let’s forget about guys and all the hassles they bring.
We
have to make Kay her new sign!’

They hurried up the hill to Liz’s place. The holiday
house was built on the hill overlooking Coolini Beach, set among the tall gums, and there was a magnificent view of the beach, the point, the store, and the winding road further up the coast. For the past ten years Liz’s parents had always brought their van to the camping ground, but then her father had decided it would be good to have a house, so he’d bought the land and had the beach house built by a local builder. This was their first summer season in it.

There were four large bedrooms, two with bunk beds, so they could invite friends, but seeing as she was working at the store, Liz hadn’t bothered to ask anyone from Melbourne. She didn’t have time to entertain friends. Tim often had his mates staying, but they usually took off early each day to search for the ultimate wave.

When the house was designed, Liz’s dad had made sure that the huge lounge room faced east to catch the morning sun. There were floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding doors right along the verandah, and slat-type blinds that could be shut if the weather was too hot. In the afternoon when the sun was moving to the west, the room was cool and comfortable. At the far end of the verandah was a table and chairs, with a Webber barbecue in the corner.

This house had been built for entertaining, and to make life easier for Liz’s mum if and when they had hordes of visitors, although this summer what with her grandparents being ill and her parents now away in Queensland, there hadn’t been the opportunity for many parties.

The house stood high off the ground on stilts, and the underneath part had been covered with weatherboards and the interior turned into another shower room, toilet and rumpus room with a second TV set, a pool table and table tennis table, so that on wet days people could play games.

Standing on the verandah that overlooked the ocean, Liz and Flick sipped their coffee and gazed at the moon’s silhouette over the calm water. Further up the coast they could just make out the twinkling lights of Lorne.

‘Your parents seem to have a good marriage,’ Flick remarked.

Liz shrugged. ‘Sometimes they argue but most times they get along fine.’

‘I guess in a marriage you just have to take your chances.’ Flick stared up at the stars, then she sighed. ‘There’s supposed to be good surf tomorrow.’

Liz set down her coffee cup and went off to find the materials to make the sign.

‘Yes. The beach will be crowded,’ she called over her shoulder as she walked down the stairs that led under the house. Courtesy of the builder there were lots of pieces of chipboard stored there. Liz scrounged round and found two identical pieces of wood and some rope. She hoped they could attach the rope to make a sandwich board that was free-standing.

Walking back up the stairs Liz thought about the surfers. Like Tim and his mates, they were on an eternal quest to find the ultimate wave. And if the forecast was right, it looked like the end of the quest was right here at Coolini Beach, but of course there could be better surf further down the coast. They’d drive off early in the morning to check it out then probably all come back. They seemed to spend half their surfing time searching instead of surfing. And they also spent a lot of time eating. But would they come to the Kayah Cafe or Martini’s Hot Foods?

A male koala grunted, pig-like, in a nearby tree, and further up the hill a female grunted in response.

‘I wonder if koalas have a magnetic attraction to each other,’ said Flick, as Liz returned with the two pieces of chipboard and plonked them on the verandah.

‘Definitely not,’ called Flick, who’d studied up on koalas when the old male kept grunting overhead in
the camping ground and disturbing her sleep. ‘The male practically rapes the female. He grabs her savagely, pushes her against the tree trunk and does his thing.’

‘Well, at least we don’t have to put up with
that
! Do you think these pieces will be big enough?’ Liz indicated the boards.

‘Perfect.’

Liz grinned and went off to find the paint as Flick began rubbing the boards with sandpaper. They were nice and smooth already, so she was finished in double-quick time when Liz returned with tins of paint and different-sized brushes.

‘How are we going to tackle this job?’

‘I think we should each paint a board. This olive green looks good, don’t you think? Then we can add a bush scene and a beach scene and the writing can sort of swirl over the top.’

‘They won’t be the same.’

‘Yeah, but people won’t be able to see both sides at once, will they? Let’s paint the background colour on tonight and while it’s drying we can sketch out our ideas.’

The two friends spent the next hour painting the boards and then sketching out some drafts.

‘I like this one best,’ said Flick. It showed
waves curling in from the right and trees on the left. A surfer rode the curling crest and a koala clung to a tree.

‘As long as we don’t get it muddled,’ grinned Liz, ‘and end up with the koala surfing and the surfer up the tree.’

Before they knew it, the clock showed midnight and it was time for bed.

‘I meant to hit the sack at ten,’ groaned Liz. ‘We have to be down at the store by seven.’

‘Don’t worry, seven hours of sleep’ll be enough.’

‘Your maths is appalling. We still have to fit in breakfast and a shower.’

‘Oh, stop being such a worrywart and get to bed!’

Flick went into Tim’s room. It felt comfortable and familiar, sort of like Tim himself.

But was it comfortable enough?

‘Go away,’ Flick moaned, beating at the air with her clenched fists. ‘Go away!’

‘Are you having a nightmare?’ Liz asked anxiously, peering into her face.

‘No. I just don’t want to get up, that’s all.’

‘Well, you have to, because it’s a special day.’

‘Huh?’

‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Flick, happy birthday to you! Hip hip, hooray.’

Two kookaburras started laughing their heads off outside the bedroom window.

‘Nineteen. I’m so
old
,’ moaned Flick, as Liz pushed back the curtains and perched on the end of the bed.

‘Get up. It’s a beautiful sunrise and I’ve got your brekky ready on the verandah.’

‘You’re so good to me,
not
,’ said Flick. ‘What time is it?’

‘Five-thirty.’

‘What? Do you take happy pills when you wake up or something?’ Flick groaned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. ‘I feel like I’ve been run over by a Mack truck.’

‘Have a quick shower and you’ll feel better.’

Flick staggered across into the bathroom and mindful of the fact that this house, like all the others at Coolini Beach, relied on tank water, had a very quick shower.

Ruefully she looked at herself in the mirror. There were wrinkles in the corners of her eyes from squinting at the sun when she forgot to take her sunnies to the beach, which was nearly every day. What with constant early shifts she hadn’t had time to moisturise her face. Or body. Or shave her legs and under her arms and her bikini line. You could practically
plait
the hairs. Quickly she whizzed a shaver (probably Tim’s) over the offending bits. She had mozzie bites on her legs, and when she shaved them, the tops came off, leaving little red volcanos, so she dabbed on some antiseptic cream. Now she looked like a walking,
wrinkled lamington. But at least she was hairless.

‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all? Well, not
you
. Wrinkle queen. Nineteen! Oh well …’ Flick pulled a face at herself in the mirror, ‘I could be a lot worse off. Cheer up.’

When she stepped onto the verandah wearing Tim’s robe with a towel wrapped turban-style round her head, Liz handed her a gaily wrapped parcel.

‘Happy birthday. Don’t drop it.’

It felt heavy. Carefully Flick undid the paper and found the most beautiful sculpture of a dolphin at play.

‘Oh,’ breathed Flick, ‘it’s just gorgeous.’

‘And here’s your next present.’

Liz switched on the answerphone. ‘Hi, Flick, it’s me Tim wishing you a happy birthday and letting you know I’ll be home round six Monday night, and you’ll get your present then. And here’s a kiss to keep you going.’

There was the most awful sound, like a bogged hippopotamus getting dragged out of a mud bath. Liz and Flick burst out laughing.

‘How romantic!’

‘He tried.’

‘It’s a miracle that he remembered. Oh, you! I’ll bet you reminded him, didn’t you?’

‘Tim can hardly even remember his own name, address and phone number when he’s surfing, let alone something important like your birthday.’ Liz grinned. Then her face looked sad. ‘I wish Josh would phone me. I might as well be dead for all he cares.’

‘Boys are like that,’ soothed Flick. ‘They only really use phones to talk about sport with their mates. They’re not phone-hogs at all. Girls are more social on phones. I read some research last year. Females use phones to bond, males use phones for work purposes. It’s to do with different brains and different genes.’

‘Well, I still wish Josh would remember to use the phone card in his jeans!’

‘Come on, let’s get down the slave mine and put in our hard day’s slog.’

The girls dressed quickly, Liz in navy shorts and striped top, and Flick in a black mini and white top.

Both had runners on their feet.

‘I don’t know how Angela can totter around all day in those platforms she wears,’ said Liz. ‘Mum reckons her feet will be wrecked by the time she’s thirty.’

‘She’s been wearing her Blundstones lately,’ Flick pointed out. ‘She told me she was developing a bunion.’

‘Now that’s
not
sexy. What if some bloke wants to
suck her toes, and there’s this whopping great bunion staring him in the eyeball. What a turn-off.’

‘Speaking of turn-offs and leading into turn-ons, what are you going to do about Danny?’

‘I thought about it last night,’ said Liz seriously. ‘And I’ve decided not to go to his van. But if he comes looking for me, then I’ll let fate decide what should happen.’

‘Maybe you’ll get a clue when you read your stars.’

Liz was a big believer in astrology. In her opinion, her destiny was already written in the stars. Every morning when they had a tea break she’d grab the newspapers and the latest magazines that had come in, and read her star sign. She also read them aloud for Flick, Angela, Braden, Kay and anyone else who happened to be in the shop at the time. The problem was that each newspaper and magazine had conflicting predictions.

Liz was a Taurus.

‘That’d be right, plain bull-headed,’ said Kay, who didn’t believe in the stars to any great extent except when they said she was going to meet a tall, dark, handsome man because Cam was short, bald and not handsome, or when her stars said she was going to make a lot of money. But interestingly, for someone who said that she wasn’t interested, she seemed
to know a hell of a lot about the attributes of each star sign.

Flick was an Aquarius.

‘Hard-working, loyal and ambitious,’ said Kay. ‘Good qualities.’

Angela was a Scorpio.

‘Hot to trot but with a sting in the tail if provoked,’ was Kay’s verdict. ‘So don’t turn your back on a Scorpio.’

Braden was a Leo, and the least leonine-like Leo one could meet. Leos were supposed to be like lion kings, proud leaders who revelled in the limelight. Braden preferred to hit the headlines with the latest juicy gossip, but he was hardly leader material — he was almost scared of his own shadow. ‘Born on the cusp,’ said Kay. ‘Braden’s got more Virgo than Leo.’

Kay herself was a Capricorn, generous, hard-working, intelligent, kind, loving — well, that was how she saw it. The others saw her as determined, stubborn and sometimes pig-headed, but honest and kind.

By the time Flick and Liz had walked briskly down the hill, people were streaming like ants into the store to get their early-morning milk, bread and papers, as well as a few of the stalwart surfers who were ordering
Kay’s Big Breakfast — steak, two sausages, bacon, two eggs, tomatoes and a hash brown with toast and coffee for $7.00. Over at the hot food van you couldn’t get that, but you could get an egg and bacon sandwich for $2.00.

‘It’s gunna be a scorcher,’ said one guy as the girls went into the shop to put on their aprons and wash their hands.

Already a northerly wind had sprung up, and if it increased in velocity the temperature would soar. The forecast was for 38°C in Melbourne, although on the coast the sea breezes usually kept the temperature lower. But it was definitely still going to be hot.

And on days when there were strong northerly winds there was also far more danger of bushfires. Already there’d been one big bushfire near Kennedys Creek. Seventy hectares had been burnt about eight kilometres north-west of Princetown and twelve kilometres south of Simpson, and it was still burning. Fortunately, the fire had been contained by back-burning and the firemen said they had secured the eastern boundary, but in a northerly it could jump the control line and set the Otways alight. Helicopters had been seen flying over in that direction to do water-drops, but there was only so much that could be done fighting against the elements when
nature decided to throw a wobbly, because this fire was supposed to have been caused by lightning.

Closer to Coolini Beach there had been a small outbreak in the hills behind Wye River, and arson was suspected, but it had been quickly brought under control.

Most of the men and some of the women residents of Coolini Beach belonged to the Country Fire Authority, and there were regular fire information sessions for the general public and holiday-makers. Emergency plans had been put in place, and the designated disaster area for Coolini Beach was near the foreshore and sheltered by high cliffs from westerly and northerly winds. It was one of the always present hazards of living along the coast on the fringe of the Otway forest.

‘Good bushfire weather,’ said one of the tourists loudly as the girls walked past. ‘I think we’ll get outa here and head back to Surfers where it’s safe.’

‘Safe?’ muttered Liz. ‘They’ve got stingers and stonefish, and bigger sharks than down here, not to mention mozzies bigger than your thumbnail and sandflies that bite the hell out of you. Like, most people don’t even swim in the sea, they swim in hotel pools or spend the day at the wave pool at Wet and Wild.’

‘They can’t have a bushfire in Surfers. It’s all concrete,’ said Flick. ‘But I guess they get major ones in the rainforests nearby. I hate bushfires and I can’t understand the sick mentality of creeps who go round deliberately lighting fires.’

‘Yeah. Some nutters in Melbourne last week were setting hedges on fire. I mean, what’s their problem? What have hedges ever done to
them
?’

‘I dunno. There’s some weirdos in this world.’

Flick and Liz hurried over to see Kay.

‘And happy birthday, dear Flick,’ she beamed, handing her a parcel.

‘Oh, thank you, Kay. I didn’t know you knew it was my birthday.’

‘It’s not much, just something I organised on the spur of the moment. I hope you like it.’

Flick tore off the paper. There was a big box of chocolates and two pairs of black lacy knickers.

‘I hope they’re the right size,’ said Kay. ‘I can change them if they’re not.’

‘Thanks, Kay,’ said Flick, overcome with emotion, because Kay was like a mother to her, in fact heaps better than her own mother, who’d probably forget her birthday anyway. She always did.

The girls went into the back room to put on their aprons. Propped in a plastic bucket of water was an
enormous bouquet of long-stemmed red roses. There had to be at least fifty of them.

‘Arrived on the paper van this morning. They’re for you,’ beamed Kay. ‘Read the card.’

Flick was dumbfounded. For her? Mum and Rolf must have remembered her birthday. It couldn’t be Tim, because he’d never be able to afford this many red roses. He’d be pushed to afford one!

‘Imagine this gorgeous bouquet travelling with all the newspapers on the early bus.’ Liz giggled. ‘Go on, open the envelope. I can’t wait!’

There was a small cream envelope attached to the flowers. Breathing in the heady scent of red roses, Flick carefully opened the card. Her eyes widened with shock when she read out aloud what it said.

‘To Felicity, with love on your birthday, from Kiev.’

‘Omigod,’ said Liz, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. ‘Omigod! How did he know it was your birthday? And how does he know your name’s really Felicity?’

‘We were talking about names,’ said Flick slowly, ‘and I said Flick was short for Felicity and he said Kiev’s short for Kieran, because his little sister couldn’t say “r” and it sounded like Kiev, and the name stuck. And his birthday’s the same date as mine,
which is why he remembered. Only he’s not nineteen, he’s twenty-two.’

‘Omigod!’ Liz took the card out of Flick’s fingers and read it for herself. ‘I can’t believe it.’

Flick was still in shock. Then her eyes narrowed. ‘I suppose it really
is
from him, and not some moron playing a joke? I mean, the writing’s like a woman’s, sort of pale and spidery.’

‘That’s the florist’s handwriting, you bimbo-head,’ said Kay, peering at the card. ‘It’s been sent through Interflora, which means he’s interstate. Or overseas.’

‘Overseas?’

Of course, Flick thought, he’d had to fly somewhere and that’s why he hadn’t got in touch. But even a postcard would have been reassuring. Or a phone call. Here she’d been struggling to forget the feelings Kiev had aroused in her, dumping mental buckets of water on the flames until they were just glowing embers, ready to welcome Tim home with open arms, and now this! It wasn’t fair! She could
kill
Kiev. But at the same time a wild exhilaration flowed through her veins like molten larva.
He cared
. The card even said ‘with love’. But then again, in show business people called each other
love
and
darling
all the time and it didn’t mean a thing. But if he didn’t care then why had he sent the flowers?

‘How am I supposed to thank him?’ said Flick, turning the card over.

‘Didn’t he give you a personal contact number or address?’ Kay asked.

‘No.’

‘And it didn’t enter your head to ask for one?’

‘I’d only just met him,’ cried Flick in defence. ‘And anyway, you’re always telling us that the male should do the chasing and we should wait all prim and proper to be asked out, and not chase guys and phone them up or they’ll lose respect for us. That’s what you
always
say.’

‘Not in the case of a classic catch like Kiev,’ said Angela, who had her head in the roses sniffing deeply. ‘Then, you’re supposed to pull out all stops. A chance like that only comes along once in a lifetime.’

‘Well I guess you’ll have to write to him care of his fan club,’ said Kay, practical as always. ‘Now, if I were you, I’d put your flowers in the coolroom to keep them fresh, get the love-sick look off your face and start work.’

As they stood side by side at the counter taking orders and serving customers, Flick shot a glance at Liz.

‘This doesn’t change how I feel about Tim,’ she said. ‘A bunch of red roses for my birthday was a
lovely thought, but it’s really insignificant in the overall scheme of things, isn’t it?’

‘Is it?’ Liz shook her head. ‘I don’t know, Flick. But at least I understand how you feel, because I’m struggling not to walk across the road right now and stare at Danny.’

‘Well, that’s a bigger temptation for you, because he’s just across the road, whereas Kiev’s probably thousands of kilometres away and I haven’t got a clue where he is.’