Summer Loving (8 page)

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Authors: Nicola Yeager

BOOK: Summer Loving
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She pulls out a sheet of paper, sticks a pen on top and pushes it across to me.

‘This is just something for you to fill in. No rush, but they insist we do it. For now just stick down your name, signature and room number. We’ll charge the lessons to your room. You can do the other stuff later. Or you can do it now. Doesn’t matter much, really,’ She laughs, ‘We burn them afterwards. Only kidding.’

I take the form and start writing.

‘I noticed you yesterday out front. You’re here with your dad, yeah?’

Jesus Christ.

‘No. No, he’s just a – a friend.’

She laughs. ‘Oops!’

Turning away from me, rather embarrassed, I suspect, she taps something on the computer keyboard and squints at the screen.

‘Well, I’m afraid I’ve got a beginner lesson in five minutes, then a break and then I’m fully booked for the rest of today. There’s really nowhere I can squeeze you in. But…hold on…’

She does some more typing, looks at the screen again and smiles.

‘OK. No worries. My colleague has got a lot of gaps this afternoon. Just let me check for a moment. In fact… he could probably do you straight away, if you’ve got nothing else on. If that’s too soon, don’t worry.’

What a stroke of luck. ‘That would be perfect.’

I give her one of my nicest smiles. She turns to look at the door behind the reception desk and shouts at whoever’s in there.

‘Can you come out here when you’ve finished destroying the place? Lady wants a private lesson.’

‘Sure.’

What happens next seems to be in slow motion, but I’m sure it was really only a matter of seconds. A tall, good-looking guy appears in the doorway. Orange iridium shades, green O’Neill t-shirt, black cargo shorts. And the smile drops from my face.

Oh Christ, no. Oh no. It can’t be.

I don’t know whether I’m hyperventilating or sobbing. I try to take big gulps of air, but I’m repeatedly and rapidly breathing out. I feel faint. My eyes fill with tears and I can feel them running down my cheeks. For a second, I wonder if I’m having a heart attack. I put a hand out to support myself on the edge of the reception desk and place the other across my chest as I try to gulp in air.

I hear Janica’s concerned voice, but I can’t see her. My peripheral vision seems to have crashed. ‘Are you OK? Excuse me? Miss? Madam? Oh, Jesus.’

I hear her rush around the desk and in a second, she’s got an arm around my shoulder. She grabs my chin, lifts my head up and looks into my eyes. She looks frightened.

‘Come over here. Come over here and sit down. Oh hell.’

She manhandles me towards a chair a few feet away and I collapse into it. My breathing is ragged now and there’s no doubt about it; I’m crying my eyes out. I can’t stop it. Am I going mad?

She pushes my head between my knees. I reach up with one h
and and try to wipe the tears from my face. My whole body is racked with sobs. Crazily, I think ‘So this is what totally losing it feels like!’

Janica stays with me, her arm still around my shoulders. ‘Kirstan, could you get this lady a glass of water, please? I think she’s having a funny turn.’

Through my tears, I watch the cause of my disturbing condition walk into the office behind the reception counter. Janica strokes my hair as I slowly recover and she watches my face intently.

‘Are you feeling better? Did you have some sort of panic attack or something? Have you got any medical conditions? Asthma? Diabetes? Epilepsy? Anything like that? How can we help?’

‘No. I don’t know. No. Nothing like that. Just felt a bit faint, that’s all.’ I’m talking with my hand across my mouth, intermittently jerking with sobs. ‘I’ll be OK if I can just sit down for a few minutes. I’m sorry. I’ll be OK.’

‘Oh, well if you’re sure it’s nothing serious. You gave me a bit of a shock just then.’

‘I know. I’m stupid. Sorry.’

‘That’s OK. Don’t worry about it.’

I sniff and look around. What was I doing down here again? Oh yes. Surfing lessons. She said she had a lesson to take. I hate being made a fuss over. I don’t like inconveniencing people, either.

‘I feel a lot better now. Don’t let me stop you doing anything.’

‘Are you really sure, darling?’

‘I’m really sure.’

‘OK. Listen sweetheart. I think you’re going to be alright now. You’ve got a bit more colour on your face. I have to go and take a lesson, but my colleague will look after you until you feel better.’

‘Yes. Yes, thank you. Sorry about this. I…’

‘That’s quite alright, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re going to be OK? I can stay with you, if you like. Doesn’t matter if I’m a few minutes late.’

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more foolish in my life. I can’t believe this has actually happened.

‘No. I’m alright now. Thank you for your help.’

‘OK. Maybe I’ll see you later. Take care.’

She pats me on the shoulder, gets up and strolls off. What a nice lady.

Kirstan, who still hasn’t recognised me, squats down holding a paper cup full of water.

‘Here. Try and drink some of this.’

I take the cup and almost choke as the water goes down the wrong way. I cough, recover, and then start sniffing. I’m crying again. I can’t help it. I must look a mess. I’ve split half the cup of water on the floor.

Kirsten is looking straight at me, but there’s not even a glimmer of recognition on his face. Why should there be? It’s been almost eight years. Also, the girl he knew had medium length brown hair and he’s looking at a woman with long blonde hair. On top of that, he’s hardly going to expect me to turn up at this hotel. I’m half wondering if I can get out of this without him realising it’s me.

‘I’m sorry about the water. I’ll mop it up.’

More tears threaten to appear. Kirsten frowns when he hears me speak. He takes off his shades, tilts his head to one side and looks into my eyes. Stupidly, I sob again, my hand over my mouth.

‘Sask? Is that you?’

He almost whispers it. I just stare at him blankly, shaking slightly. Well, could
you
think of anything smart to say under these circumstances? I sniff once more and smile half-heartedly.

‘It might be.’

This small attempt at witty repartee is too much for me and I place a hand over my mouth as I start sobbing again. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

He gently uses the back of his hand to clear some of the tears away from my face, then brushes away a few wisps of hair. His touch makes me shiver. ‘I didn’t recognise you. You’re blonde, then.’

‘Yes.’

‘Shit. It suits you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. What – what are you doing here?’

‘Holiday.’

‘Ah. It’s…yeah. It’s the summer.’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s why it’s so warm here.’

‘It’s, um, July.’

God almighty. This conversation couldn’t get more stilted if it tried.

‘I’m going to have to stand up now,’ he says, ‘My legs are starting to hurt from squatting down like this.’

‘OK.’

I feel sorry for him now. This must be so awkward. He looks like he’s in shock and he looks really distressed. He composes himself and looks at his watch.

‘So shall we get out there and spank a few waves?’

It’s no good. I just start sobbing again. I’m useless.

 

 

Six

 

I’m in the surf school changing room, flicking through a row of
shorty wetsuits. Kirstan looks at me, but doesn’t say anything; I think he’s still in the recovery phase, much like I am.

‘I’m sorry about that back then,’ I say, ‘I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually like that. It must have been awful for you and your colleague. You must think I’m a complete idiot. I just didn’t – I just didn’t expect…’

He smiles at me, but his eyes are sad.

‘Forget it. Must have been something like a panic attack, maybe. Happens to most women when they see me. In shops, bars, everywhere. Some have died of it. Was it my sunglasses? They’re pretty expensive. Oakley Radar Path. The chicks love them.’

He knows damn well what just happened. He’s just trying to make light of it to cheer me up.

After my reception area faux pas, when I had recovered enough to get up and speak normally again without bursting into tears, I excused myself and went up to my room to freshen up. I didn’t want to look completely stupid, even though it was definitely getting to that stage.

I was still determined to have a surfing lesson. Running away would make me look so,
so
pathetic and would probably traumatise me for the rest of the holiday.

After what had just happened, I definitely didn’t want to bump into Estelle and spend the rest of the day with her. That would have just been much too much. ‘Are you alright, babe? Has anything happened? You look a bit pale.’

I’m fine. It was just a shock. These things happen. All I needed was half an hour to compose myself. I can handle this. I’m a grown-up. I can cope. I’m good. I won’t let it touch me. Keep it together, Sask.

I had a shower and got into my spare swimsuit. I put a white cotton blouse over it and slipped into a dark red gingham skirt. I took a look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I felt a bit strange about Kirstan seeing that I’d become a blonde. Ashamed wasn’t the right word, but it was somewhere in that region. I felt I’d sold out, in some way, you know?

I moved from left to right, watching my reflection carefully. There was nothing wrong about my having had a boob job, nothing at all, but a part of me didn’t want Kirstan to know. God knows what he’d think. I wondered if I could get away with it. I was nineteen, for god’s sake. It was eight years ago. I could easily have put on a few pounds and they could all have gone to my chest. It was possible.

I realise that I was admiring myself in the mirror in much the same way that I would if I was going on a date. I still feel a little queasy. No. That’s the wrong word. I feel like I’m in pain. All those feelings I’d hidden away were threatening to make themselves known once more. That occasional stab in the heart is now a constant torment. I must be strong.

Back in the changing room, I can hear Kirstan talking in a low voice on his mobile. Something he’s ordered that hasn’t turned up. When he’s finished, I try to get his opinion on what I’m going to wear. It’s difficult. I really have to force myself to speak to him. I feel light-headed and dizzy.

‘Do you think this
one will fit me?’

I hold out a thin black wetsuit with fluorescent pink stripes all over it. Kirstan takes it from me, holds it up, looks me up and down and then hands it back.

‘That should be OK. Try it on and see how it feels. You’ll need a rash vest, too. Let me see…’

He selects two rash vests, one dark turquoise and one a horrible yellow.

‘These are different sizes. Try the yellow one on first. If that’s too small then the turquoise one should be just about right.’

He looks at me, and I can see where his eyes are resting. Has he noticed?

‘Take them both in the changing room with you and let me know if you need anything else.’

I take off the blouse and skirt. It’s a bit of a tight fit getting the rash vest over my swimsuit. I didn’t really see why I had to wear one of these vests, but Kirstan explained that most people get a rash where the wetsuit fits around the neck, so it was best to be on the safe side.

‘It’s really uncomfortable pulling this damn vest on.’

‘Take your swimsuit off!’

‘Very funny.’

‘D’you need any help in there?’

‘I’m fine, thank you.’

‘I can come in if you like.’

‘It’s OK. I’m managing.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘I help the
other
women that come down here.’

‘I’m sure you do.’

I can hear him laughing. Despite myself, it’s a sound that gives me goose pimples. Well, at least
he’s
recovered from the shock.

‘I didn’t get a chance to ask you; why are you here? I mean, you’re obviously on holiday…’

‘Well, you’ve answered your own question, then.’


I
see!’

‘What’s that meant to mean?’

‘Nothing. Listen. We’ll do this lesson now and I can fit another in tomorrow at ten-o-clock. That OK with you? I’ll definitely have you standing up by the time I’ve finished, if you’ll pardon the crude sexual subtext that I’m intentionally putting forward there.’

‘That’ll be fine. Thank you.’

I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to put a neoprene wetsuit on, but they are a major, major pain in the arse. This is a thin one; it has short sleeves and the legs only go down to the knees, so it’s not as bad as it could be, but it’s still extremely awkward. For me, anyway.

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