Surf Sisters

by Laurine Croasdale

  Marlee’s hands shook as she wrote her number down then skipped into the surf, lifting the nose of her board over the shore break, water smacking her chest, the coldness taking her breath away. She threw herself under the next wave fighting the urge to look back.

  An hour later the minibuses drove into the car park. The girls pulled on their black wetsuits and brightly coloured jerseys as they listened to Christie, their eyes glued to the surf. As soon as she let them go they ran down the sand and within minutes it looked as though someone had tossed a packet of Smarties across the water, their bright yellow, green, blue and pink competition shirts dotting the break. There was instant noise and bustle and a queue formed for the line-up with every girl jostling for a wave.

  Fizz paddled past. ‘Hey, Marlee, you’re rippin’ today. It’s been killing me having to sit on the beach and watch. Hope you’re ready to share!’

  ‘No way.’

  Fizz laughed, assuming Marlee was joking, and Marlee knew she’d had the place to herself for over an hour so surely she had no right to complain. But it wasn’t her problem they’d missed out, she reasoned, so why should she have to drop back now because they’d decided to take over? Fizz tucked in low on a wave, flipping a massive cut back, turning to make sure the photographer had caught it, and Marlee was right behind, pushing herself into the take-off spot, almost clashing boards with one of the girls. ‘Hey, back off,’ the girl called but Marlee kept paddling, her eyes locked on her line through the water, her new board firing.

  She turned to paddle back out in time to catch Tilly screaming down the face of a wave. Her fluid style made it look effortless and she executed a series of textbook turns with the grace of a dancer. She spotted Marlee and flicked off the wave, paddling quickly over, her mouth thin. ‘I can’t believe how long Christie can talk. First it’s breakfast, then a team talk, then a strategy session. Surfing’s the last thing we get to do. It’d be different if Mitch was here.’

  ‘Well you don’t have to stay. I’ve been out here for an hour. Just me and four dolphins. I can tell you where I’d rather be. Not that it seems to be affecting you! That last wave was awesome. Did Fizz help you with that new turn?’

  Tilly chuckled. ‘Kinda. She lent me some videos. I think I watched them all on slo-mo about fifty times. Sam told me I looked like an idiot, copying them in the lounge room, but I reckon it paid off. Hey, Marlee, you need to be careful. You’re upsetting some of the girls. Last night the photographer was showing off her shots and you were in every second frame. They might hustle you a bit. They think you’re showing them up. Talk about a gathering of the egos!’

  Marlee shrugged. ‘Hey! Some guy quizzed me about sponsors this morning. He wants to meet up later.’

  ‘Fantastic! See, I told you it was only a matter of time.’

  ‘Yeah, they knocked me back a few months ago. Still, I’m not proud. I’ll hear him out.’ Marlee sat astride her board, her fingers stroking through the water. ‘How’s the house going then? Doesn’t sound like you’re enjoying it much.’

  ‘Not really. Everyone’s a bit tense now the contest is getting closer, and I’m missing you. And even though I speak to Jamie every day, I can’t tell you how much I’m missing him. Christie and Pink have been arguing a lot too. That’s been pretty bad.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Pink won’t say but they’ve been at each other for days. Last night they didn’t speak to each other at all.’ She looked at the shore. ‘Look at them. Christie’s already pointing the finger and Pink’s got her hands on her hips. C’mon, let’s get some more waves.’

  On the beach Pink and Christie stood facing each other, the wind whistling between them. ‘Jasmine, you might be here for a good time but these girls are here to compete so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop organising parties and movie marathons. The girls need to focus. And enough about the hardware store. You might think it’s funny telling everyone in sight how a toilet works but I don’t. It’s crass. I’m sick and tired of my daughter telling everyone she sells toilets.’

  Pink laughed. Her expanding range of plumbers’ stories had been an unqualified hit with everyone at the house. ‘Well, don’t bust your poo-poo valve, Mum!’ Pink joked but Christie scowled. Pink added, crushed, ‘Sorry, it’s just a plumber’s joke. It’s all in good fun.’

  ‘That’s precisely what I’m talking about, Jasmine. And exactly why I’ve told that hardware store you won’t be coming back.’

  ‘What? No way! You had no right to do that! I don’t want to leave.’

  ‘Well I’ve decided it’s time for you to be good at something more appropriate, so I want you to take the hairdresser’s job.’

  Pink’s disappointment and anger burned inside with nowhere else to go but out. ‘No! I’m tired of you trying to control everything I do!’

  Christie drummed her fingers against her arm. ‘I decide what’s best for you, you’re my daughter.’

  ‘So? Did you always do what your parents thought was right? Did it stop you going out with Jack Finn?’ It was only a hunch but as soon as Pink saw the expression on her mother’s face she knew she’d hit home. She enjoyed the moment.

  Christie stepped closer to Pink, her voice low. ‘That’s the second time you’ve brought this up. What exactly are you trying to say about me and Jack Finn?’

  ‘Just that there’s like a whole photo album of you and him stuck to each other like chewie on a shoe. You seemed to spend a lot of time with him for someone you didn’t like.’ Pink paused for a minute, sensing her mother’s hesitation. ‘Or maybe he dropped you?’

  Tears welled in Christie’s eyes. ‘Jasmine! I don’t understand where this anger is coming from.’

  ‘It’s you. You always have to have your own way. Maybe that didn’t work with Jack Finn. Is that why you dislike him still? Is that why you’re so horrible to Marlee? Because she’s Jack’s daughter?’ And then another more dangerous thought resurfaced. ‘Am I Jack’s daughter too? Is that why you’re always horrible to me?’

  Christie stepped backwards, a protective hand across her stomach as though she’d been hit. ‘What?! How could you say such a thing?’ she gasped. She walked a few steps away, then back to Pink. ‘I’ve had enough. I thought that it would be good for us to spend some time here together but you’re disruptive, argumentative and rude. I will not be drawn into this pointless discussion any further.’ She pointed at the van. ‘Go back to the house. You can move your things out of the girls’ quarters and stay with me until your father arrives.’ Christie didn’t wait for Pink’s response. She turned away, headed for the far end of the beach.

  Marlee lifted the tent flap, warm sun spilling over her. She crossed her legs, placed a slightly open hand on each knee and closed her eyes. Thoughts dropped into her head, like emails into an inbox but she gently batted them away and with them the nerves that fluttered in her stomach whenever she thought about the contest. She breathed deeply and with each breath a little calmness filtered through.

  For the first time Marlee wanted to stay there longer but she pushed herself to rejoin the world, the tents around her a little sharper in colour as the light gained strength. She did her stretches, visualising the line-up of the banks, seeing herself on a wave, then jogged towards the beach. The purple wildflowers had gone and in their place yellow flowers stretched across paddock after paddock. Marlee paused for a moment watching the breeze riffle through them so she could describe it to Fran.

  When she got back to the campsite Tilly was sitting in front of a roaring fire, her bag and board near the tent. Cans and packets were lined up near the tree trunk like a little pantry. ‘Can I come and stay? I’ve brought food.’

  ‘Sure.’ Marlee grinned. ‘I wondered why I didn’t see you out in the surf this morning. I thought you must have been worn out from yesterday.’

  Tilly tipped chocolate powder into the billy and pulled a stick of toast out of the fire, spreading it thickly with peanut butter. ‘It’s too noisy at the house. I
can’t sleep and I can’t seem to clear my head.’

  Marlee wriggled out of her wetsuit, stealing a bite of Tilly’s toast. ‘Yum. What’s for dinner then? I’m so sick of my own cooking.’

  Tilly nodded towards another car coming in. ‘This place is filling up.’ Cars and vans, boards stacked high, had arrived steadily over the last few days and the canvas township bustled with life. Towels swayed on tree branches and cooking smells wafted on the breeze. ‘Don’t tell me it’s going to go crazy here too,’ said Tilly.

  By afternoon the surf was blown out and the sun beat down, a relentless dry heat. Tilly and Marlee dragged their sleeping bags under the trees for a siesta. ‘Marlee!’ Tilly whispered, nudging her. ‘Look – look over there. It’s Frida Pirez and Tia Marzo. Up there. On the deck outside that cabin.’ Marlee squinted and Tilly squeezed her arm. ‘Don’t make it so obvious. I can’t believe they’re staying here too.’

  Tilly spun in a circle, laughing, then bent down to Marlee, whispering ‘I’ve got a photo of Tia Marzo on the cover of my English book.’

  ‘We might be surfing against them in a few days.’ Marlee’s belly twitched involuntarily as the reality of the contest dawned on her all over again. This wasn’t a friendly junior comp. It was a whole new league and she didn’t know what the rules were or how it would be in the water. Her doubts popped up like fishing buoys in her tummy. Marlee tried to swallow them away.

  In the late afternoon a game of tip started and Tilly was straight into the thick of it. Marlee was sitting by their fire, too shy to join in, when Pink appeared, rolling her overstuffed suitcase. She stopped to straighten it each time it tipped on the uneven tufts of grass until she gave up and dragged it behind her. Marlee watched her coming with a sinking heart.

  Pink dropped her bag sideways and sat down, hands towards the fire, silent. ‘You okay?’ asked Marlee.

  Pink shook her head, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. ‘I hate my mother.’ Marlee said nothing but filled the billy, nudging it as close to the flames as she dared. Pink sniffed, wiping her face on her sleeve. Eventually she pointed at the billy. ‘I can rig that up so it sits over the fire and you can lift it on and off.’

  ‘Yeah? That’d be great. I burned my hand trying to get it off the fire the other day.’ Marlee showed Pink the blisters on her palm.

  Tilly raced over from the game and rummaged inside the tent for her water bottle. She glanced at Marlee then Pink. ‘What’s up?’ Tilly asked Pink, not overly sympathetic.

  ‘I can’t stay there.’

  Tilly laughed. ‘Me either because you and Fizz party all night.’

  Pink sniffed, wounded. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise we were making so much noise. Was it you who complained to my mother?’

  Tilly shook her head. ‘No, course not. So why can’t you stay?’

  ‘Mum and I had another fight.’ Pink shifted uncomfortably on her suitcase, the conversation with her mother still burning inside her. ‘Everything I’ve done this year’s been wrong. She wanted to keep me at boarding school even though I was unhappy, she was angry that I came home, annoyed I chose my own job. She’s even mad that I liked it. And now she’s taken that away too.’ Tears dripped down her cheeks and she wiped them away. ‘She hates me. No matter what I do or how hard I try, it’s never enough.’ Pink put her head on her knees and began to cry.

  ‘But that’s not all,’ she mumbled after a few minutes.

  ‘It isn’t?’ Marlee glanced at Tilly, wondering what was coming next.

  Pink said nothing.

  ‘Pink? What is it?’ Tilly asked.

  Pink turned to Marlee. ‘Your father used to go out with my mother. Did you know that?’ Marlee shook her head and looked towards the fire. ‘They went out for two years. You and I were born in the same year, the year they were still going out.’ Pink hesitated, then continued. ‘I think your father might be my father.’ Marlee stared disbelievingly at Pink, then Tilly. Pink broke down again. ‘I love my dad. I want him to be my dad.’

  Marlee rubbed her forehead, confused, the information pounding through her head in waves. She watched Tilly for her response, then looked back at Pink. ‘Are you serious?’ she said, still stunned. ‘I don’t know what to think. This is the first I’ve ever heard of this.’

  ‘That can’t be right, Pink,’ said Tilly. ‘It’s probably all a misunderstanding.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Of course,’ Marlee agreed.

  ‘I don’t know. I asked my mother and she didn’t deny it.’ Pink hung her head, crying again.

  ‘She didn’t?’ said Marlee, alarmed.

  Pink shook her head. ‘Not really. She didn’t actually say: “Jack Finn is not your father.” And you would, wouldn’t you? If it wasn’t true, wouldn’t you say that?’ Pink sniffed. ‘She can’t take my dad away from me. She’s horrible.’

  ‘Stay here with us, Pinkie,’ said Marlee, not daring to look at Tilly. ‘There’s room here and you could help us.’

  ‘I could?’ Pink’s face was puffy and red. She wiped her nose on her skirt. ‘How?’

  ‘Well you could fix the billy up on the fire, like you said. And help us in the surf. Stuff like that.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Pink looked doubtful. She sniffed, watching Marlee but not saying anything, then turned to Tilly.

  Tilly smiled reassuringly. ‘Of course you can stay with us. But no partying, okay?’

  ‘Sure.’ Pink looked as though she’d never party again in her life. ‘Well, if you’re sure it’s all right. Maybe just until Dad turns up.’ Pink straightened up, snorking back a nose of snot. She chewed her bottom lip pensively, then unzipped her bag, laying her sleeping bag inside the tent. ‘This is like when we all slept in your bed at home, Tilly,’ she laughed shakily.

  ‘Hey, Pink, you hungry?’ Tilly asked.

  Pink stuck her head out of the tent, tears falling again. ‘I forgot to bring food. I’m sorry. I’m so hopeless.’

  ‘You are not hopeless.’ Marlee tapped Pink’s big suitcase. ‘Come and sit down. We’ve got plenty of stuff to make burritos and we can buy more food tomorrow. You raised the money I’ve been spending on food, remember so you have more than put in already.’ She put her arm around Pink’s shoulder. ‘Welcome to Motel Marlee!’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Tilly and Marlee picked up their boards and headed for the beach. As they left Pink back at camp Tilly, her voice low even though Pink couldn’t hear her, said, ‘Do you believe that about your dad and her mum?’

  ‘I don’t even want to think about it. Do you think Pink’s my sister? I lay awake half the night trying to figure out if there was any resemblance.’

  ‘Not much you can do about it now anyway,’ Tilly laughed. ‘But if it makes you feel any better you don’t look anything alike.’

  Another thought occurred to Marlee. ‘Do you think that’s why Christie’s never liked me?’

  ‘Probs. Maybe you should front Christie and see what she says.’

  ‘Pink’s already done that and look where it got her – and she’s her daughter! Poor Pink, I’ve never seen her so subdued. I wish this hadn’t come up right before the contest. My head’s spinning with everything that’s happening as it is.’ Marlee led the way down the beach, both girls looking out to the water.

  Every break was constantly busy now with surfers out at first light until the last shreds of dusk. Colourful boards flashed past with riders flying over the top of waves, the spray looping backwards in the strong offshore wind as they familiarised themselves with the idiosyncrasies of each break and the big, powerful waves while checking out the competition.

  A determination and focus had charged the pack, chit-chat ceased, and as Marlee’s anxiety grew she struggled to find the best line through a wave, something she’d managed instinctively the week before. Tilly, on the other hand, found it hard to keep her focus on surfing at all, and more than once Marlee found her daydreaming on her board or checking her watch, waiting till it was time to
call Jamie.

  ‘Hey, guess what?’ Tilly propped her board up against the tree and rubbed the towel through her hair, crouching next to Pink. ‘Some woman stopped Marlee when she got out of the surf today and wants to talk to her about sponsorship. She’d seen her photos on the contest website and tracked her down.’ Pink didn’t look as thrilled as Tilly thought she’d be. Mystified, she asked, ‘Don’t you think that’s great?’

  ‘Did she take the sponsorship?’ was all Pink said.

  ‘Don’t know. They’re talking about it now.’ Tilly disappeared inside the tent and reappeared with her toilet bag. ‘That makes three now and they’re all dangling big carrots!’ She stopped in front of Pink, who was still gazing into the fire. ‘As in long term, money, training, travel. How unreal is that! This contest is going to change everything for her, I can feel it.’

  ‘That’s fantastic,’ said Pink, not sounding happy at all.

  ‘If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were disappointed – and you her biggest supporter!’

  Pink smiled. ‘I am. I haven’t said anything to her because I need to talk it over with my parents, but I want to start something of my own up and I’d hoped Marlee would be in it with me.’

  Tilly zipped and unzipped her toilet bag. ‘Wow, you kept that pretty quiet. Well, guess there’s only one way to find out but you’d better do it soon. The sponsors are circling.’ She threw her bath towel over her shoulder and gathered her clothes. ‘I’m off for a hot shower and then I’m going to walk up the hill so I can get enough reception to call Jamie. See you in a bit.’

  As Pink stacked more wood onto the fire a scurry of sparks shot upwards. She sat back on her log, digging into the hard earth with a stick, face red from the heat of the flames.

  ‘Can I sit down?’ Christie pretended to dust a nearby log with her hand and perched on the edge. Pink looked up but said nothing. ‘I’ve brought you a few goodies.’ She pushed towards Pink a basket full of fruit and all her favourite deli things.