That night all three girls went to bed early. At dawn, Marlee wriggled outside in her sleeping bag and meditated before waking Tilly. Pink had the fire going when they returned from their first surf, with bread and sticks lined up to make toast, hot baked beans, and boiling water for hot chocolate.
Towards midday, when the tide was almost full, and the waves were becoming sloppy and unpredictable, Marlee paddled back out for an extra session. She tried to position herself, searching the sand dunes for her stick. But there was no way she could spot a tiny stick among the grasses in the dunes. And then Marlee saw Pink, standing in just the right spot, waving. Marlee paddled until she was in line with Pink, giving her the thumbs-up before taking off on the wave.
When they returned to camp two hours later they found Tilly in clean-up mode. She ducked in and out of the tent like a woodpecker, each time carrying handfuls of gear which she stuffed into a big bag. ‘I’m not spending another night sleeping on top of your free bling,’ she told Marlee, holding up a pair of sunglasses. ‘Or your new flippers in five colours.’ The bag got bigger and bigger until gear poked out the top and Tilly dragged it under the trees, then called Pink to one side to discuss something Marlee couldn’t quite hear. Pink shook her head, glancing at Marlee.
‘What’s up?’ Marlee asked, feeling uncomfortable.
‘I asked Pink if she’d given you one of her T-shirts yet.’
Pink blushed and looked away.
Tilly put her hands on her hips, mouth open. ‘Pink, you’re embarrassed! Well there’s a first time for everything.’
Pink busied herself zipping up her suitcase and dragging it outside to stand next to Marlee’s bag. ‘She won’t want my folksie old stuff now all the sponsors are sniffing around.’ Pink had intended to give Marlee one of her shirts but the time had never been right. The first time Marlee’d been sharing out new sponsor T-shirts, the next she was being photographed in a pair of runners that cost more than the food bill for a developing nation. ‘I’ll talk to her soon,’ she whispered to Tilly, appealing to her to leave it alone.
But Tilly was in no mood to be trifled with. ‘Oh pleeeeease. You can at least give her a shirt.’ Tilly stomped into the tent. ‘Ah, how nice to be able to walk around in my own bedroom.’ Marlee’s shoulders sunk a little lower as she sat staring at the fire, waiting for Tilly’s mood to burn itself out. ‘Here it is!’
Tilly burst out of the tent and Marlee registered the anxiety on Pink’s face before turning around to see Tilly holding a T-shirt, in her favourite shade of blue, with Surf Sisters spelled out across the front in funky lettering.
‘It’s just a sample,’ Pink said apologetically. ‘Nothing like all the pro stuff you’re getting.’
Tilly threw it at Marlee. ‘Pink wants you to wear it.’ Marlee, surprised, pointed to herself. ‘Ten out of ten, Marlee. You’ve located yourself in one go. So, put it on, let’s see if it fits,’ ordered Tilly.
‘This is going to be my new brand, Marlee,’ Pink explained. ‘What do you think?’ Then she added, a little shy, ‘Will you wear it?’
Marlee plucked the shirt out of Tilly’s hand and wriggled into it. ‘Course I will, you eejit. Why wouldn’t I? Have you got one for grumpy Griselda here so we can all wear them to the next check-in?’
Pink nodded and rummaged in her bag.
‘Perfect fit!’ Tilly admired her white shirt with blue lettering. ‘Come on,’ she said, her bad mood lifting. ‘Get yours on, Pink. We’ll go and stand in front of the cameras for a bit.’
Tilly ran ahead but Pink waited, turning to Marlee. ‘I’m not really sure how to say this …’ She hesitated. ‘So I’ll just blurt it out in my usual fashion. You know I’ve talked about starting up my own label, well I’ve worked out how I can pull it all together and I wondered if you, well …’ She hesitated again. ‘Well …’
‘Just say it, Pink. I don’t bite.’ Marlee smiled, a reassuring hand on Pink’s back.
‘I know you’ve had other offers but will you think about being a part of my label? I don’t have a lot of money yet but if I know you’re interested it’d help. Will you think about it?’
‘Come on, you two!’ Tilly yelled from near the beach. ‘Hurry up!’
‘Let’s go. I promise I’ll think about it, Pink. And thanks.’ Marlee smiled at Pink gratefully. ‘Thanks for everything. You’re a great friend.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It was the morning of the contest, and even though her eyes were closed Marlee could sense the day gathering strength, the change of shift in the animal kingdom from night crickets to the soft dawn carol of magpies and, behind that, the ceaseless rumble of waves. The whirring of her stomach had woken her on and off throughout the night and it kicked in again, forcing her to dash across the quiet camping ground to the women’s toilets.
She re-emerged fifteen minutes later, shivering in her fluffy pjs as she made her way across to their tent, nearly tripping over a body lying in front. It was Kyle! Was he real, or had she thought of him so often that he’d finally turned into a hologram? She knelt down, touched the curly tangled hair, his face soft with sleep, then poked him hard in the ribs.
Kyle jerked awake and, on seeing Marlee, dived at her, rolling her onto the wet grass. Marlee shrieked, laughing, caught out. ‘You sneaking up on me?’ he asked, smiling.
‘Hardly sneaking up. I thought you were a doormat. Weren’t you going to Bali? And how’d you know where to find us?’ Feeling cold and a little foolish in her pyjamas, Marlee wrapped herself in her towel. ‘You didn’t sleep here all night, did you? I’m sure you weren’t here when I came out of the tent.’
‘You ask too many questions. First, I am going to Bali but when I heard about the draw I decided to come here on the way. Second, I found you because you have a billboard next to your tent.’ He jerked his head towards the Island Breeze banner. ‘And third, we drove non-stop except to swap drivers and I got here ten minutes ago, long enough to lie down and fall asleep.’ He shivered. ‘Brrr, how about sharing that towel?’
Marlee flicked a match under some kindling and got the fire going. They huddled together under the towel watching the flame build. ‘So what really made you decide to come?’
Kyle pointed at her pyjamas. ‘Not to see those, that’s for sure.’ He peered at her leg. ‘Are they really giraffes?’
Marlee giggled. ‘Mum gave them to me before I left.’
‘I came for you, stupid. I came to see you win.’
His gaze was intense and Marlee laughed, uncertain. ‘Yeah right.’ She nodded towards the rest of the camping ground now stirring. ‘You’d be the only one who thinks that.’
Kyle unlaced his shoes, easing his feet near the fire. ‘Why wouldn’t I? You can hassle for a wave with the best of ‘em.’
‘Yeah, I have you to thank for that!’
Kyle smiled, toes wriggling in the fire’s heat. ‘Didn’t think you’d noticed!’
‘You kidding? I practically had to fight you for every wave I caught this winter.’
‘Mmmm.’ He leaned against her. ‘And it was fun, wasn’t it?’ His eyes connected with hers and Marlee, remembering the soft summer kisses, touched her lips.
The fire popped and spat, sparks eddying upwards, and Marlee snapped back to the present. She dropped her head into her hands. ‘Oh no.’
‘What? What’s wrong?’
‘You! It’s been so hard staying away from you but I managed it for months and now you’re here and my attention span has been completely shot in the space of ten minutes.’
Kyle beamed. ‘Yeah?’ He stared at her for a moment, then yawned. ‘C’mon, let’s get in the water. I need to wake up.’
‘No. I can’t. Tilly’s heat’s up first and I need to eat, do my relaxation and …’ She stopped, mouth open, then exhaled. ‘I’m really nervous, sorry.’
Kyle put his arm around her and Marlee rested her head on his shoulder. ‘You are going to be amazing.’ He kissed her nose and got to his feet. ‘How about I
go for a surf and you do what you need to do. When I get back, I’ll give you a hand, with whatever.’ He took a few steps backwards, his arm outstretched. ‘Whatever you need help with, I’m yours.’ He bowed, gave her a farewell smile, then ran back to the car to collect his board.
Marlee threw on another sweater and settled herself back down by the fire, forcing herself to breathe in and out steadily even though she jumped at every small noise, her mind and body racing, until gradually she felt a calmness wash over her.
‘I dreamed I heard Kyle’s voice this morning,’ said Tilly, emerging from the tent twenty minutes later.
Marlee rolled her eyes. ‘That’s cos you did hear him.’
‘He’s here?’ Marlee nodded and Tilly looked around hopefully. ‘Did Jamie come too?’
‘Don’t think so. Sorry.’
‘It’s probably for the best,’ said Tilly, crestfallen. ‘Where’s Kyle?’
‘In the water.’
‘Didn’t you want to go with him for a warm-up?’
‘No.’ Marlee got to her feet and started running through her stretches. ‘I was waiting for you. Ready?’
Even though it was just past dawn the beach was full of people and action. Caterers were setting up hot boxes with eggs, bacon, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms, omelettes, corn fritters, juices and cereal. The contest director was assessing the surfing conditions, technicians were doing sound checks in the judge’s tent and the cameraman was busy setting up his camera.
The surf was dotted with other contestants warming up, and as Marlee and Tilly strode into the water together, Tilly was unable to contain her excitement. ‘I love the buzz of contest day. Let’s get out there and hustle. Doesn’t hurt to shake everyone up a bit.’
Skimming her board across the shallow water, Marlee glanced back at the commotion on the beach. Georgie Starr was standing on the deck of the contest tent eating breakfast, her plate piled high with food. She paused, put her plate down to sign autographs, then turned her attention back to the water. Marlee watched her for a moment then forced herself to turn back to the surf, focusing on the waves.
Tilly had already pitched herself onto a wave, a perfect little right. Her scream carried up the beach and Fizz sat upright on her board clapping. ‘You’ve got it! You are going to kill it today!’
Tilly, kicked off the wave, pumping the air, then paddled across to meet Marlee. ‘I have such an amazing feeling about today. If I can keep surfing like I am now, I’m going to kick Tia Marzo right back to Brazil!’
Her confidence made Marlee smile. ‘I’m going to get six waves and then go for the biggest breakfast I can eat. You in?’
‘Deal.’
Marlee, Kyle and Pink sat on the dune where they had a full view of the beach and water. They could see Tilly standing by the shore, kicking her feet out in front of her, waving to a friend nearby. She looked calm and full of confidence.
The wind was heavy, gusting in all directions, making the surf unpredictable, even dangerous. The waves rolled in with a hollow sucking sound. As soon as the five-minute hooter went Tilly paddled out strongly, head down against the howling wind, waiting for the announcer to count her into the heat. She’d picked out her line to the break she was planning to surf and when the heat started she was well in position, looking for her first wave.
‘She looks really confident,’ Pink said. ‘That’s a good start.’
The first wave rolled through and Tilly was on it for an express ride to shore. She dropped down the broad face of the wave, back knee touching the wax, her left hand dragging through the water, acting like a brake, slowing her enough to take her into the turn. Tilly’s board shifted direction and she soared upwards, her body completely in sync with the rhythm of the water flowing beneath her. She flicked off, pumping the air to register her delight, then paddled back out.
‘Check Tia Marzo out!’ Marlee pointed to Tilly’s opponent in the red vest. She was watching Tilly’s every move like a hawk.
‘It’s an 8 and an excellent start,’ said the commentator, ‘and if Tilly Hoye keeps this up she’s going to blow the pro out of the water. Ah,’ he said happily, ‘I love a good upset early in the contest.’
But Tia Marzo was on the move. She sprinted swiftly across to Tilly, sticking to her like a fly, her board close enough to touch Tilly’s. She tagged her every move, paddling this way, turning that, tapping her feet, their boards almost clashing. Rattled, Tilly took a wave to escape the harassment from the other girl and as soon as she jumped to her feet she realised she’d been forced to take a wave that would only score her two points at best.
After two lacklustre turns the wave churned in all directions, leaving her nowhere to go. She flicked off in time to see Tia Marzo pick off the best wave of the set, ripping with a series of perfectly executed turns. Tilly cursed herself roundly, her rhythm shot. She paddled back to where the sets were coming through, annoyed that she’d let Tia Marzo psych her out, her concentration and confidence torn wide open.
When Tia Marzo paddled back out, Tilly was still waiting for a wave. The other girl approached, singing loudly, and Tilly glowered at her, then turned away. ‘Ah, you youngsters,’ the older girl said casually, ‘you get distracted so easily.’ Tilly ignored her, taking a wave, attempting to regain her earlier form, but her selection was out and the wave, unpredictable and powerful, sucked up off the reef and closed over the top of her.
By now, Tia Marzo had caught another three waves and Tilly fumed as she paddled back out. With only five minutes left in the heat, she stood very little chance of catching up, and instead of using her anger to motivate her, it became an even bigger distraction and Marlee, Pink and Kyle watched in dismay as she fell off the next two waves.
When the hooter blew, Tilly dropped flat on her board, folded her hands over the nose and rode it as close as she could into shore. The man on the deck swung his camera around, picking up every unforgiving line on her face, the frown lines across her forehead, the tightly pursed lips, the hard eyes cored with disappointment that, for her, the contest was already over.
She forced herself to shake hands with Tia Marzo then made her way up the beach avoiding her teammates, eyes fixed straight ahead to avoid any eye contact. She scooped up her towel and walked back along the beach, oblivious to the cicadas hammering like power drills as a little movie of her loss replayed inside her head. She’d underestimated Tia Marzo in every way. She threw her board carelessly on the grass and struggled out of her wetsuit, yelling in frustration when it caught on her legs. She flung it behind her, then crawled, wet, into her sleeping bag, pulling it up over her head.
An hour later Pink peered through the flaps into the soft green light of the tent. ‘I know you’re not asleep.’
‘So?’ Tilly kept her eyes closed.
‘Tilly, don’t beat yourself up.’
Tilly sat up. ‘But I surfed crap. I could have won that heat. And now I’m out. It’s over.’
‘You started off great. You just fell for the oldest trick in the book played by one of the best in the world. So what if you lost? Remember all that stuff we talked about?’
Tilly rolled onto her stomach. ‘Yeah, right,’ she said wearily. ‘Tomorrow I will – but right now, Pink, I’m pissed off. I just need some time alone. Sorry.’
‘Too bad,’ said Pink, pulling at Tilly’s sleeping bag. ‘Marlee’s heat’s on soon and she needs your support. You can sulk later.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Two different clocks were running inside Marlee’s body: one operated in dream time where no sound could penetrate. Half an hour before her heat she worked slowly through her stretches, stared at the grains of sand stuck in her block of wax, then shaved it methodically across the deck of her board in long, sweeping strokes while she absorbed the minute details of the water and its secrets.
And then there was the other clock. Cogs spinning fast. Driving her body. Directing her thoughts. Catching moments – a burst of sunshine through clouds, her quick, punch
y steps to the competitors’ tent, eyes darting everywhere but resting on nothing, over to Georgie Starr, to the massage table, the scoreboard, the waves, back to Georgie already in her wetsuit, headphones on, warming up.
The two rhythms spun in her body, one amping her up, the other holding her down. She jogged down to the marshalling area as the contestants for the next heat went out, feeling Georgie’s stare drilling into her back as she followed a few steps behind.
‘Nervous?’ Georgie Starr attached her leg rope. Marlee smiled but didn’t answer. Georgie looked super fit and confident but she’d only arrived at the contest just before the press conference, having flown overnight from Hawaii. If she was tired, she didn’t show it and as Marlee watched her opponent appraise the conditions, her keen eyes absorbing details, she hoped Georgie hadn’t spotted her little bank further down the beach.
She smiled at Marlee. ‘So, see you out there.’ Georgie held her board loosely by the tail, floating it in front of her until she was waist-high in the breakers, then dived under an incoming wave and paddled straight ahead.
Marlee took a few deep, slow breaths, opening her chest wide, filling herself with good thoughts, visualising wave after wave and herself, light-footed and free, on each one, flowing in time with the water. Her head began to clear. The two clocks had merged into one.
The moment had come and she was ready.
The waves were an icy green, their peaks clear as glass, and Marlee ran her eyes over each ripple one last time. In between her and that break nothing existed. No crowd. No commentary. No roar of foam. Just the freakish silence of being underwater, hearing the world like a fish.
She took another deep breath, listening to the thudding of her heart, feeling the energy buzzing around her body, then skimmed her board over the shallows, landing lightly on top, and streaking through the water, south, away from her opponent.
There was a discernible buzz among the crowd. Tilly’s near upset had gained their attention and now, as the world champ and a novice took to the water, there was an unmistakable air of anticipation rippling along the beach.
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