do the steak. There’s pots and pans, and in a box I discover stuff like tomato sauce, pepper, salt, jam, peanut butter and some herbs in little jars. I tidy up the van, check my washing which isn’t dry, then take a walk across the caravan park to the sand dunes. Over the dunes is the sea. I breathe salty air and walk along the shore. The tide’s way out and there’s pretty shells and a piece of pink coral, still damp from the sea. I know enough about surfing to realise the waves aren’t very good here so the guys have probably gone further along the coast. I sit relaxing andfeeling calm. At some stage I’ll have to call home. Not for a while yet. The gulls wheel and cry overhead and I watch them for a long time, so liberated, no hassles except for catching the occasional fish. It must be wonderful to fly free like that. The sun begins to sink into the sea and I decide I’d better get back and start preparing our meal. I’m starving hungry again; it must be the fresh air.
I make a tossed salad with the lettuce, tomatoes, peppers and cucumber. I heat the griller like I’ve seen Mum do, and cut up the fruit for a fruit salad. I should’ve bought cream or ice-cream, I’m thinking, as I put the rolls and margarine onto the table. I hear a car coming and then the motor cuts out. Doors slam as I put the steaks under the griller. Voices. The thump of surfboards against the van. The door opens and Nathan pokes his head in and sniffs.
‘Yum.’
Rick and Mattie follow. They’ve had a rad day, great surf, and they’re starving hungry. They start on the bread rolls while I turn the steaks over. Then they’re ready and we eat. The dozen rolls and steaks and salad disappear fast. So does the fruit salad. And they’re still hungry so I bring out the loaf of bread and the cheese and they get stuck into that. They talk about tubes and tunnels and funnelling out and drops and filthy surf until my head spins. It’s worse than being with Sam.
I must be looking bored.
‘Want to come with us tomorrow?’ Nathan says.
Mattie looks annoyed. His red hair’s all spiky with salt and his nose is already peeling; he looks like an angry tomato. Rick doesn’t look too thrilled either. He sweeps his dark hair out of his eyes and looks edgy. For them it’s okay if I stay at the van and clean and cook but those two don’t want me tagging along spoiling their fun.
‘I’d rather stay here,’ I say quickly, and they look relieved.
‘In that case, you’re ringing your family,’ says Nathan.
‘I will soon.’
‘Now. I’ll drive you to the phone box.’
‘No. I’m not … ready.’
‘You’re as ready as you’ll ever be.’
‘No.’
‘You phone now or you’re outa here.’
I’m stunned. I face him angrily, hands on hips. He looks grim. I glance at the others. Mattie looks down, picks up a scrap of bread and wipes his plate. Rick looks scornful.
‘Selfish little creep aren’t you?’ Rick says. ‘Couldn’t give a dog’s breath whether your family’s worried sick about you.’
‘You don’t understand …’
‘No. You don’t understand. The worst thing in the worldis not knowing if someone’s alive or dead. It’s a living hell.’
He gets up from the table and storms off outside.
‘His girlfriend disappeared three years ago without a trace,’ says Nathan quietly.
‘Yeah? Well, that’s his problem, not mine.’
‘I can’t believe you just said that,’ says Nathan, turning away from me. Mattie makes this snorting noise.
‘Okay, okay,’ I feel awful. ‘I’ll ring.’
But it’s too late to take the words back; Nathan walks me to the phone box and although I try to make conversation he won’t answer. He just keeps plodding along beside me like he wishes I’d vaporise off the planet.
‘I’m sorry,’ I grab at his sleeve. ‘If I could take that back I would. I didn’t mean it.’
Nathan stops.
‘You need to start thinking before you put that snappy tongue of yours into first
I make a tossed salad with the lettuce, tomatoes, peppers and cucumber. I heat the griller like I’ve seen Mum do, and cut up the fruit for a fruit salad. I should’ve bought cream or ice-cream, I’m thinking, as I put the rolls and margarine onto the table. I hear a car coming and then the motor cuts out. Doors slam as I put the steaks under the griller. Voices. The thump of surfboards against the van. The door opens and Nathan pokes his head in and sniffs.
‘Yum.’
Rick and Mattie follow. They’ve had a rad day, great surf, and they’re starving hungry. They start on the bread rolls while I turn the steaks over. Then they’re ready and we eat. The dozen rolls and steaks and salad disappear fast. So does the fruit salad. And they’re still hungry so I bring out the loaf of bread and the cheese and they get stuck into that. They talk about tubes and tunnels and funnelling out and drops and filthy surf until my head spins. It’s worse than being with Sam.
I must be looking bored.
‘Want to come with us tomorrow?’ Nathan says.
Mattie looks annoyed. His red hair’s all spiky with salt and his nose is already peeling; he looks like an angry tomato. Rick doesn’t look too thrilled either. He sweeps his dark hair out of his eyes and looks edgy. For them it’s okay if I stay at the van and clean and cook but those two don’t want me tagging along spoiling their fun.
‘I’d rather stay here,’ I say quickly, and they look relieved.
‘In that case, you’re ringing your family,’ says Nathan.
‘I will soon.’
‘Now. I’ll drive you to the phone box.’
‘No. I’m not … ready.’
‘You’re as ready as you’ll ever be.’
‘No.’
‘You phone now or you’re outa here.’
I’m stunned. I face him angrily, hands on hips. He looks grim. I glance at the others. Mattie looks down, picks up a scrap of bread and wipes his plate. Rick looks scornful.
‘Selfish little creep aren’t you?’ Rick says. ‘Couldn’t give a dog’s breath whether your family’s worried sick about you.’
‘You don’t understand …’
‘No. You don’t understand. The worst thing in the worldis not knowing if someone’s alive or dead. It’s a living hell.’
He gets up from the table and storms off outside.
‘His girlfriend disappeared three years ago without a trace,’ says Nathan quietly.
‘Yeah? Well, that’s his problem, not mine.’
‘I can’t believe you just said that,’ says Nathan, turning away from me. Mattie makes this snorting noise.
‘Okay, okay,’ I feel awful. ‘I’ll ring.’
But it’s too late to take the words back; Nathan walks me to the phone box and although I try to make conversation he won’t answer. He just keeps plodding along beside me like he wishes I’d vaporise off the planet.
‘I’m sorry,’ I grab at his sleeve. ‘If I could take that back I would. I didn’t mean it.’
Nathan stops.
‘You need to start thinking before you put that snappy tongue of yours into first
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