Raw Blue by Kirsty Eagar Page B

to climb at the moment, so instead I sit and wait for the shower to come to me.
    Hannah starts picking at the acne along her jawline, staring off into the distance. She has acne on her back and chest as well. It’s not horrible or anything, it’s just there. If I had to put money on a cause I’d say it’s some sort of reaction to the amount of dairy food she consumes. Hannah lives on cheese and yoghurt. She says all Dutch love their dairy products. Or it might be from too much caffeine: she drinks a lot of tea. Milky tea.
    ‘You know,’ she says, ‘Joost left a message on my answering machine tonight. It was there when I got home from work.’
    ‘Is everything all right?’
    ‘Not really. He’s upset. He wanted to know if I was seeing other people over here. He said that he was very unhappy. He said a lot of things, you know, making me feel very guilty.’
    ‘Did you ring him back?’
    ‘No. I think I have to be strong.’
    ‘Do you know what you want to do? I mean, with Joost?’
    ‘No. Sometimes I think I want a divorce, I want to live my own life. And sometimes I feel very lonely. My colleagues at work, they say such horrible things. They are so threatened by me, I think. And living in another country can be hard. Although it’s good that you are downstairs from me. That I have a Cookie around.’
    She smiles and I wonder what benefit I could possibly be to anybody.
    ‘Don’t worry about Joost.’
    ‘But he hates me.’
    ‘I think men always hate women, underneath it all.’
    ‘But no –’
    ‘No, I think they do. Really. Maybe we’re just as scary to them as they are to us.’
    Hannah looks truly puzzled. ‘But are you scared of men, Cookie?’
    I shake my head quickly, but my throat feels tight. ‘No, I was just … It’s just something I think sometimes, that’s all.’

9
    Surf porn
Coastalwatch
Swell size 0.5 metre – Swell direction NE
Pristine conditions today. No wind, the sand banks are good and it’s a peaky 1–2ft. If there was some decent swell around it’d be on. Small but highly surfable at exposed swell locations …
    The back car park is empty and the lagoon’s settled into a syrupy torpor. While I’m getting changed I can hear fish jumping, slapping the tea-stained water. God, it’s hot. I run over the dune, sand burning the soles of my feet, looking down at my knees. My skin’s the colour of a roasted nut. I’ve changed so much since I’ve been here. Now, when I catch sight of myself in the mirrored doors of my bedroom wardrobe, I’m startled by the stranger looking back at me. Hair dried out by the sun, skin stained brown by it. Triceps that are hard knobs of muscle. If I hold out my arms, my lat muscles make my chest widen like a fan. I’m becoming someone else, and I like it.
    The beach is empty save for a man and a woman walking towards the headland and the clump of surfers at the Alley. A lifesaver is setting up for the day, driving a four-wheeler down to mark out the flags.
    There are patches of lighter blue pooled on the ocean’s surface like oil slicks. And there’s swell. Easy, two-foot waves peel left and right with clean precision. The swell is a bonus, really, because I thought the high pressure system would settle on the ocean like a blanket. What’s more, there aren’t too many bodies out there. Maybe everybody else slept in.
    Conditions are so clean that duck diving is like slicing butter with a hot knife. The crows are all out and they’re exclaiming about it: Aw, W.D., mate, good to see ya! It’s a faarken’ reunion, eh?
    There’s a new guy too, a fresh-faced twenty-something on a purple malibu. He’s hassling people like mad and I’m thinking he should be careful doing that. Doesn’t he know about this place? Didn’t he notice the broken board that’s been jammed onto the pole near the lifesavers’ building as a warning? Someone’s spray-painted ‘No Mal Zone’ on one of the signs in the top car park. When I first saw that I thought