Surf Sisters Page 4

  ‘Okay.’ Tilly deflated. ‘Where’re you going?’

  ‘Pink wants some help with her home economics homework. Sorry, Til – she asked me days ago and I forgot it was the day you got home.’

  ‘Homework? Pink?’ Tilly laughed, trying to ignore the fact that Jamie had forgotten she was coming home. ‘Since when?’

  ‘Since she got home. You know she’s moved back, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, she texted me. Said she’s got a job too.’

  ‘Yep, at the hardware store,’ said Jamie.

  A snake turned in Tilly’s belly. She’s had longer shopping trips than jobs, Tilly thought. ‘Well good for her,’ she said quietly.

  If Jamie noticed a sour tone in Tilly’s voice, he didn’t show it. ‘And Pink’s sticking it out, too, even though her mother’s not so happy about it,’ he said, with a note of pride. ‘She’s changed, grown up a bit or something. She’s nicer.’

  Tilly held her hands up in front of Jamie to stop him saying anything else. ‘Hang on a minute. Jamie …’ She peered into his eyes, hands cupping his face. ‘Tell your old friend Tilly here that you haven’t fallen for Pink AGAIN!’

  Jamie looked slightly uncomfortable and dropped his gaze.

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ Tilly joked, taking a step back, smacking her hands against her thighs. ‘After the way she treated you last summer? When there are millions of girls out there who’d go out with you like that!’ She clicked her fingers.

  Jamie raised an eyebrow, cocked his head on one side and grinned. Tilly swallowed, afraid to speak. ‘Millions?’

  ‘Well, slight exaggeration,’ she said, gathering up her towel.

  Jamie’s gaze drifted over to the surf. He looked back at her, shaking his head, still grinning. ‘Til, you’re too black and white. Sometimes you have to forgive and forget.’ He put his arm around her. ‘Thanks though.’

  ‘For what?’ she asked, folding the towel and holding it between them.

  ‘For looking out for me. I know what you’re trying to do but I can take care of myself. I promise I’ll look out for you too.’

  Tilly felt her anger defuse. She looked into Jamie’s brown eyes for a hint of mockery or teasing but found only sincerity. ‘You’re both my friends, and I’m happy for you, both of you – but I’d hate to see you get hurt again,’ she said gently.

  Jamie nodded. ‘I know and I won’t. It’s different this time.’ He leaned against the railing. ‘I’d like to ask her out. I think!’ He laughed. ‘I’m not sure yet. But we’ll still hang out like we always have, won’t we?’

  Tilly tried to smile. ‘Will Pink be okay with that? If you do decide to ask her out she might not feel right about that.’

  Jamie laughed. ‘Of course she’ll be fine. Everyone knows how it is with you and me. Nothing’s ever going to change that.’

  Tilly blinked to stem an embarrassing and unwanted rush of tears. She glanced at her watch. ‘I’d better go too,’ she lied. ‘I promised Dad I’d go down to the School and collect the cash box.’ She edged towards the door, glancing back to say, ‘Thanks for stopping by,’ then rushed into her bedroom, leaning against the closed door. She looked at the tiny shells stuck around the edge of her mirror, and the hats covering the trophies lined up erratically along the shelf, then threw herself onto her bed, shoving her face into her Little Mermaid pillow case until she heard the click-click of Marnie’s paws fading down the steps.

  When it was silent she wandered around the house, her mind in turmoil while her eyes took in the subtle changes. The kitchen was immaculate, the benches shone, the fridge sparkled, new yellow washing-up gloves lay neatly beside the sink. Barb Cook had been here cleaning. She just knew it. Cleaning their dirt. How dare she do that? It’s not like she’s even a mother.

  This was not the homecoming she’d been dreaming about.

  Marlee lined her piggy banks up on the bed. There was a fluffy pink pig that used to walk and oink when you fed it money, a plastic phone, a boring tin replica of a bank and a candy-striped tin she’d forgotten about at the back of her wardrobe. They sat before her like naughty children, refusing to tell their secrets.

  Methodically she opened each one, disgorging a collection of change from the tins and a twenty-dollar note from the plastic phone, along with some paperclips and jigsaw pieces she’d ‘posted’ years ago. ‘Sorry,’ she said to the pig before knocking a hole in his head and tipping out the money. All up she counted fifty dollars which, added to her winnings, made five hundred and fifty dollars.

  She weighed up her options; Jordie might give her a bit of work in the shop and she’d already asked about another pamphlet run. But even if she worked every day after school and on weekends, she doubted that she’d be able to train and earn enough money for the trip to Western Australia, even though she was unsure how much that’d be. She’d insist on Phil taking money for petrol this time and then there’d be food and accommodation. She put the money into one container, gathered the shattered pig and other money boxes, and took them inside to the bin.

  ‘Hi, Mum – hey guess what? I’ve been invited to a surfing contest with Island Breeze.’

  Trish straightened up and smiled. ‘Well done, Marlee, that’s great.’ She gathered several bills towards her, separating out the envelopes. ‘It doesn’t mean more time off school, does it? You’ve had a lot of time off already this year.’

  ‘No. It’s in the October holidays.’ Marlee hesitated. ‘But, Mum, the contest is in Western Australia and it’ll cost a bit to get there. Do you think … is there any chance you could help me with the costs? I’ll get another job but I’m not sure if that’ll cover everything. I promise I’ll pay you back,’ she added hastily, when her mother didn’t respond straightaway.

  Trish slumped back in her seat, her hand crushing the envelopes. ‘It’s not that, Marlee. I know you’d pay me back and I’d give it to you if I could, but I don’t have it. It’s a bit tight at the moment.’

  How many times had they had this conversation and how many times had it ended the same way? Marlee wrenched open the fridge door, irritated by the same old line-up of veggies and leftovers they’d be eating until the end of the week, then slammed the door in frustration. Why did everything have to be so difficult? She didn’t mind working hard for her surfing, but no matter which way she turned it was always a struggle.

  ‘You don’t need to take it out on the fridge door,’ her mother said.

  ‘Well why not?’ Marlee snapped, disappointed. ‘You never have any money. I hardly ever ask you for anything. Ever. It’s because it’s for surfing, isn’t it? If Carly asked you for a book I bet you’d find the money for that.’

  ‘Marlee …’ Her mother pushed the mail across the table. ‘These are all bills. What would you like us to miss out on this month? Food? Lights? Hot showers, maybe, or how about no phone? It’s not a case of never giving you anything. I give you everything I have.’

  ‘You give me everything except encouragement,’ muttered Marlee bitterly. But the tears welling in her mother’s eyes stopped her short.

  ‘Surfing might be your dream,’ said Trish, ‘but it has never been mine. Jack never appreciated the sacrifices I made for him and sometimes, Marlee, you have the same self-absorbed attitude to life as your father.’

  Marlee yelled, ‘I do not! And I don’t ever want to be like him!’ She kicked open the flyscreen door and stormed back to her bedroom. Before she had time to regret it, she gathered her iPod and mobile phone and cycled down to Cash Converters.

  The last message Marlee received before selling her iPod and phone was from Tilly, and as soon as she’d pocketed the money she belted down the bike path along the beach at a blistering pace.

  All the lights were off at Tilly’s and Marlee picked her way through the darkened backyard to her friend’s bedroom, reaching up to tap the glass. When Tilly appeared, Marlee pointed to the front door.

  ‘Got your message. You okay?’ Marlee asked. ‘What are you doing in your pyjama
s at seven thirty?’

  Arms crossed, Tilly pushed the door back with her bottom so Marlee could come in. ‘May as well. It’s not as if the Welcome Home Committee’s got anything planned.’

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Marlee looked around for Sam and Phil, stumbling over Tilly’s bag.

  ‘Dad’s out with Barb.’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘Sam hasn’t even come home yet and Jamie,’ she sighed, pacing, ‘is at Pink’s place helping her with some homework.’ And then she added, ‘He wants to ask her out.’ She wheeled around to face Marlee, incredulous. ‘He practically asked me if I was okay with that!’ She emphasised her words with outstretched hands. ‘I am SO glad I never said anything. I feel like such an idiot.’

  Marlee smiled sympathetically. ‘Had any dinner?’

  Tilly crossed her arms, resumed pacing. ‘No.’

  ‘So, let’s get something to eat. You going to Shipwreck?’ And when Tilly nodded Marlee screamed, arms in the air. ‘Me too! I can’t believe it. Mitch sent me a wildcard. Let’s go to the noodle bar and celebrate.’

  ‘Nah, I’m broke. Maybe …’

  But Marlee ignored her. She disappeared into Tilly’s room and returned with some clothes. ‘Here. Put these on. My shout for dinner. Forget Jamie. You and I are going to celebrate! Woah, it’s not every day we get invited to an international surfing contest, my friend.’ When Tilly hesitated Marlee added, ‘I’m having the duck pancakes, spring rolls, fried rice, pad thai …’

  Tilly laughed and plucked the clothes out of Marlee’s hand. ‘Give me a sec.’

  ‘Just give the Jamie/Pink thing time,’ Marlee said encouragingly. ‘It’ll sort itself out. They won’t go out forever.’

  ‘You know what? I’m totally fine with it. They’re both my friends. I’m glad they’re happy.’ But if Marlee had seen Tilly’s face, she’d have known that wasn’t true.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘Morning, Pink,’ Rod called. Pink stepped into the warm glow of the shop, closing out the cold, dark winter morning.

  ‘Hi, Rod. Wayne. Fred. Morning, Jim.’ The men nodded, focused on setting up their counters, and Pink wondered if they even went home at night or just folded themselves flat and lay on a shelf until first light the following day.

  Cleaning was an activity that until recently was off the radar for Pink. She’d watched the cleaner do it at home for years, but for her it was a newly acquired skill, and the novelty of making something clean and fresh again was a new sensation. Since cleaning the bathroom from top to bottom, she’d decided to target different areas of the shop, and over the last few weeks had scrubbed away patiently until all the surfaces now shone, the soft hint of lemon wax mingling with the sharper industrial smells of paint and metal. The windows sparkled too, and pretty soon the morning sun would flood the shop with light. The counters had lost their layer of dust and the staff area had been revitalised since she’d kicked the smokers outside and sugar-soaped the walls.

  Pink hummed as she walked around the store, running her finger along the window sills looking for dust. She added a new tick to her job sheet with a sense of satisfaction. It was the first time she’d made a plan and followed it through, doing a small amount each shift, and now people were commenting on the results.

  ‘I’ve put a list out the back for you, love,’ Rod said. ‘Can you work through that this morning?’

  Pink smiled and nodded. ‘Sure thing. Rod, would you mind if I leave an hour early today? I need to get an assignment finished. I can stay later on Saturday.’

  ‘Of course, Jasmine, that’s not a problem. And you don’t need to stay later on Saturday, you’ve more than made up that time already with the extras you do around here.’

  In the kitchen, Tony was leaning against the sink stirring sugar into his black coffee, his shoulders drooped, chest sunk onto his stomach. ‘Morning,’ he said wearily.

  Pink took in the crumpled shirt, buttons done up unevenly, hair tousled, face unshaved. ‘You look rough. Big night last night, was it?’ He nodded. ‘Let me guess, pub?’ He pointed a finger at her, nodding, sipping the coffee.

  ‘Not the club type, huh?’

  ‘Why d’you you say that?’ Tony asked, curious.

  Pink laughed. ‘Look at you! I couldn’t imagine you in a smart club.’

  Tony straightened, miffed. ‘Thanks, but I can scrub up when I have to. For your information, I played in a band last night and we went to the pub afterwards.’

  Pink laughed again. ‘I bet you play the drums.’ Tony shook his head. ‘Guitar?’

  He shook his head again. ‘See, Miss Bossy?’ He drained his coffee, dumping the cup in the sink. ‘You don’t know as much as you think you do.’ He nodded to the table. ‘There’s a present for you from my winnings and if you get lucky, I’ll show you how to use it.’ He picked up his keys. ‘See you. I’m off to do deliveries.’

  ‘Hey, wash your cup up!’ Pink yelled after him. ‘And move your thongs before someone falls over them.’ But Tony didn’t come back. Lying on the table was a long crumpled piece of pink tissue paper that hadn’t been wrapped so much as moulded around a shape. The paper was crushed, torn in spots, with no tape holding it together. It flopped open when Pink turned it over to reveal a hammer, the handle strapped with pink fluffy tape. She chuckled, holding the hammer in her right hand then shifting it to her left.

  Pink wondered who Tony’d been at the pub with and if he had a girlfriend. Of course he’d have a girlfriend, she thought, disappointed. He’s in a band. They all have at least three each. She screwed up the paper, uncovering Tony’s phone and wallet. Pink held the phone for a moment then quickly opened it and added her number. Then she went looking for Rod.

  ‘Rod?’ She held out the wallet and phone. ‘Tony left these behind. Will he be back later or do you want to hold them for him?’

  Rod shoved the wallet into his apron pocket. ‘I’ll take that but leave the phone on the table or it’ll drive me nuts ringing all day.’

  ‘Must have lots of friends,’ said Pink, fishing.

  ‘Yep, girls mainly,’ Rod said. ‘From that music school he goes to. They ring him day and night. There’s always some orchestra practice he has to go to or some show. I don’t know, I lose track, but I don’t know why they can’t just talk to each other while they’re at school.’

  Pink said nothing. She took the phone and put it in the centre of the staff room table and glared at it, daring it to ring, annoyed that so many other girls could call him when she didn’t have that right. She spotted the thongs again, jutting out from under a chair, and stomped out to the shop for two thick nails. Using her new pink hammer, she nailed his thongs to the outside of his locker before going back to work.

  Marlee passed the letter to Tilly, then threw herself backwards on the bed. Tilly read it out loud to Fran and Pink.

  Dear Ms Finn, Thank you for your letter and current résumé. We have given your proposal a lot of consideration and, while we feel that you are a talented surfer, we do have concerns about your maturity and ability to represent our brand in public.

  ‘WHAAAAT!’ said Tilly, outraged. ‘How long are you going to have to wear that one! That is so unfair.’

  She read on. ‘Unfortunately we are fully committed for this season but will follow your progress with interest. We wish you every success in your career. Yours sincerely – ’

  ‘Betty Bumcrack,’ said Pink, ripping the letter out of Tilly’s hands and pinning it to Marlee’s board. She whirled around on Marlee’s bed, laughing. ‘Just you wait till Shipwreck – you’ll both show everyone up!’

  ‘Well let’s hope that Kyle gets delayed for a few more months so you keep focused on your training,’ Fran teased.

  ‘Yeah, boys are bad. I should know,’ said Pink, dipping her finger straight into the tomato sauce and sticking it in her mouth. ‘Stay away from them all! Here’s to us, the girls! Through thick and thin!’ She stood up, lifting her juice and knocking her bag over. The pink hammer fell out.

  �
��What is that?’ Tilly giggled, holding up the hammer. ‘It’s got a pink handle. Is that a joke?’

  ‘Yeah, kinda.’ Pink grinned.

  ‘Is that what happens when you work in a hardware store? You start carrying around a hammer? Are you on a world mission to fix sticky-out nails or something? Has your mum got one too?’ Marlee started laughing so hard she curled over making little snorty noises and then ripped with a tiny fart that sent the others spiralling in all directions holding their stomachs, laughing at her.

  Gradually Marlee’s laughter slowed into long whooping breaths that recommenced each time Pink waved the handle at her. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, not game to look at the hammer anymore. She pointed a finger in its general direction. ‘Tell me what you really do with that thing.’

  ‘Well,’ Pink stopped laughing, ‘I hammer stuff. It’s amazing how many uses you can find for it.’

  ‘Do you like working there?’ asked Tilly.

  ‘You bet – every hot apprentice on the beaches comes in there. Where else would I want to be?’ Pink giggled. ‘Not sure about the plumbers though. I’ve seen enough plumbers’ cracks to last me a lifetime.’ Pink scooped some nachos into her mouth, the soft corn chips mashing with the crisp edges. While her mouth was full, her phone rang. Tilly leaned over to get it and Pink snatched it from her. ‘Mwwemm,’ she mumbled.

  She listened for a moment, chewing madly, then laughed, swallowing hard to get rid of her food. ‘About time you called,’ she giggled. Tilly turned away, slid a DVD into the player and pressed the play button. ‘I’m with friends – say hi!’ Pink held up the phone and everyone except Tilly responded. ‘So did you like my thong joke then?’ Pink asked.

  Tilly dug her in the ribs. ‘Shhh.’ And pointed outside.

  Pink stepped outside and Tilly turned up the volume on the DVD, even though she’d lost track of the film wondering if it was Jamie and what could possibly be funny about Pink wearing a thong.