Chapter 28
James: Surf’s Up
It was always going to feel odd watching Amy go off on a hen weekend while I didn’t have any plans.
Normally I’d have been going on the stag do while Amy was on a hen weekend.
I always got on well with Amy’s friends and their other halves.
But it’s been even harder than I’d expected, just watching her remotely like a jealous, possessive partner, wishing I was the one meeting her on a canal, going to the pub with her.
And all the time, knowing I should be wanting her to find someone else.
The hen weekend was never likely to be a raucous affair.
After all, it was half a dozen ladies, some of them pensioners, on a canal boat.
The original plan The Boss had come up with was all set to work, with my mum roping Amy in to help with the WI event.
There was going to be plenty of talent there, with a group of young men from the local rugby team.
And then Olive went and scuppered it all by coming up with the idea of having this floating hen weekend.
And not somewhere buzzy like Dublin or Paris, where Amy might have met someone on a river cruise along the Liffey or the Seine.
No, cooped up on a canal boat in the middle of Gloucestershire.
I’m beginning to see what The Boss means about free will.
But somehow fate – or maybe The Boss – conspired to have the ladies meet some men against all odds.
And I don’t know exactly what that guy Ravi said to Amy, but clearly they were getting along well, and he seemed to be whispering something to her right before he kissed her.
Okay, so it was just a kiss on the cheek, but it’s a start.
And I’m trying to be happy for her. Yes, really.
Besides, I’ll have plenty of time to get my head round the idea of her being with someone else because I’ve got a quiet week ahead.
For once, I’ve got nothing major planned.
I’m going to play around with a couple of new bike designs over the next few days, and maybe call over to see my gran.
And I can take a quick look now and again at what Amy’s up to.
Might do that right now, come to think of it.
Sunday morning, and I’m guessing she’ll be having a lie in.
Actually, it looks like she’s just waking up.
But now the doorbell’s ringing. I wasn’t expecting anyone.
‘Hey Andy!’
Andy looks like he’s all set for a day at the beach.
‘Come on, grab your stuff!’ he commands.
‘Grab what stuff?’
‘Whatever you need for a couple of nights away. We’re going surfing.’
‘Surfing?’
‘Yeah, you know, big board, catching waves, generally having a cool time.’
I used to love surfing, but I haven’t been since I got here, and for some reason I don’t much feel like going.
‘But I don’t have a board, or a wetsuit for that matter,’ I argue.
‘Don’t sweat, mate. It’s all in the van. Like the good boy scout that I am – or was – I’ve come prepared.’ As usual, Andy has an answer for everything.
I look out of the window and there’s a brand new campervan outside, with surfboards neatly stacked on it.
‘Come on, James. It’ll be a laugh. We’re all going, Luke, Maia, some of Maia’s friends. Talia’s going to be there.’
I’m about to come up with an argument against going when he notices I’ve got the phone viewer on Amy’s boat trip.
‘Ah, man. You cannot spend all your life watching Amy. Enough’s enough.’ And he grabs my phone, pockets it and marches into my bedroom. He rummages swiftly through drawers, pulling out shorts, t-shirts and a couple of hoodies.
‘Guess you’ll want these?’ he says with a cheeky smile as he picks up my Ray-Bans.
And next he’s frogmarching me out of the house and into the van.
When we get to the coast I get a real sense of déjà vu.
I just can’t think where this place reminds me of.
But before I get a chance to mull it over, I get distracted by the unexpected arrival of Gabe.
He is such a character – so eager to try new things, but always concerned whether The Boss will approve.
Like now, he’s asking tonnes of questions about surfing and the technical sides to it, and I can tell he’s desperate to have a go, but he’s holding back.
Secretly I think Gabe is a bit of an adrenaline junkie, which is a real shame, because there’s not much to trigger adrenaline up here.
The main risk up here is just displeasing The Boss.
Although, perhaps that could be pretty bad.
Hard to say. He seems so laid back. But who knows what he might do if he got really annoyed.
Anyway, it’s a risk I’m determined to convince Gabe to take – and worst case, if The Boss is mad, I’ll take the bullet, tell him it was my fault for persuading Gabe.
‘Go on, Gabe. What have you got to lose?’
‘My dignity, I imagine,’ he replies. But I can tell he’s wavering.
‘Here, go and get this on.’ Andy tosses him a wetsuit.
Gabe heads off into the changing cubicles at the top end of the beach. After a couple of minutes he calls out, ‘I believe you have mistaken the size I require. This garment is far too small.’
‘Nah, you’re good, mate,’ replies Andy. ‘That one’s spot on. Wetsuits are meant to be tight. If you don’t have that snug fit, you won’t stay warm.’
‘But I simply cannot fit into this. I sincerely believe there has been a mistake.’
‘That’s just wetsuits for you, Gabe,’ I call. ‘It might feel uncomfortable when you’re not used to squeezing into one, but keep trying. Andy’s right, you need it to be tight. You don’t want loads of water sloshing around inside it.’
‘Yeah, and that’s a dry one. You wait till you try putting on a wet wetsuit,’ adds Andy.
‘Do you truly mean to say that it could be worse than this? Surely you are not being sincere?’ Gabe sounds horrified.
After a few minutes of huffing and puffing, Gabe finally emerges from the cubicle.
He’s got the wetsuit on the wrong way round, with the zip at the front, but I really don’t have the heart to tell him, and I give Andy a ‘don’t you dare mention the wetsuit’s back-to-front’ look.
Andy manages to stifle a burst of laughter, and we get on with the job of teaching Gabe the basics of surfing.
‘And tell me, what is this?’ Gabe has picked up the pot of Sex Wax.
‘What?’ Andy looks round. ‘Oh, that, yeah, you’ll need that.’
‘Are you certain?’
‘Dead sure,’ nods Andy.
‘I remain unconvinced. I do not think I could possibly have any need for that.’
‘Oh, you will, you will absolutely need that, mate,’ I chip in.
‘But we archangels, we couldn’t possibly have any call for—’
‘You apply it to the top of the surfboard – it’ll give you more grip,’ I add.
‘Ah. I see.’ He’s still examining the pot and its contents curiously.
‘So, exactly what did you think it was for, Gabe?’ teases Andy.
‘Err, well…,’ Gabe’s face turns a deep shade of red.
Poor Gabe, he’s still not got used to our banter. And, unluckily for him, his childlike innocence can make him an easy target.
‘Come on, surf’s calling. The others are all in there already,’ I call, trying to spare him any further embarrassment.
Plus, I want to get Gabe into the water before he thinks up any more reasons to duck out of surfing.
We grab the boards and head down to the beach, and that’s when it strikes me.
This place is just like Australia’s Gold Coast. I went with the boys a few years back, before I met Amy, and it’s fabulous.
Amy and I didn’t have time to fly up there when we were in Sydney, but I had promised I’d take her to the Gold Coast some day.
So now it’s just another in a string of broken promises, because I ended up here instead.
And as I stride into the crashing waves, I feel the saltwater making my eyes sting.