Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
C hris ran faster once he was clear of the soft sand. The track was well-used and firm under his feet. His skin tingled from the salt water, and although his legs ached as he pushed himself harder, it was a good feeling—an ache that he embraced. He hitched his board tighter under his arm and picked up speed, hoping that Evie would wait for him before she started fishing. Maybe she’d spend the time finding pipis along the beach. There was a competitive streak in her though and he smiled as he ran, thinking she would probably try to catch something big before he returned.
Thank goodness he didn’t have to tag along with his sisters all the time. Now he had a friend. Someone who liked fishing, reading, and the same music he did. A girl who, although younger than him, didn’t seem so. His sisters also included her when they were around. ‘We like her too,’ they had told him. ‘And now you don’t have to hang out with us as much.’
Slowing down as he neared the house where they were staying, he noticed his mother on the front porch. That was not a good sign. She was waiting for him, or maybe Dad. Her face was set in that look that let him know she was in a worse mood than usual.
Slowing to a walk as he approached her, his shoulders sagged and the smile faded from his face.
He couldn’t remember a time when his mother had been happy or agreed with something he said or did. Nothing any of them did seem to please her; and her main priority was that everything was tidy, their clothes picked up, and the house spotless from one end to the other. His father tried to explain to her that these holiday houses were designed so that it didn’t matter if a bit of sand occasionally came in on their feet. ‘It’s a lino floor,’ he told her, the exasperation clear in his tone. ‘You just sweep it. What does it matter?’
But his father’s words were in vain. She argued with everything. At least at home she went to the bridge club, or spent time at craft classes. Here there was nothing to keep her busy. It seemed as though, for the entire week they had been here, she did nothing but clean, nag them to be tidy, and find fault with any little thing she could.
Her voice cut the air. ‘Where’s your father? You two have been gone for ages, and I have no idea where those girls are.’
‘They’ve gone for a walk, and Dad and I were surfing. He’s not far behind me.’
Picking up a broom, she started sweeping the porch. ‘This place is full of sand, and all of you just keep walking it into the house. I need you to cut firewood for the barbeque and clean the shower for me.’
‘Mum, we’ve only been here a week. The shower is clean.’
Her lips were pursed in a mean line, her face reddening. Her forehead was stretched tight, the bun she wore pulling back her skin, making her look stern and miserable. ‘Christopher, don’t backchat me. Just do as you’re told.’
Re-positioning his board under his arm, he felt a flash of anger surge through him. ‘I’m going fishing. I’ll do the jobs when I come back.’
‘You’ll do it now.’
‘No. I’m going fishing.’
Her hand came up, but he stepped back, jumping down the two stairs and backing away across the lawn. A good slap across the face seemed to be her answer to anything he said that she disagreed with. ‘How dare you!’ she yelled at him.
For once he wasn’t going to give in. Over the years he had always done what she wanted. He would argue a bit, but he’d come to know it wasn’t worth it, and she would win in the end. This morning though, nothing was going to stop him from going fishing with Evie.
The gate squeaked behind him and his father walked up the pathway. ‘What’s wrong Bettina?’ he asked. ‘Let the boy go fishing. He’s on holiday.’
Chris ignored his mother and, tucking his board under his arm, made his way around the back of the house. He leant his board against the fence before heading for a small shed, where the fishing gear was stored. He’d had enough. He was fourteen, nearly fifteen, and it was time she stopped treating him like a kid. He worked hard at school, didn’t get in trouble, and did more work around the house than anyone he knew. These were his holidays as well as hers, and he was going fishing.
The sound of his parents yelling at each other filled his ears, and he quickly grabbed what he needed, snatched a clean T-shirt off the washing line, and made his way through the bush at the back of the house. Stepping over a flimsy wire fence, he found a way through the long grass, breathing a sigh of relief once he was concealed by the bushes. Today he might ask Evie to walk further down the beach and around the headland, where no one would find them.
Thank goodness she had waited. He arrived, puffing and out of breath from running so fast. ‘Thanks for waiting. Can we walk up to where my sisters are? I want to fish further away from here, and I need to tell them they should go home. Mum is angry and wants to know where they are.’
‘Sure,’ she said, picking up her rod and bucket. He noticed how brown her skin was, her sturdy legs tanned and dark against the pink cotton shorts she wore. He gulped and tried not to stare, but he could see a lot of her skin. The only piece of clothing she wore, apart from her shorts, was a yellow knitted bikini top.
‘Your skin goes a darker colour than mine,’ he said, as they walked up the beach together. ‘Sometimes I get so burnt my skin blisters, then peels.’
She smiled at him, and his stomach did a strange flip when she spoke and looked at him. ‘My dad is from Italy and they have very olive skin.’ She pushed her arm against his. ‘I am darker. That’s the Italian blood in me.’
‘I wish that happened to me. My entire back is peeling from getting burnt at the start of the week. It’s itchy.’
In the distance, a group of people were fishing along the shoreline. ‘That’ll be the group my sisters hang out with,’ Chris said, pointing ahead. ‘They’re camped up further.’
They walked quickly, keen to start fishing. There was a good-sized gutter visible in the waves ahead, and they talked about where might be the best place. As they neared the group, a couple of the boys waved to them. ‘G’day Chris. Who’ve you got with you? Is that your girlfriend?’
He could feel his face burn. ‘No, this is Evie, my friend. Do you know where Lily and Rose are? Mum’s chasing them.’
The boy who spoke had long blonde hair down to his waist and wore only a pair of old faded board shorts, his body tanned from swimming and surfing. ‘They’re up at camp. Go up. Just call out though. I’m not sure what they’re doing.’
Evie followed him as he made his way up through the dunes and into the bush that lined the beach. A dog barked as they approached. The camp looked rough, comprising a few small tents and a large tarp hung between a couple of paperbark trees. The trees gave shade and maybe some shelter if it rained. Empty bottles were tossed into a pile, and a fire burned to the side of the shaded area. A couple of boys looked up from where they were playing cards. Rose was sitting with them. A look of surprise crossed her face and she quickly put down a can of beer that was in one hand, a cigarette in the other.
‘Chris. What are you doing here?’
He scowled at her. She only wore bikinis, and a boy who had scraggy long hair and a tattoo on his leg, had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. ‘Mum is going to come looking for you.’ Chris gave the boy an even more irate look. ‘You need to go home. Where’s Lily?’
When they arrived, he had heard noises and noticed movement from one of the smaller tents on the edge of the tarped area. No one answered, and he concluded that Lily was in there. ‘Is she in there?’ he gestured towards the tent.
One of the boys stood up. ‘How about you and your friend go back and wait on the beach? The girls’ll be there in a sec.’
Rose stood up. She was unsteady on her feet, the boy next to her laughing and propping her with his arm. Chris looked at Evie, who had not spoken a word. Her eyes were wide as she looked around the camp, taking in everything that was going on. The sickly scent of marijuana hung in the air, and he wondered if she knew what the smell was. He would have to remind her that whatever she heard or saw was between them, and no one else. There was no way his parents could find out what the girls were up to. ‘C’mon,’ Evie said to him. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Chris stood tall, and tried to make his voice sound deep as he turned to Rose. ‘I’ll wait a couple of minutes, but then I’ll be back if you and Lily don’t come.’
He was angry. Not only was Rose drunk or stoned, but Lily was in a tent with someone by herself. He turned on his heel and followed Evie. When he turned back, he glimpsed Lily coming out of the tent. Her hair was dishevelled and she gave him a wave, calling out, ‘We’ll be there in a sec.’
Evie must have realised he was upset, because she didn’t ask any questions, or try to get him to talk. They stood on the beach together, waiting. He looked at his feet, then back up towards the path near the camp. The girls were taking too long and he didn’t want to have to go back up there. The camp, and what was happening with Lily and Rose, made him feel uneasy.
Eventually the girls came towards them, their shirts draped over their shoulders, both wearing only their bikinis. They ran past him, laughing and doing cartwheels as they neared the water. ‘We’ll just take a quick dip. To refresh.’
Rose fell over just as her feet reached the water, and Lily sat down next to her, both of them rolling around laughing and squealing as the waves caught them. Chris took deep breaths, fuming about how they found everything so funny. They were going to get themselves into trouble. Big trouble.
Evie stayed silent as Chris glared at his sisters, his chest rising and falling noticeably as he watched them. What she had seen at the camp unsettled her also, and she was glad they had not stayed long. Those boys were a lot older, and the place smelled of smoke and beer. There had been dirty cups and plates scattered along the camping table and an assortment of towels and clothing hanging from the branches of the trees. She was surprised Lily and Rose would want to be with those boys. Lily had definitely been up to something in the tent. Evie wasn’t stupid. Hanging around Layla and hearing what her sisters did had opened her eyes to what older girls did. Chris’s sisters seemed like they also did things they weren’t supposed to. And their father was a teacher. Surely, he wouldn’t be happy about them hanging out with the group of boys at the camp?
‘Hi Evie.’ Lily hugged her, her wet body cool against Evie’s warm skin. Both girls’ arms and legs were tanned and lithe. They were taller than she was, and she admired their figures that were covered only with skimpy bikinis and strings of shells around their necks and arms.
She could tell Chris was upset and angry. ‘Mum’s looking for you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she even walked down the beach. Where are you going to say you were?’
‘Sunbaking. We were sunbaking.’ Lily put her fingers to her lips to let Evie know that all of this was top secret. ‘Remember you two. No dobbing.’
‘As if she’d come to the beach. There’s sand on it. Maybe she’ll bring her broom and sweep,’ Rose added.
‘Or she might fly away on her broom,’ Lily laughed, before doing a cartwheel, her hands firmly pressed in the sand, her long legs whirring through the air. When she landed, she did a little jig, picking her T-shirt up from the sand where it had landed and pulling it over her head. ‘C’mon then, Rose. Let’s go see what she wants.’
Evie watched the girls until they disappeared up the beach track and out of view. It was as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Next year they would be in years eleven and twelve and have to do way more schoolwork. ‘What are they going to do at uni?’ she asked Chris, who was concentrating on doing up his line.
‘They reckon they’re not going. Dad said they are, but they say they’re not. They just want to work and get money, and then go backpacking overseas. Mum says they’re not allowed, but they’ve told me they’ve already saved money from their weekend jobs, and they’ll go as soon as they finish school.’
The conversation came to a halt, and Evie was happy just to fish. Chris seemed to need some time to himself. He wanted to fish with her and stand nearby, but he didn’t want to talk. She could understand that. After a few hours, she suggested that maybe they should head back home. The bucket was full of bream and dart, which meant plenty of fish for dinner for both families.