Chapter 13
Olivia watches Drew as he stands, wobbly but erect, on the paddleboard.
The instructor is giving him gentle encouragement in the soft burr of his local accent.
Drew nods, his young features serious in concentration.
As the lesson draws to a close, she can see him look over towards her every so often, still eager for her approval.
She stands now and walks towards Bella who has finished her phone call and her cigarette and is gathering her things together into her oversized bag, as though getting ready to leave the beach.
‘Belle,’ she calls querulously. Why does her voice always sound worried or angry when she speaks to her children these days?
Her daughter looks up, Olivia tries not to notice the almost imperceptible eye roll.
‘Hello, darling,’ she says, reaching Bella’s periphery.
‘Drew’s nearly finished his lesson. Shall we find somewhere nice for lunch soon?
Fish? Burgers? Your choice.’ Her daughter pushes up into a kneeling position and stares back at her, askance.
‘Oh my God,’ she says, laughing. ‘What is that thing in your hair?’
Olivia’s hand flies to her head. She had momentarily forgotten about the weave. Turning, she sees Drew jogging along the beach towards them, his face full of invigorated pride.
‘Did you see me, Mum?’
‘Yes, darling. You’ve come on so quickly. You’ll be an expert by the end of the week.’
‘You look bloody ridiculous!’ says Bella.
Drew kicks some sand at his sister and she twists away just in time to avoid a dusting.
‘Not you, idiot. I meant Mum. That thing in her hair.’
‘I thought it was pretty,’ says Olivia defensively, picking up the tail end of the weave and inspecting it. ‘Besides, I felt sorry for the woman doing them. She looked a bit desperate. Foreign.’ She says the last word in a hushed, conspiratorial tone.
‘I like it,’ declares Drew.
‘You would, suck-up!’ says Bella with another roll of her eyes. She pulls down her sunglasses like a visor, as though the conversation is closed.
Drew turns back to Olivia.
‘She was probably an immigrant, Mum. Looking for seasonal work. My instructor was telling me about it. He reckons they come over here all the time, trying to steal their jobs and that I shouldn’t accept tuition or anything from anyone who isn’t with an established local firm.’
‘Oh,’ says Olivia, fingering her hair weave tentatively. ‘Well, I thought she looked like she could do with the money.’
‘Fair play,’ says Drew, distracted now. ‘I’m starving.
Did you say something about lunch? I’ve just had a recommendation for this amazing-sounding place further down the beach.
It’s a bunch of local guys called the Taco Lads and they sell their stuff out of a converted horsebox.
Imagine that. Just cooking and surfing, all summer long. What a life!’
‘I’m sure it’s a bit more complicated than that, dickhead,’ says Bella, who seems to have tuned back into the conversation.
‘Fancy trying it?’
‘I don’t mind where we go,’ says Olivia, pulling her sun hat on. ‘Just as long as we can get out of this midday sun and find some shade. I can feel myself burning. Belle, how about you?’
Her daughter pauses to consider her options for a moment, checks her phone again (something she seems to do with alarming frequency these days) and shrugs.
‘Sure, I’ll come. I wouldn’t mind checking out the Taco Lads.’
‘What about Dad?’ asks Drew as an afterthought.
‘Oh he says he’ll be busy on site at the house for the rest of the day,’ replies Olivia. ‘It’s still chaos, apparently. The architect is coming back down tomorrow as well.’
Bella raises her head at this.
‘You mean, Marcus?’ says Drew. ‘Will he be driving the same car? Do you think he’d give us a ride in it? Those wheels were sick!’
Olivia pauses. ‘Yes. And no, I doubt it. He’ll be too tied up. What are you smirking at, Bella?’
‘Nothing,’ says her daughter who stands flicking away grains of sand from the back of her smooth thighs, rearranging her bikini top.
‘Can you cover yourself up a bit, Belle, since we’re going to lunch?’
‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it,’ she quips in return, swinging her mermaid-like plait over her shoulder as they walk down the beach.
Olivia looks at her own chest, deflated from all the years of feeding her babies, and pulls her kaftan closer together to avoid sunburn. There’s nothing worse than a crinkled décolletage when you get to her age.
‘Have you got sun lotion on?’ she asks both of her children; a regular refrain.
‘YES!’ they reply in unison.
‘So, where’s this burrito place then, Drew?’ she says, turning back to her son.
‘It’s tacos, Mum. Just further down towards the end. Over there,’ he says, pointing in the direction of a sizeable queue that tails around the edge of the beachfront. ‘There might be a bit of a wait but apparently it’s worth it.’
‘Gosh, they must be making a small fortune,’ says Olivia, remembering the expensive paddleboard lessons she’s already paid for in advance as well.
‘Yeah. But I guess it has to last them all winter too.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, Mum. It’s all about the tourist trade round here. Not everyone has a job out of season.’
Olivia looks to her son again, surprised as she always is by how perceptive he can be.
‘Yes,’ she says thoughtfully. ‘I suppose so.’