“So I'll eat ice creams and catch some rays.”
“Oh yes, on the two days of the summer that Cornwall actually gets sunshine.”
“Who cares about the weather?”
“Let me get you a cup of coffee,” Saskia said, talking to him like he was a toddler, before swishing out of the ward.
As soon as she was gone, Zeke turned to me and said, “I can still stand-up paddle surf. I have a great new SUP board my sponsor wants me to try out. I'll go explore hidden coves, see if I can spot a new break, one not accessible by land. Maybe name it too.”
I couldn't help laughing. Stabbed, bottled and battered, but not broken. “I know I shouldn't say this, but I'm so glad you're staying.”
Zeke grinned and said, “Yeah, Iris, it's gonna be real interesting.”
On the first day that Zeke was released from hospital, he came around to my house.
I spotted him from the window. He walked up the path smoking a cigarette, which I watched him crush underfoot. Then he picked up the dog-end and put it in what looked like a little black film canister that he fished out of his pocket. I seemed to remember the Surfers Against Sewage gang handing out those film canisters as part of an anti-beach-litter “Get Your Butts Off Our Beach” campaign, because billions of cigarette butts end up in the ocean each year and some of them hang around for a decade, leaching toxic chemicals into the ocean and killing marine life.
Though he seemed to be a tidy smoker, I was still surprised that Zeke smoked. As a vegetarian, yoga-expert surf champ, smoking seemed weirdly out of character. I hoped it was
something that he only did when he was stressed, though that would mean he was stressed by seeing me, which wasn't a great thought.
I opened the door just as his hand was raised to knock and caught my hand around his fist, unfurled his fingers and led him into the hallway. Before he could say anything, I reached up and put my arms around him, lightly so I wouldn't do any extra damage to his cracked rib. I just wanted to hug him. It was all I'd wanted to do for days, and now he was here I wasn't going to wimp out. He put one hand on the back of my head and quietly said, “Thanks for worrying about me, but I'm OK now.”
My mom's voice called out in the hallway: “Put him down, Iris. The poor boy is walking wounded.”
I released Zeke and spun around.
My mom was smiling, and looking curiously at Zeke.
We went into the kitchen and my mom puttered around, making us eggs Benedict, with veggie bacon and wilted spinach for Zeke. I noticed her eyes widen slightly as Zeke carried our plates out of the kitchen and into the breakfast room. Then she gave me a little smile, which clearly said, “Good taste, daughter.”
“So what do you do, Zeke?”
“I'm a pro-surfer.”
“Oh yes, I think Iris did mention that. And what do you do apart from surfing?”
“I play a little golf, I guess? But pro-surfing pretty much takes up most of my time.”
“What about job-wise? I don't suppose that surf contests pay all that well, do they, even if you can win them?”
“They pay pretty good, but it's the sponsorship and endorsements that really bring in the bucks.”
“And how much do they pay? Roughly?”
“You really wanna know?”
“Is it a secret?”
“No, ma'am.”
“Oh, go on. Ten thousand dollars? Twenty?”
“A little more than that.”
I looked over at Zeke and I could see he was mortified.
“Leave him alone, Mom.”
“Boys today are so easily embarrassed. You'd never see that sort of coyness in my day.”
When we'd finished eating, my aunt Zoe knocked at the door, bringing Cara, my two-year-old niece, who my mom was supposed to be looking after for the day. Cara was holding a small cake tin full of plastic animal figures, which she offered up to Zeke.
“Hey there, little lady,” he said to her, pulling out the animals one by one and asking what they were. I was terrible at keeping Cara interested, but Zeke seemed to be finding it totally easy. My aunt went into the kitchen to talk to my mom, where I could hear enough of their conversation and raucous laughing that I went out to ask them to keep it down.
When I got back to Zeke, he was standing, legs apart, arms outstretched, on the coffee table. Cara was watching him open-mouthed and shouting, “More surfing, Zeke,” every two seconds.
“Does your aunt have a surfboard for her?” Zeke said.
“She's got two.”
“Let's rent a foamie and take her surfing today.”
“You're not allowed to go surfing. And neither is she, probably.”
“Ask her momma. Go on. We'll only take her in the baby waves.”
“I don't know . . .”
“What's this?” my mom said, marching into the room with a tea tray.
“Zeke was thinking we could take Cara to the beach today, if it's OK with Auntie Zoe.”
“She's a lot of work,” Zoe said. “She needs constant watching. Can you handle that?”
“I have a three-year-old cousin, and I sit for my aunt whenever I'm home,” Zeke said.
“I didn't know that,” I said, surprised he hadn't mentioned it.
“YeahâColton. I'm used to taking care of him, and he has some severe ADD, so looking after Cara will be a piece of cake.”
“Well, OK then, but just for an hour,” Zoe said. “And don't you take your eyes off her for a second, Iris.”
“Can we take her in the water?” I said. And Zeke added, “On a surfboard? Just up to our knees?”
“She's a bit young,” Aunt Zoe said.
Zeke's face fell, and I saw my aunt's expression soften.
“Well, OK, but only because you're a young man with years of good seamanship under your belt, and I trust you to be sensible in the water.”
“Cool,” Zeke said. “Also: do you have any duct tape?”
“Yes, there's a roll in the kitchen drawer,” my mom said, looking confused. “Why?”
“The nurse made me promise I'd tape my dressing if I went in the water any time soon. It probably won't get wet if we stay in the shallows, but I should maybe cover it anyways. Guess I don't need an infection.”
Mom got the tape and then Zeke went into the kitchen to put it on, while me, my aunt and my mom talked about whether it was, in fact, possible to be a surf addict.
So that was it. Zeke and I were off to the beach, looking after a little kid. People were looking at us, scandalized, as if Cara was our little girl. I felt like writing on my back, “She's my aunt's kid, not ours, and mind your own business.”
I went to rent the foamie, as Zeke and I only had fiberglass boards and we needed something really big, stable and soft to take Cara safely out. A foamie could support a twenty-stone kook, so it'd be fine for a wriggly two-year-old.
As I walked away from Denny at the surf-rental shack, I saw a familiar head of wavy yellow hair in front of me. I just knew it was her from her awful bobbing walk and tanorexic arms.
Cass's best and only friend, Rae. Rae was the sort of girl whose greatest hope in life was to be a hippie, doss around some remote islands in the South Pacific and have her name officially changed to Dolphina. What she had in common with Cass I couldn't figure out. She seemed all right, but I didn't want to be reminded of Cass or Daniel.
“Oh hiya, petal!”
This was the way she talked. We were all petal or rosebud or Delilah or some other word that popped into her brain. She couldn't just call a person by their actual name. Some people at
school thought she was on drugs, but really she was just incredibly weird.
“Hiya,” I said. “How's it going?”
“Not so bad. Had a magic surf this morning and I'm off now for a toasting on the sunbed at Cass's place.”
“Fun.”
“Sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned Cass, should I?”
“I'm not stopping you.”
“You've gone all moody now, see. I honestly didn't mean to mention her. I only did because she's on my mind, I guess, because of the argument.”
“You two had an argument?”
“No, her and Daniel had a massive blow-up. Maaasive. I could hear it from my house and I live six doors down. It was mega.”
“Yeah?” My ears had definitely pricked up. We were walking down the beach and Zeke and Cara were getting bigger. A minute or two and we'd have reached them. Whatever Rae had to tell me, it had to be then.
“Cass couldn't take it anymore.”
“The drinking?”
“Well, yeah, that wasn't helping, but all the rest of it was getting to her even more than him being constantly tanked.”
I nodded, as if I knew what she was going on about.
Cass and Daniel were having arguments? It was news to me. Just a few weeks previously, they'd been love's young dream. Even Kelly had to admit that, and she was always waiting for the cracks to appear, as she knew that was the only thing that
could cheer me up. Maybe it hadn't all been skinny-dipping and heart-shaped bars of surf wax.
At that moment Cara ran up to me, shouting, “Cara surfing now, please!”
“Hello. And how are you today, duckie?” Rae again.
Holding Cara's hand, Zeke walked up slowly and looked at Rae as if to say, “She cool?” I nodded slightly.
Rae was freaking out.
“Oh my God, oh my God. You are a lej! Zeke Francis. Born 1996 in Oahu. Current holder of the Hawaiian Junior Men's title, and June centerfold of
Surf Girl Magazine
. Earns a quarter of a million dollars every year just from endorsements. I am your biggest fan!”
All Zeke said was “Oh boy.”
“You're in
SGM
?” I said, turning to Zeke, surprise probably written all over my face, but also noting that Zeke was apparently pulling in the mega-bucks.
He nodded.
“âSexiest Athletes 2014.' There's a different guy every month, but June was the best,” Rae said, grinning. “You should get a copy, Iris.”
“It's probably not on newsstands anymore,” Zeke said. “At least, I hope not. They took the pictures last fall but the magazine came out in, I think, May? It's so lame, right?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Nanna had her podiatrist buy her a copy of the magazine and she keeps making the nurses in the retirement home look at the picture. It's kind of mortifying.”
“I'll have to go into Smith's and order a back copy,” I said.
“And look out for
Cosmo Girl
too. I read in their forum that you're nakey in their August issue, Zeke? The feature has Oli Adams, Sebastian Zietz and the Geiselman brothers too, so you should definitely check it out, Iris. It'll probably be out any day now.”
Zeke gave Rae a really pained look, which she didn't seem to notice at all.
“Seriously, Zeke? Naked?”
“Um, kind of? But you know, obviously I'm not showing my junk.”
“So are you in every girls' magazine in this country?” I said.
“Far as I know it's just those two. And that's all on Anders.”
Zeke turned to play with Cara, who was covering the foam surfboard with sand and saying, “Surfboard gone! Zeke find!”
“So are you actually dating Zeke Francis?” Rae whispered.
I wanted to say yes, but that wasn't strictly true so I shook my head.
“Cool. Do you think he might go out for coffee with me?”
“No idea. You'd have to ask him. Be my guest.”
At first, I wasn't sure if Zeke heard that, but he suddenly picked up Cara and walked her over to some rock pools, which seemed like pretty clear body language to me.
“Maybe another time,” Rae murmured.
“So I guess you're itching to go check on Cass?” I said.
“Oh God, I totally forgot! I better dash. Have a lush weekend, Iris. Say bye to Zeke Francis for me,” she said, grinning.
I tried not to suffocate as she gave me a crazy bear hug, and then she went on her way.
I walked over to Zeke, who was knee-deep in a rock pool with Cara clinging on to his back. He was flushed and not in a good way; Rae had really rattled him.
“Can we take her surfing now?” he said.
“Sure.”
We waded out into the shallows and started what Zeke was calling “Cara's first step on the journey to pro-surfer.”
He was so gentle with Cara, sitting on the back of the board, with his feet touching the seabed and letting her stand in front of him, as if she was riding the wave herself. She kept saying, “Me love Zeke!” and then looking at me, waiting for me to say it too. For obvious reasons I just smiled and said nothing.
“Should we let her try on her own? Just bodyboarding? For like two feet?”
“Probably shouldn't. Board might turtle-roll,” Zeke said.
“Just one try.” A ripple rolled toward us and I steadied the board and let go.
The board rose up and got swept along with the wave's momentum. The ripple had looked super-weak but the board was so buoyant that the water ran away with it. The board suddenly tilted and Cara was plunged face down into the water.
I rushed toward her, the water slowing my legs so much that it seemed like I was hardly moving at all, even though I couldn't have been more than a second or so behind her. Zeke came out of nowhere and scooped her up in his arms, his face white with panic.
She came up coughing and spitting water. Then she started laughing and saying, “Love,
love
my surfing!”
“Jesus,” I said to Zeke. “Remind me never to try that again.”
I took Cara out of his arms and went to sit on the beach and dry her off, holding her tight against my body. Zeke fetched the surfboard and carried it over to us. All Cara could say was “Again!” but I shook my head, feeling like I'd aged about ten years in ten seconds.
“We've got to get you back to your mommy now,” Zeke said, and then whispered to me, “She's psyched. That wave had some legs on it, huh?”
I turned to look at him, and suddenly our faces were close. My heart stopped as Zeke moved in even closer, this really intense expression in his eyes. In those slow-motion moments, I couldn't blink or breathe.
Cara, who had been watching some herring gulls fighting over a stolen ice cream, turned and started up chanting, “
Zeke kiss Iris!
” and wouldn't stop. Eventually Zeke had to kiss me on the cheek, just to get her to quiet down. “Lips!” she started shouting. I picked her up and she started yelling her head off. I didn't care. There was no way that my first kiss with Zeke was going to be in front of a shrieking two-year-old.
We walked back to the house and Cara and I said goodbye to Zeke on my doorstep. I watched as he crouched down to kiss her on the head. He looked at me for a few seconds, then once again he touched his temple in a salute. He walked slowly out of my garden and over to his van, where he sat for a while before pulling away. I spied on him from my bedroom window, standing back from the glass so he couldn't see my silhouette. Anders had bought him a new iPhone and it looked like he was talking to someone on hands-free. Probably Saskia, I thought darkly.