They sat on the bonnet of the car,
silent, gazing into the blackness that covered the water, the dawn wasn’t far
off but here in the dark it felt safe, a cloak that covered many cracks and
years. The driver’s door swung half open, they pulled their coats tighter around
them and blew smoke into the emptiness. The wash of the sea underlined every
night sound, punctuated sentences and sucked noise away from the beach into its
own depths.
“Too
long really, but it had to be done. I miss this place more now I’m back than I
ever did whilst I was away. What happened to the garage ?”
"Been gone a long time - well, been a fuckin' surf shop a long time anyhow. You'll see in the morning, too many of them for my liking."
"Guess there's a lot else changed besides..." Terry tailed off.
"What do you expect ? I know that a lot of the two-weekers would love to preserve the place in aspic, leave it as the underdeveloped little village they knew when mummy and daddy brought them here as kids. But it's a living place - not that most of them fuckin' recognise that when they're dawdling in the middle of the sodding road whilst I'm trying to get to work and make a living. Anyway, it's a living place, it's going to change. Always going to change."
Jaz flicked his ash onto the car. Terry swept it away instinctively with his hand.
"Hey, don't start - I wasn't complaining."
"You fuckin' will when you see it all..."
"Yeah, but I wasn't. Just asking." Terry knew Jaz well enough, even after all the years, to know that setting him off was something to be avoided. They sat there silent again and watched the space where they knew the water was.
Jaz whistled, a long low sound
either to indicate incredulity or to signal that he was impressed.
“... And then I
heard through the grapevine about Joe. I still surf, still see a few people who
know that I used to come down here; still see a few people that still do – not
that you’d know them. Believe me, I check. So anyway, I heard about Joe and
thought it was about time I came back and saw what was going on. I know I’m no
local here any more, but I feel like this is the time, otherwise it might not
happen at all.
Besides,
I was so fucked up with home that I had to get out and it was here or blow the
savings and disappear off to Indo or somewhere. I think I’m too old for that
nowadays don’t you ? Even if not then I reckon that I need to hide for a while
and here it’s so much more hidden than any third world beach bar where the
chances are you end up talking to your Auntie’s next door neighbour or your
ex’s new ex.”
Jaz
found himself in the unusual position of listening. He nodded, unsure where to
start – all this information, fifteen, twenty years summed up in a moment. Terry slid
down the bonnet and reached into the side pocket of the door, retrieving his own half
bottle of Jack Daniels. He apologised for the lack of mixer and the two of them
took alternate swigs, Jaz conspicuously wiping the bottle before passing it
back to Terry.
"So, what happened then ?", Jaz looked out and away as he said it, not comfortable with other peoples' confidences.
"What with ?" Terry took another gulp and passed the emptying bottle again.
"Your fuckin' perfect life ? Y'see we hear stuff too. Plenty of news rolled up about you, least for a while. Seemed you had it made - saw a picture of you and Marie getting married - can't say that we didn't wonder why we weren't invited - she looked pretty fit.....all we heard was you were living the life."
Terry
snorted, lit another cigarette, “Yeah well, it seemed so to me for a while too. There
was no great drama, no tales to tell of big events, no ‘moment’ when things
came apart – neither of us shagged around, not as far as I know anyway, neither of us spent too much,
neither of us drank loads…. Just slowly things unravelled, things kind of
crumbled. It wasn’t even boredom; at some point the compliments and the
positives gave way to a war of attrition where each little fault was held up to
the light and examined for those stubborn stains. We started to get on each others’
nerves, started to lose interest in what we had to tell each other. At some
point it occurred to me that we never read the same books as each other any
more, never wanted to see the same films. Marie always had given me a hard time
about being a bloke – it was part of the attraction, a strong independent
woman, but before she’d always made out that it was all blokes in general she
was slagging off – y’know, in that way that only women can do because if we
started talking about women the same way, to their faces, we’d be ripped apart
as unreconstructed sexists stereotyping and generalising and all that shit –
but when they do it….well, maybe
that’s a generalisation in itself, when she did it…then it was all OK and not
available to criticise or come back at. It was a running joke for a while and
then the joke turned sour and the taste it left was unpleasant. That’s when we
split the first time.
We still saw each other a lot,
guess that’s why we got back together. It really was a case of being unable to
live together even though at some level we were so connected, so many shared
experiences, that it was almost impossible not to live with her. But when we
tried again it descended to the same point so rapidly that my breath never
quite caught up. So I walked out and came here. She knows. She might not
believe it yet, but she does know.”
“Why
did you never bring her here ?”
“
Yeah, I wondered who’d be the first to ask that.
I thought about it for a long
while when I was driving down here and the only real answer I can give you is
that she shouldn’t come here – for my sake not hers. She’d have loved it, loved
you lot – well, possibly. She wasn’t really into the surf and stuff, never did
come out with me in the water, but she liked her beaches. All the same I
couldn’t. It’s like this place was so personal to me, so much a part of who I
really am that I perhaps didn’t want her to see who that person had been. It
scared me to think that I’d come so far away from that person and I don’t think
that I wanted her to know, just in case she fell out of love with the me that
she knew.
“Not
the once”.
Soon
the dawn had started to spread across the entire length of the beach. The sun
wasn’t yet up and the night cold hung across them. The wind lessened and the
blackness turned first to grey, then to a dirty yellow. Colours started to
define the cliffs and they could see the waves that had sounded all the night
they had sat there. Jaz was wired on the JD, a sleepless night had left him
buzzing, Terry was still being kept up by the speed. Suddenly Jaz leapt off the
car and ran out of the back of the car park. Terry sat there impassively and
gazed at the scene in front.
Two minutes later and Jaz was puffing back. Two boards balanced precariously on top of his head, like a walking logan stone. Over his shoulder were a couple of wetsuits.
“Fuck
!” Terry smiled broadly, “You serious ?”
“Never
more so mate, never more ! Come on, it’s not bad out there and it’ll clean up
now the wind’s dropped, no-one else about, let’s fuckin’ do it !”
“You
sure ?” Terry sounded hesitant but had already peeled off his jacket and stood
there shivering slightly in a white t-shirt. Jaz threw a wetsuit at him and
stood the boards against the side of the car. They looked at each other and for
a moment they reminded themselves silently that they were in their forties, no
longer early twenties indestructibl. Then they both let that thought slip away
until it no longer bore any relevance and stripped naked in the damp cold car
park, hopping around and grabbing hold of the car’s wings as they tried to
force reluctant legs into tired and stiff neoprene. There was no-one to see
them, but for all the world they felt like they were the last and least likely
pair on earth to be doing such a thing as the sun began to rise behind them,
filling them unexpectedly with the sheer joy of doing something so wonderful
and stupid on a morning as empty and clear as their heads were. Jaz finished
first, helped Terry zip up the slightly tight suit, grabbed a board and jumped
down the dune that had built up at the edge of the car park, down onto the
beach skidding and skipping. Terry followed suit, running full pelt, feeling
his breathing start to race, to catch up – the sea was a long way out but the
swell looked promising, peeling slowly left to right, no other soul in sight.
“Where
did all this come from?” gasped Terry as he caught up, “the boards, the suits
?”
“Joe
always had some in the lock up at the back of the shop, in case he felt like
jumping in after a day at work. I’ve got keys. I used to open up last winter
when he couldn’t be bothered. Hope you don’t mind….y’know, Joe’s old stuff and
all that…” Again Jaz tailed off.
“Fuck
no” Terry flashed a grin, “I was wondering what to do to pay my respects, but
this’ll do nicely. In so many ways it’s what he would have done if the boot had
been on the other foot.”
And out into the early morning ocean....
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