Deep Wate - Sarah Epstein Page 0,56

a crush on her for years. Mason had never seen Raf so mopey and sombre as when he found out Chloe’s mum was leaving The Shallows and dragging her daughter back to Sydney with her. Now, every time Chloe visited, there was a whole bunch of flirting going on between them, but neither seemed to have realised they’d have to make a bold move if they wanted it to go anywhere.

Mason struggled to see what the big attraction was with Chloe, especially since she didn’t seem to have much time for him but endless reserves for his brother. She’d been up in Mason’s face a few times about Henry. She was stubborn. And Mason got the impression his mother couldn’t stand her. Although putting aside his own issues with her, something about Chloe and Raf seemed to fit, and Mason wouldn’t be surprised if they eventually ended up together.

None of this was why he didn’t want Tom looking at her in that way, though.

It wasn’t even about Chloe. It was about Tom.

Tom was his best mate, his support team, his confidant. Not Chloe’s.

So maybe this was jealousy. Mason could admit it.

And then she got a leg cramp. A painful spasm in her calf. Sabeen jumped up to help but Tom was already there, telling Chloe to hold still while his hands found her bare skin, massaging her calf muscle in a circular motion with his thumbs. Raf was oblivious to everything, earbuds in, facing the water and trying to toss M&Ms into his own mouth.

Mason had to stop himself from kicking Raf ’s foot to get his attention.

Do something, Raf! he wanted to say. Tom’s over there moving in on your girl.

But what he really thought was, Your girl’s over there moving in on my guy.

He almost laughed at himself. How bloody ridiculous. He didn’t think of Tom that way! They were mates. And Mason had Rina for god’s sake.

But also … it was confusing. He thought about Tom all the time, when he would see him next, what they would talk about. He remembered all the times he’d been able to make Tom belly-laugh and how good it felt. Whenever Mason had had a rough time with his mother, Tom was the person he sought out, and even if Mason didn’t share exactly what happened, Tom knew how to be there for him without needing to know details. They were really, really good friends. The best.

So Mason didn’t know what possessed him to start talking to the two German backpackers who climbed up onto Devil’s Rock to check out the view. He might have wanted to make Tom jealous too. He just wasn’t really sure why.

The blonde girls were trying to take a selfie. Mason jumped up and offered to take the photo for them. The taller girl gave him an appraising once-over, nudging her friend, and they both giggled and introduced themselves in faltering English. As the three of them struggled through a conversation, Mason noticed Sabeen and Raf assisting Chloe across the rock towards the northern trail to help stretch her leg.

Good, he thought. Don’t hurry back.

The German girls insisted on taking some selfies with Mason, and he said something that made them giggle again. He glanced over his shoulder at Tom. Tom wasn’t even watching – he was getting to his feet, his eyes on the short track leading from the picnic ground up to the rock.

‘Henry?’ Tom called. ‘You okay?’

Mason jerked around. His brother was rounding the section of trail through the large boulders. Within seconds Henry was running across the rock towards him.

‘Mason,’ he panted. He was out of breath, like he’d run all the way from the start of the reservoir trail, where he would have dumped his bike. ‘You’ve gotta come.’

Mason frowned. ‘What?’

‘You’ve gotta help me,’ Henry pleaded, pressing a hand to a spot under his ribs and wincing like he had a stitch. ‘I came home and found blood on the kitchen floor. She’s dripped it all the way through the living room. She broke something and there’s glass everywhere. Come on, Mase, please. Please help me clean it up.’

One of the German girls giggled nervously at the mention of blood. And suddenly Mason was eight years old again, at the big supermarket in Bowral, worrying about his mother’s injuries. Ivy had been gripping a bag of groceries in one hand, holding Henry’s hand in the other, taking unsteady steps down the concrete stairs towards the car park. The way she’d