the water now, blindingly bright and already warm on her skin. She knew she had to beat the urge to run back home and keep pushing onwards. Turning over last night’s events in her head, she was sorry for herself. Sorry for immediately doubting Brad. Sorry for panicking Jordy. Sorry for losing it so badly.
Meredith was right. Looking at it logically, Brad had probably just gone out for a moment. Jordan had sounded fine and he was a responsible kid, even if he couldn’t make his own bed or his breakfast. That was her fault. At sixteen she was crawling out her bedroom window with a bag stuffed with a tiny skirt and high-heeled boots to catch the tram into town, and getting in to see rock bands with a fake ID. Apparently she’d raised a kid who didn’t even know how to use a toaster. The twins would manage. They always did. In truth, it seemed they’d hardly needed her since they could walk.
Nina reached the rocks and stripped down to her frayed floral one-piece. It had been a long time since she’d swum in the sea. For years she had covered herself with big shirts and hidden under the umbrella, watching Brad and the boys beyond the breakers, longing to be out there too. She always pleaded that she was scared of the water but it was the thought of the near-naked parade past the people sitting on the sand that truly terrified her.
This morning there was no-one to laugh at her dimpled thighs and plump bottom, and she ran—actually ran—across the sand and dived into the chilly frothing surf. No small hand to hold. No-one to watch out for. No-one to see her.
The water was cold and clear. Her body felt as light as a slice of peach floating in a glass of champagne. She dived to the sandy bottom and found a shell, grasped it and bobbed to the surface on a breath. She held it aloft and was—for one golden, fleeting moment—Botticelli’s Venus, blown by the zephyrs of passion and attended by a goddess of the seasons. She twirled in the water just in time to see a huge wave bearing down on her. It whacked her across the side of the head, filling her ear with sand.
Nina stopped at the brick toilet block just up from the beach to rinse her feet under the tap. She was hopping on one foot and slapping the side of her head to get the sea water and grit out of her ear when that bloke from yesterday—did he say his name was Matty, or Marty?—came sauntering around the side of the building with a towel wrapped around his waist. Nina lunged for her sarong and clutched it to her body. She fancied he’d seen her pudgy stomach and had looked away in disgust.
‘G’day again! Matty,’ he said cheerily. ‘Great spot! Nina, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Hello. Hi,’ said Nina as she scraped ropes of sodden hair from her face.
‘How’s your partner, Meredith, enjoying it all?’
Nina was flustered. He’d remembered their names—and the fact that they were supposed to be a couple. It was all highly embarrassing. Matty undid his towel to reveal red board shorts and began drying his bare, tanned, muscled chest in front of her. He did this so casually, so unselfconsciously, it was as though he and Nina shared a bathroom all the time. And—the thought flickered across her mind—that wouldn’t have been an altogether bad thing. He really was a good-looking man.
‘We’re having a wonderful time, thank you. It really is so beautiful here.’
‘Did you meet up with your convoy?’ he asked, shaking his wet hair like a golden labrador. A shower of sea spray flew in a shimmering arc in the morning sun.
Nina was mesmerised. ‘Pardon?’
‘You said you had some other vans joining you. But I can’t see ’em. Have they left already?’
‘Oh! Oh yes, they headed off earlier,’ Nina lied. ‘We’ll be meeting them a bit further up the coast.’
‘In the Murramarang National Park?’ Matty was now towelling his legs with long, languid strokes.
Nina couldn’t help staring. ‘Uh-huh.’
‘We’re heading that way. To the campground at Pretty Beach. Maybe we can all get together and have a drink at sunset.’ He slung his towel across his shoulder and beamed at Nina.
‘A drink? That would be . . . great . . . lovely. Meredith and I . . .’ Nina couldn’t believe how absurd this sounded, ‘we’ll look forward to it.’