when she was stopped in her sandy tracks by a sight she’d long given up on seeing again. There, on the boat ramp, was a LandCruiser with Victorian plates. Behind it two men were uncoupling a tinnie on a trailer—Matty and Zoran.
The last time Annie had spotted their rig was outside Foxglove Spires at Tilba Tilba. She hadn’t set eyes on Matty himself since that first night at Lakes Entrance. She had been entertaining herself with daydreams about him, but time and distance had made her think that she was probably nurturing an adolescent fantasy. Well, she’d soon find out. She pulled the combs from her hair and shook out her curls, tugged her bikini into place and draped a beach towel over her shoulder.
As she came closer to the ramp, Matty stood up from behind the boat and Annie instantly knew he was no conjured fantasy. She stumbled on the fringe of the towel. In that moment he saw her.
‘Hey, Annie! Annie Bailey?’ he called and waved.
‘Hi!’ She regained her balance and waved back.
He was out from behind the boat in an instant, and coming towards her—a bare-chested, sandy-haired, muscled . . . dreamboat. Annie couldn’t believe she’d come up with that word. It was out of some 1950s Gidget movie. And then he was standing in front of her smiling, and leaning in to kiss her cheek. Her nose touched his broad, suntanned shoulder. She was reminded of those passionate kisses in the dark, and her face felt hot.
‘I’ve been looking for you. I’ve got your sunglasses,’ he said with a broad smile. So that was it, thought Annie. She was thinking that might be the reason he was seeking her, but hoped it wasn’t the only one.
‘Great! I’ve been looking everywhere for them.’ The words and for you popped into her head.
‘Come on over—I’ve got ’em in the glovebox. You remember Zoran?’
Zoran turned to wave and grin, and went back to loading the fishing rods. Matty found the sunnies and pressed them into Annie’s hands. He held her slim fingers for a moment—long enough for Annie to remember that his hands had cupped her bare breasts under her velour top.
‘We’re just about to go out for a session,’ he said, taking back his hands and running them through his mop of sun-bleached hair. Annie guessed that he’d also remembered where they’d been. ‘We’ll trawl over a few reefs, after Spanish mackerel, so . . .’
Annie expected that his next words would be: good to see you again—bye.
‘. . . you staying here?’
‘With my friends, Nina and Meredith. In this bizarre giant motorhome.’
‘I remember you said that. It’s not the van with Elvis on the side?’
‘Uh-huh,’ Annie replied. ‘Or should that be uh-huh, uh-huh!’ She threw in a salutation from The King.
Matty got the joke and grinned at her. She noticed that his teeth were even and white. Perfectly formed, like the rest of him. Annie caught herself thinking that one could tire of such physical perfection. There had to be something wrong with him. In that moment she saw it—his ears were just slightly out of proportion. For some odd reason this made Annie feel better. Perhaps, she thought, because it was proof he was human after all, not just some figment of her almost middle-aged imagination.
‘If it’s the same van, that’s weird.’ Matty wrinkled his tanned nose dashed with freckles. ‘Nina and Meredith, right? I’ve met them. We caught up with them in Mallacoota the day after I met you. They said they didn’t know you.’
And then Annie remembered Meredith’s ridiculous lesbian charade. ‘That’s because they were trying to . . . I know this sounds stupid, but they are pretty protective of me. I was down by the lake when you were there.’
‘They don’t like men, huh?’ Matty nodded. ‘That’s cool—a lot of women like that don’t like—’
Annie had to laugh. ‘They’re not lesbians! They just made that up.’ She could see he was struggling to make sense of it all.
‘So I guess that’s why they turned down the invitation the second time to meet up with us at Pretty Beach.’
‘What? You saw them again?’
‘I ran into Nina at the beach showers at Gillard’s. We were all due to have sunset cocktails at Pretty Beach.’
‘Really? We stayed at Pebbly Beach that night.’
‘Well, anyway . . .’ Matty shrugged and grinned again. ‘Here’s an idea. We’re staying at Lot 55, just next to the path over the dunes. So why don’t you bring the ladies over