Page 25

It’s difficult to put into words how much today meant to me.

It’s not like my fear has been magically cured – I know that it doesn’t work like that – but I never thought I’d be able to enjoy a beach ever again.

And I certainly never imagined I’d swim in the ocean again.

I think today I found a resilience I didn’t know I had; I’ve learnt that the fear doesn’t have complete control over me. And that means a lot.

I even enjoyed paddling out on the surfboard.

I didn’t attempt to pop up, despite how much practice I’d put into it on dry land, but that’s okay.

I was amazed to even be in the water, and when, thanks to Leo’s guidance, I managed to get past the waves lying flat on the board – which takes a lot more strength and effort than I realised – I turned round and paddled with all my might to keep up with the lift and swell of the water before I let the wave carry me towards the shore.

That was when I experienced a smidgen of the feeling Leo has attempted to describe: the thrill of travelling with the water.

The way Leo cheered, anyone would have thought I’d stood up on the board for the first time. But he seemed to understand how big a deal it was to me.

It was exhausting and any time the board wobbled or the salty water splashed in my face, I felt a rush of panic, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins from drifting in safely towards the sand triumphed over it.

I did it. I did it.

And I had to do it again and again. I was on a total high, ignoring the ache in my muscles that was beginning to set in from the physical and mental exertion of the lesson.

By the time we drag ourselves out of the water and up the sand to Marina’s Bar, my muscles are aching so much, I can barely walk, but that in itself feels great: the rush of endorphins you get from pushing your body. My spirit feels lifted; I can do anything.

‘That was incredible,’ I gush, squeezing the water out of my hair. ‘I can’t believe I just did that!’

‘You were amazing.’ He grins, holding up his hand for me to high-five. Just lifting my arm to reach up feels like a huge effort. ‘A total natural.’

‘Hardly. But thank you for being so patient with me. I mean it, Leo. I can’t imagine I’m your ideal student, but you were… you were great.’

‘It was fun; I’m stoked for you.’

‘Iris, you had a surf lesson! How did it go?’ Marina asks, appearing on the decking as we smile up at her from the beach. She lowers two bottles of water to Leo’s outstretched hands and he passes me one.

‘I think I’m starting to see why you live here,’ I say, before taking a swig of water.

She laughs. ‘You looked great out there.’

‘You saw me?’

‘Oh, I saw everything,’ she says, her eyes drifting pointedly to Leo.

He frowns at her before turning to face the ocean, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle. I realise that for an outsider, the lesson might have looked a little… unorthodox.

‘Leo is a brilliant teacher. I hadn’t warned him about a couple of issues I have, but he made sure I felt safe and comfortable,’ I explain hurriedly.

‘You’re glowing! I can tell you loved it. A great start to your surfing career,’ she says, giving me a thumbs up.

‘Tomorrow, I hope I’ll be able to stand on the board.’

‘You will. Practice and confidence are all it takes. Keep up your lessons with Leo and in a week or so, you’ll be out surfing alongside us bigging up Leo before he heads to Australia for Bells Beach.’

I hesitate. ‘In a week or so, I’ll be back home in England.’

‘Ah.’ She nods, disappointment flooding her expression.

‘Of course. I forgot. Well, once you get the surfing bug, you don’t stop.

A good excuse to come out here again to visit us.

’ She glances over her shoulder as customers enter the bar.

‘I better go. See you later – seriously well done for today.’

Neither of us say anything as she leaves, Leo still looking out at the waves and sipping from his bottle of water as though deep in thought.

‘Do you want to grab a drink or something?’ I suggest hopefully, the adrenaline from the lesson knocking aside any inhibitions.

I don’t think I want to tear myself from his company quite yet.

Leo glances over at me. He frowns, his eyes falling to the sand.

‘You should go get warm,’ he says.

‘I’m fine!’

His lips ease into a smile. ‘You’re shivering. You should head home.’

My heart sinks a little at the rejection, and I kick myself.

At least one of us is acting like a professional.

I seem to have forgotten the reason I made today happen in the first place: so I could talk to Leo about his past while we were out surfing together.

Instead, all I’ve done is talk about my past. In my next lesson, I need to keep my game face on and pull it together.

‘Right. Yes. I should,’ I state, hands on my hips, back to being myself and not a swooning teenager with a crush on her surf teacher. Ugh . How cliché. ‘Thanks for the lesson, Leo. See you tomorrow.’

Turning away from him, I start treading through the sand towards his truck in the car park where I left my bag. Walking back home in my sandals with all this sand stuck to my feet is not going to be particularly comfortable, but I don’t seem to care.

Huh. How much can change in a day.

‘London, wait up,’ I hear Leo call behind me and I spin round to see him following.

‘Oh shit, the wetsuit,’ I say, realising why he wanted to catch me before I left. ‘Sorry, I forgot you need that back. Here,’ I turn my back to him and pull my wet hair over one shoulder, ‘can you unzip it for me?’

For a moment, nothing happens and I stand still, waiting, wondering what’s going on back there.

I’m about to turn around to check he hasn’t walked off when I feel his fingers at the nape of my neck, gently moving the strands of hair still plastered to the wetsuit out of the way.

With one hand holding the top of the suit at my neck, he draws the zipper slowly down to the bottom.

Turning my head slightly to one side, I can feel his eyes as well as the cool breeze on the exposed skin of my back. His hands linger a beat too long.

Eventually, he takes a step backwards and I turn round to face him.

‘Thanks,’ I say, as I note his jaw tick. He looks furious.

He gives me a sharp nod.

My face on fire, I start peeling the wetsuit off me, shimmying it down to my waist, and he quickly looks away out at the ocean.

When I’m standing in my bikini, I hold it out to him but he doesn’t move.

I realise that he probably wants it in the back of his truck anyway, so I toss it in there as I reach for my bag, pulling out the white top I was wearing earlier and pulling it over my head.

‘The wetsuit was not why I came over here,’ he says suddenly, glancing back at me.

‘Oh?’

I balance against the side of his truck to pull my shorts up over my bikini bottoms, doing up the button at my waist.

Frowning, he wets his lips. ‘What are you doing tonight?’

‘Tonight?’ I reach in my bag for my sandals. ‘Why?’

‘I’ve got my dad coming over for some food and I thought…’ He trails off, staring at me and seeming uncertain of what he’s trying to say, before collecting himself. ‘You could join us if you’re not busy?’

‘Oh!’ I’m taken aback by the invitation, a thrill rushing through me that he doesn’t want the day with me to end here, either.

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to; maybe you’re writing or, I just… we’ll be talking tactics and nutrition, you know… important surf stuff, so I figured you might want to be there. For the article,’ he concludes, running a hand through his hair.

‘Oh.’ That makes more sense. For the article . I hide my disappointment, embarrassed yet again for thinking that he wants me to be around on any kind of personal level, which would be hugely inappropriate, Iris.

‘Yeah, that sounds great,’ I say with a polite smile. ‘Good idea.’

‘Great. I’ll message you a time.’

‘Okay.’

He nods, but doesn’t leave. I stand awkwardly, one sandal still in my hand.

‘Right, I should go,’ he says, almost as though he’s reminding himself. ‘I’ll message. About the time.’

‘Yes,’ I say, breaking into a grin. ‘You said.’

‘Yeah.’ He laughs at himself. ‘I did.’

Leaning on his truck again, I wipe as much sand as possible from my foot and slide it into my shoe, securing the strap round my ankle. I repeat the process for the other foot and find Leo still lingering when I straighten up.

I throw the strap of my bag over my shoulder. ‘So, just to be clear, you’ll message me a time for tonight?’

He smiles playfully at my teasing. ‘Wouldn’t want you to be late, London.’

*

I’m still grinning to myself over the exchange by the time I get back to the apartment, allowing my mind to wander freely into idiotic, pointless thoughts about the feel of his hand clutching mine in the water.

I’m so caught up in the forbidden excitement of it, I don’t notice the man waiting for me by the door to the building until I’m practically walking into him.

‘José!’ I say, stepping back, the key in my hand.

Dressed in a sharp, grey suit and silk red tie, he takes off his sunglasses and slides a hand over his styled hair to shoot me a winning, pearly-white smile.

‘Iris, hello,’ he says, looking me up and down, his eyebrows raised. ‘You have been at the beach today?’

‘Yes, I had a surf lesson,’ I admit, before I quickly run a hand through the tangles of my wet hair. ‘How come you’re here?’

‘I was looking for you. I wondered what you were doing tonight.’ He folds his sunglasses, sliding them into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘I wanted to take you for dinner.’

‘Oh!’ I smile, blushing. ‘I’m so sorry, I can’t tonight.’

‘Ah. Tomorrow night?’

‘Tomorrow night I’m free.’

‘Not anymore.’ He grins triumphantly. ‘I’ll come pick you up at eight.’

‘Okay. Great. Thank you.’