Page 50 of Summer in Sunset Harbour
‘Then it’s better that we find out now, so we cancel everything before financial penalties kick in.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Don’t be fooled by the hat.’
Josie finished her tea. It had gone cold, and left a sour taste on her tongue. With another sigh, she stood up.
‘All right,’ she said.
It washard to keep herself busy when the world was threatening to crash down around her, but she found that cutting the ivy away from the back of the play barn was suitably mind-numbing to fill the void of her life for a few hours. The next morning, with shoulders that felt like they’d been pulling trees out by the roots, she put off what she had to do until late-afternoon, then walked up to Nathaniel’s house by the road route. There were still plenty of hours left in the day, but the sun already hung low over the hills to the west, casting its glow over the English Channel. The sky was clear, the air warm enough that she had to remove her jumper. The road rose to a viewing spot before dipping down again into the clifftop farmland where Nathaniel lived, and Josie paused for a moment to look out over the sea.
Staring at the wide blue expanse of the English Channel, she suddenly felt tiny, little more than a speck of dust, clinging to the side of a massive, spinning ball. The sea, the cliffs, the hills and the valleys, even the trees, would still be here long after she had become but a memory.
Why do we try so hard?Everything comes from nothing, returns to nothing. The foreground flashes in and out of focus, but the background barely changes. The players on the stage come and go, but the stage stays the same.
And then she thought of Hilda, lying in a hospital bed, still defiant. Nat, mole-blind, chipping away at his driftwood sculptures. Lindsay and Geoffrey, trying to repair years of personal failings. Even Tiffany, fresh out of medical school, initially jaded, but now rediscovering a bright-eyed sense of wonder.
Why not enjoy what we have? Live every moment for everything we are worth, and worry about what happens afterwards, after.
She lifted her hands and gave a sudden whoop, then cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a long, screeching howl.
It felt good. Like she was reaching inside herself, pulling something out. She cupped her hands to do it again—
‘Are you all right?’
Her heart leapt as she spun around. She hadn’t heard or seen anyone, but a man on a bicycle had pulled into the verge behind her and was watching her with an expression of both surprise and amusement. At first the floppy beach hat left his eyes shadowed, the afternoon sun on his face filling in the lines of his cheeks and jaw with colour, so it wasn’t until he smiled and lifted the hat that she recognised him.
‘Robinson? What are you doing here?’
He nudged the bag on his shoulder. ‘Dad wanted fish ‘n’ chips,’ he said. ‘I’m just riding down to get him some.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Ah, yes.’
‘You’re riding down that hill?’
He nodded. ‘Then riding a little slower back up. You should try it. Gets the blood flowing. Actually, if you like I can give you a backie.’
‘Excuse me, a what?’
‘A backie. You sit on the seat with your legs out. I’ll stand up and pedal. Didn’t you ever do it at school?’
‘I caught a school bus.’
‘Ah, never mind. Come on. I can give up a lift down, but you’ll have to walk back up. And that’s no diss on your weight. Parts of that hill are one in six. I have to push the bike back up as it is. Twenty years ago, no problem, but I’m getting lazy in my old age.’
‘You’re not old.’
‘I suppose it depends on the outside conditions. Compared to Dad, no. Compared to young Barney or your Tiffany, I’m ancient. Compared to you, perhaps—’ He smiled, then quickly looked away. ‘I’m maybe just right.’
Josie’s cheeks burnt.Live life. ‘A backie?’ She took a deep breath. ‘Okay, come on then.’
He helped her climb on to the bike. ‘You’ll have to hold on to me,’ he said. ‘Hold my waist, but don’t squeeze too tight and try not to lean when we go round corners or we’ll both come off. I’ll try not to go too fast.’
Josie’s cheeks burnt with heat, but at least he was facing ahead and couldn’t see her. ‘All right.’
Robinson, standing in front, took the handlebars and put his feet on the pedals. The bike, a solid-framed mountain bike with deep-treaded off-road tyres, wobbled under their collective weight as they started to move.
