Page 101 of One Summer

‘The wind’s dropped,’ he says, quietly.

I nod. ‘Life returns to normal again.’

Which is what we’ve all been wanting, been waiting all night for, so… why do I feel sad?

We’re walking back home, Ted tucked into my own jacket now, looking in silence at the huge waves crashing on the beach, when we see a small figure with a gleaming red surfboard walking towards the water.

I’d recognise that board anywhere. Joshua.

Eighty-Two

Hero

‘He’s going to try to surf this,’ I say, feeling a tight sphere of panic constricting my throat.

The waves are enormous. Too powerful to be surfed by anyone, except a professional, and even then I wouldn’t think it advisable.

‘He’s probably just checking out the conditions. He won’t go in,’ Caleb says.

‘You don’t know what surfers are like,’ I say. ‘It’s all this macho stuff about who can prove they’ve got the biggest balls.’

Growing up in Cornwall, I’d seen it plenty of times. Seen the lifeguards rescuing people from the water, seen the air ambulance landing on the beach when surfers had serious accidents taking on waves too big for them.

He raises his eyebrows.

‘It’s completely blown out. These waves are not even breaking clean. He won’t risk it. Look, nobody else is out there.’

‘I’m going down there to talk sense into him.’

I stride away from Caleb and don’t turn to see if he’s following, because I know that he is. The tide is high and there’s only a sliver of beach left. He won’t let me go down there alone.

I call out to Joshua when I get down to the sand, but he doesn’t hear me over the roar of the water. He’s limbering up, stretching in readiness for the beating he’s about to take in the storm swell.

When he sees me, he holds his hand up to me in greeting, pleased I’m present to bear witness to whatever heroic feat of endurance and skill he thinks he can achieve here.

‘You’re not going in,’ I say. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

‘Nah, this is fine.’

I was drawn to Joshua because he seemed like a free spirit, but now I see he’s just untethered. Not so much free, as freewheeling and totally irresponsible.

‘Look at it. If you go out there, you will hurt yourself.’

‘I’ve surfed worse.’

‘I bet you’ve also surfed better,’ Caleb says, joining us.

‘You only live once, right?’ Joshua answers.

‘Don’t YOLO me,’ I say, firmly. ‘When you get into trouble, who’s going to have to save you? Us. And I’m not much of a swimmer; I can’t speak for him.’

I motion my head to Caleb, who I’ve never seen enter the sea, apart from a paddle in the flatfish’s puddle and to cool off his burning wasp stings.

‘You won’t need to rescue me,’ Joshua says, rolling his eyes, as if this is all one big overreaction.

‘Yes, we will. Just standing here at the waterline is dangerous. There are freak waves coming in off the storm surge. All the weather alerts say to stay away from the sea.’

‘What are you – my mother?’ There’s an edge to his voice now.

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