Page 86 of Ride the Wave

I swallow, before lowering my voice even though there’s no one around to overhear. ‘Mum, if you’re feeling sad about the house—’

‘I’m fine, Iris,’ she chirps, her stock answer ready and waiting before I can ask.

‘I know that,’ I say firmly, determined to get this across. ‘But if ever you’re not, I want you to know that you can talk to me. Because selling the family home, it can feel…’ I close my eyes, recalling Leo’s words at the party ‘…it makes everything real. So, yeah, you may want to brush over it and pretend it’s not a big deal, which is fine… but I wanted to say that if, at any point, you find that itisactually a big deal, then I’m here. You can talk to me.’

I’m greeted with silence.

‘Mum?’ I prompt after a while.

‘Thank you, Iris,’ she says gently. ‘I know it’s only a house but… yes.’ She sighs. ‘Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.’

I nod, the phone pressed to my ear. ‘Good.’

‘So,’ she says, lifting her tone, signalling it’s time to move on, ‘how is the article going?’

‘Funny you should ask.’ I sigh heavily, squinting at my screen. ‘I’m working on the opening line. It’s taken me maybe an hour to write absolutely nothing at all.’

‘Always the way. It will come to you. Especially if you’re staying out in Burgau for another few days.’

I frown in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know, I’ve just felt you’ve sounded different on our phone calls – more sprightly, less agitated.’

‘Huh. I think that’s the first time anyone has ever called me “sprightly”,’ I shift in my seat. ‘Not sure how I feel about it.’

‘You’re in the right place to write,’ she assures me. ‘Stop thinking about it so hard and let it come to you.’

Easy for her to say. But she has a point. Often my best lines crop up into my head when I’m doing something different, when I’m on a walk or out with friends or listening to music. It’s that classic thing when if you want something too much, it doesn’t happen, and then when you don’t need it, it comes along no hassle.

After we’ve hung up, I decide to get in my gym gear and do some yoga with the help of an instructor on YouTube on the balcony, wondering if a bit of exercise might get my brain going. The stretching definitely helps and I do feel better about myself – but the opening line still hasn’t made itself known.

Hands on my hips, I huff in frustration.

‘Maybe I should… go surfing?’ I suggest to myself, watching a couple of others brave the waves out there this afternoon. And then I tip my head back and laugh at myself.

Leo has truly sent me doolally.

Oh my God, I’m actually considering getting in the sea for no reason but to amuse myself and clear my head. What ishappeningto me? I place my palm against my forehead as I look out at the surfers paddling out. Mum’s right. I feel different here.

Although I refuse to accept the ‘sprightly’ description.

When my phone buzzes with a message, I practically launch myself at the table to pick it up, excited to have any kind of distraction.

I break into a goofy smile when I see who it’s from.

23

I’ll be the one to break and message you first. How is your day going?

An overwhelming rush of affection floods through me and makes me slink down in the chair, clutching my phone with both hands, delighted at the idea of him thinking about me.

Leo’s typing again. I wait, my breath catching in my throat.

Did you change your flight?

Cute.

He’s seen I’ve read it, so I don’t consider making him wait around for a response. Instead, I bite my lip and start typing back.

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