Page 89 of Summer, in Between
‘That’s not what I was going to say at all.It’s actually, I don’t know, kind of thrilling.No one’s ever punched anyone on my behalf.It’s all very medieval, really, isn’t it?’
‘Medieval?So you’re not going to go off your head at me?’
‘Not even close.This is so embarrassing, and I’ll never admit I said this as long as I live, but I think I like the idea of you defending my honour.Duels at sunrise and all that.It’s borderline sexy.’And it freakin’ is.I tug him towards me by his shell necklace, the twin to mine, and kiss him, big time, so he knows just how sexy it is.
‘You just keep surprising me, don’t you, Cat?I might just keep punching people if I’m going to get a reaction like that.’
‘Don’t even think about it,’ I say.‘Let’s go for a swim.I have another reaction I want to give you.I’m thinking something medieval.’
38
‘COME on, how much longer?’Paul and I are walking the back beach at dusk.‘We haven’t seen anyone else for ages.Who’s going to see it from here?’
‘Just around the next point,’ says Paul, ‘there’s a stash of wood in the tea tree.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Cavey’s old man cut down a tree on that farm there.’
‘Where?’
‘Here.’He drops my hand and sprints up the dune.
‘You want a hand?’I yell as he disappears into the scrub.I slide my hands up my sleeves and hug myself; there’s only the slightest wind moving the tea tree and the line between the sea and the sky darkens with the encroaching night.I’m just starting to worry when Paul’s outline emerges, his arms filled with slabs of timber.He uses his hands to dig a shallow round bowl in the sand and sparks fill the air as fire catches.
Paul sits heavily on the sand, pulling me down to sit between his knees.His chin rests on the top of my head, his arms crossed in front of me.I lay my hands on his forearms.The hair on his arms stands on edge, pale against his tanned skin.I run my fingers over them, pushing them against their natural grain and feel him visibly tremble against me.
‘How is it that the hair here is longer than what you have on your head?’I reach a hand overhead behind me and rub from the base of his neck to his forehead and back again.I turn to face him.‘Look,
even your facial hair is longer.’I cup his chin, my thumb stroking his cheek.
‘It’s easier to look after,’ he says.‘Two minutes in the shower, and boom, I’m done.’
‘Well, that’s a lie.What about your eyebrows?’I smooth them, although they’re perfect.‘It must take longer than two minutes for you to get these so immaculate.’
‘Very funny.’He kisses my crown.
