Page 76 of Summer, in Between
‘Not without you,’ he says.
‘What happened?’says Ant.
‘Remember my friendship opportunity?She freakin’ told Mr Security here that I’m underage.’
‘Hey mate, come on, we’re locals,’ Ant says to the bouncer.‘Give us a break, will you?Let her back in.’
The bouncer stares impassively back at Ant, then talks into his walkie talkie.Bouncers seem to materialise from the walls as four come to stand beside him.
‘Is there a problem here?’one says.
‘Not if you let him back in,’ says Cavey, his shoulders back.
‘He can stay; she can’t.’
‘It’s not enough that you come here from wherever the fuck you came from and take all our jobs?You think you can tell us who can go to our own pub?’Cavey passes his empty beer glass between his hands.‘Just fucking let them in.’
‘That’s not going to happen, mate.’
‘I’m not yourmate,mate.’
‘Come here, Cat.’Paul takes my hand and pulls me behind him, his voice low.I shake him off and move between Cavey and the bouncer.
‘Enough!I’m leaving, don’t worry about it.’
Ant grabs Cavey’s arm.‘Don’t worry, mate, let’s just go have a good time.Cat, you’re all good?’
‘I’m fine, go back inside.’I take a few steps away from the entrance and grab my phone from my pocket to check the time.Ugh, it hasn’t even been an hour since my family left.
‘You’re not going too?’Cavey’s got his hand on Paul’s chest, blocking him from following me.‘We were gonna have a few.’
The bouncers haven’t shifted position.I walk towards the beach, flustered, my mind racing, my hands jittery.I shake them, and startle as a car drives past, its wheels flicking up the stones on the side of the road.I didn’t even hear its engine over the thumping of my pulse in my head.Paul catches up to me and slings his arm around my shoulder.
‘You don’t want to go home?’he says.‘That was a bit shit, wasn’t it?’
‘No way,’ I say, ‘I need to calm down, I’m so angry.Isabel’s hated me forever, but I don’t know why she’d go out of her way to do that to me.Ugh.I was having the best time.’
‘Me too, never thought you’d get me dancing on half a beer.’
‘That was the best,’ I say.‘I am so sorry.You sure you don’t want to go hang with your friends?Watch the band?’
‘No way times infinity.We can see them anytime.’
We walk along the foreshore, the music almost taunting us.
‘Have you ever been to San Francisco?’Paul asks.
‘Um, that would be a no,’ I say.I’m already counting down the days to move to the city, so the thought of being anywhere other that Batter’s Cove entices.‘I’ve always wanted to.Almost every movie I love is set there.There or New York.Have you?’
‘Yep.This reminds me of it.’
‘Yes, Batter’s Cove must take you straight back to the memories of those San Francisco streets.’
‘I did all this tourist stuff, you know, rode a bike over the Golden Gate Bridge, went to Alcatraz.It was such a cool place to see.’He tells me about a tour led by an ex-prisoner, that on New Year’s Eve the sea breeze carried the sounds of music and laughter and celebration, and it was an extra layer of torment for the prisoners, being so aware of the joy they were missing.
‘I’m so sorry, you should be in the pub,’ I say.
‘That’s not what I’m saying, Cat.There’s nowhere I’d rather be,’ he says.
