'Doctors,' Harri winked. 'You know me too well, doll. What do you think about ditching that cuppa and opening a bottle instead?'
Lizzie looped her arm around Harri's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. 'You had me at g'day, Harri.'
CHAPTER
5
The early morning sun was already shining so bright that the lapping waves on the sand shimmered like liquid mercury, hot and silver in the distance. With her red bodyboard nestled under the crook of her right arm, Lizzie took slow steps into the waves, cool on her ankles and calves, the cover of her knee-length wetsuit insulating the rest of her from the freshness of the water. Being in the ocean calmed her. The unyielding pull of the waves, the mysterious interaction of the moon and gravity that created the tides, the pounding sound in her ears. It was all heaven to Lizzie. For some people it was classical music. For her, the rhythm of the deep was always enough.
Lizzie breathed in, let the sea air fill her lungs. Above her, the sky was almost cloudless, a brilliant early summer blue with only a few scattered streaks of white marking the eastern sky. A pair of seagulls flew low over the water and Lizzie watched in amusement as one landed to bob on the water right near her. The gull cocked its head in her direction, flapped its wings and took off, soaring away with the southerlies.
Just like the gulls, Lizzie felt a part of this place, had grown up looking at this ocean most every day of her life. The Southern Ocean could be unforgiving, as the historic wrecks of ships along parts of the rocky coast could attest, but she loved the wildness of it, the knowledge that there was nothing between her and the Antarctic but a few thousands miles of ocean.
It was her favourite place, her saving grace, her anchor. She'd needed to get out there in the waves, to calm her growing sense of dislocation. Since Dan's accident, normal life in Middle Point had veered off course, like a stone from a crooked slingshot, in a direction no one had prepared for or planned. And since then, nothing had come together in exactly the same order. Julia and Ry were still on tenterhooks around Dan and their attempt to get Lizzie to help him hadn't worked. He was clearly pushing back, trying to put a distance between them. Lizzie felt foolish all of a sudden; she should have gone with her first instinct, which was to do exactly the same. Instead, she'd let herself be distracted by his handsome sadness.
At the sound of girlish shrieks of laughter, Lizzie turned back to the sand and watched two young women contemplate the water. As they ran into the waves, their tanned knees rose up like prancing ponies. They were happy, giggling, calling to each other, clad in tiny, precarious bikinis that wouldn't survive a strong wave. She wondered where they got their mysterious confidence and more importantly, where hers had gone. Part of it was back in London, she knew. Maybe she would never get it back.
The girls ran deeper and then ducked under a wave like dolphins, emerging from the other side of the foam, squealing. Fifteen years before, that was her and Julia. She shook the thought away. So much had happened in those years, enough that she'd chosen to be tethered to the safety and comfortable regularity of Middle Point, as reliable and certain as the waves on the sand and the wind in the southern sky.
Lizzie turned her attention back to the horizon, judging each wave as it rolled towards her. Some looked impressive, boastful even, full of foam and height but they petered out quickly. They were a trick for beginners. They looked strong but left you hanging, unsatisfied.
Since London, she'd learned to be patient, to wait for a strong one, could tell by the foaming caps and the strength of the undertow if the next wave would be strong enough to take her, would be worth launching herself at, body and soul, and then riding it, hanging on tightly as it propelled her to the sand in the perfect ride.
Lizzie saw one ahead, could feel it rushing towards her. There was a sound, a roar with it and she waited. As it approached, she turned to face the beach, gripped her board and then launched herself onto the wave.
And then she was off, the force of it hurtling her and her board towards the sand, a schoolgirl squeal on her lips. The growl and splash of the water, the roaring noise, blocked out every other sound and she imagined people on the beach were wondering what the hell that woman was laughing at as she rode the wave into the silvery water of the shallows.
When her board skimmed the sand and came to a sudden stop, Lizzie rolled off it and sat there, grinning, feeling free and light and unburdened. The adrenalin still coursed through her and she caught her breath, her board banging against her calf, tethered to her by her wrist strap.
Whatever was happening in her life, there was the comfort of this. The ocean. The beach. The Point she loved so much. In all her best times, and her darkest, all this had been her constant. They gave her no excuses, cut her no slack. The waves rolled on no matter what was going on in her life away from them.
Her life. Lizzie held up a hand to shield her face from the harsh sun and the light it shone on her circumstances. Suddenly, lately, it had felt like she'd put that life on hold. For years, she'd been content to simply let things happen to her, whether by luck or circumstance. Life as a waitress at the pub, doing her bit for others around Middle Point, hiding away and sleepwalking through her life had been enough.
Now, she yearned for more. Maybe it had been spurred on by Ry's arrival and his purchase of the pub, the way he'd given it a much-needed injection of energy. The previous owners, while wonderful to Lizzie over the years, had been old-school, happy to let business continue as it had since the 1970s. When Ry had arrived in town, the first thing he'd done was guarantee all the staff their jobs. Lizzie had liked him immediately and liked him even more when he'd promoted her to the newly created position of manager. He'd made special mention of all the work she already did around the business and rewarded her for it. She was proud of the promotion and had stayed awake at night wondering if all her crazy ideas for the place were good ones. There was so much potential there and, for the first time in forever, she let herself think there might be potential in her.
A small black dog appeared at her side, panting, eager for a pat. Lizzie reached over to give it a scratch behind the ears. After a whistle from its owner, it scampered off down the beach, stopping to sniff the clumps and knots of dried sea grasses on the sand.
Lizzie rose to her feet and gazed out to the water. She made a resolution right there and then. She had to get that mysterious confidence back.
A part of her knew that there was something between her and Dan, something puzzling and powerful, something that had been hinted at right from the beginning. But that didn't mean the time was right. For her or for him. And if the timing wasn't right, did that mean it wasn't supposed to happen for them?
That's life.
Lizzie decided it was time she got on with hers.
Ry placed his knife and fork neatly across his plate and took a sip of water, a huge grin creasing his face. He leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms up and linked them behind his neck. He took a satisfied look around the pub's front bar.
'Lizzie, you know what I love about my life?'
From across the table, Lizzie raised her eyebrows. 'Other than Jools, you mean?'
'Yeah, other than JJ. I love that I get to have business meetings in the front bar of my pub. Wearing shorts and thongs. On a near perfect day, like today, looking out at that spectacular view. It's bloody brilliant.'
Lizzie smiled back at him. She knew what he meant. 'You're like a reformed smoker, you know that? You've only been here for – what is it now – six months, and you're Middle Point's biggest fan. Those of us who are born and bred have known its attractions for a whole lot longer.'
'Yeah, yeah, and I suppose I won't be considered a local for at least another three decades, right?'
'Something like that.' Lizzie crossed her arms and leaned on the table. 'So, can we talk business now?'
'Talk about a buzz kill. So, what's this big thing you had to ask me about?'
Lizzie took a deep breath to steady herself. The idea had come to her in the middle of the night. Just like that. She'd blinked her eyes open in the darkness and there it was, an idea so simple she couldn't believe she'd hadn't thought of it before. Over breakfast, she'd gone over and over it in her head and then called Ry, telling him she needed to talk.
'I've got a plan for the pub. And all it needs is your okay. Oh, and your money.' Lizzie didn't doubt her idea was brilliant but she wasn't used to being so upfront about what she thought. She gave Ry one of her best and most confident smiles, hoping it would work its magic on him. She searched his face. Nope, there was no sign that it had any effect whatsoever.