Revival (Johanna's story with Luke Hemmings)

Chapter 30

30.
The day continues to warm up even more. Luke finishes breakfast and then stands looking out the window for a few minutes, before I walk over. "It'd be a good day for surfing ...if you still wanted to" he ventures, "...or do you want a break?"

I guess things have quickly gotten pretty full-on, but I do just enjoy being with him and it's hard to see any harm in it right now. "No - That sounds really cool ...if you want" I reply.

It's almost getting too warm to consider doing much else, especially when there's virtually no breeze, but I think I was about Luke's age the last time I went near a surfboard. He returns home to swap cars and comes back with two surfboards on top of the Fairlady. They are literally on the roof, just sitting on some foam and with rope wound over them and in through the top of the open windows. When I comment on his flash roof rack I just get a cheeky grin and the response, "Hey, it works."

We drive down the coast for about an hour and a half to get to a quiet little bay that I know from visiting a few times as a child. The final twenty minutes or so of the trip requires negotiating a long, narrow, winding shingle road around the side of a hill, and it serves as an effective deterrent to many potential visitors, meaning the bay is almost always secluded. Jess is restless for the first ten minutes or so of the drive, but then seems to realise she's headed further than she first thought, and settles herself into a spot on the backseat directly behind me where she can get the breeze from my open window in her face.

Luke drives along so relaxed, with one arm either resting on the open window sill, or at times out the window toying with the air currents. We listen to music a lot of the way, or are actually comfortable in silence and our own thoughts for long stretches. We both wear shorts and sunglasses, relishing this first really summery day. Luke has clearly decided he can't be bothered doing anything with his hair, and has a maroon cap on backwards. He looks particularly young and carefree.

When we finally round the last corner and catch our first glimpse of the bay, the water is a beautiful, sparkling blue-green, but we realise the tide is too far in and the waves breaking too close to the shore for any surfing.

"Oops - I didn't think about checking the tides" I apologise. "They never seemed to matter when I was a kid."

"Uh, we'll just have to wait a bit - it's on the way out again." He pulls the car well off the road and onto some grass under a wind-swept looking old tree. He turns it off and opens his door, but doesn't move any further.

"It's weird how you remember stuff sometimes from when you were a kid aye" he continues thoughtfully. "I always remembered Dad taking me on this huge, scary roller-coaster in Hampton when I was about six, and then I went back past there last year for something, and it looked so tiny and pathetic. I mean I know I've grown, but it just looked so ...disappointing."

I smile in response and know what he means. Jess is restless again and keen to check out her new surroundings. We take her for a walk to the water's edge and along the emerging fine gravel beach. There are no other cars in the bay and only two houses to be seen. One is further around and up the hill, and I can't even see how you get to it, while the other is a very tidy white cottage set back off the road but much closer, with a large well-kept lawn out front.

"Do you think someone lives there full-time?" I put to Luke, pointing to the cottage. "You couldn't drive from here into the city everyday for work, surely?"

Luke looks thoughtfully across at the cottage and then sits himself on some grass just out of the gravel. "Maybe they're an artist or a writer or something" he suggests.

I sit down beside him and then lay back in the grass. "Now that would be a great life."

The sun beats down on us with a pleasant, sleepy heat to it. Luke turns and lies on his stomach, wriggling closer. I can't help the question that comes out. It's one that's often at the back of my mind, but I try not to let it dominate my thoughts too much. "What are you doing hanging out with a thirty-five year old woman, with baggage ...and crow's feet?" I say to him, letting it escape me now.