Falling Away (2 page)

“So how’s your first day?” She looks up from the cherry red sofa tucked neatly into a corner of the café. She positions the plate on the low-slung timber coffee table and begins twirling hair through her slender fingers.

“I think I’m going to like it here.” Her eyes scan me up and down but they’re friendly and warm, or they seem to be. At least on the surface, anyhow.

She smiles again, twisting her hair continuously through her fingers. “Hey, thanks for the salad. I was starving,” she says, picking up her fork and digging in.

“Oh, it was no trouble,” I reply, being summoned loudly from the kitchen. “But, I … uh … guess I better go.”

“You know, you
will
like it here. Once you get the hang of it,” she says with her mouth full of salad greens, waving me away with her hand at Riley’s bid from the kitchen.

I push through the timber swing-doors and Riley flicks an exasperated expression my way. The risotto’s caught and he needs to change pans. “Sam, get me another saucepan, would you?” he snaps, ordering me around like he owns the place.

I quickly pull a heavy-based pan from the drawer, wondering if risotto is the most time-efficient dish for a busy café. I hand it to him and he retreats to the stove, stridently clanging the saucepans together.

He glares at me, which seems a little unnecessary given my fledgling kitchen-hand status. “Come on, Sam. I need some space. Move out of the way.”

I back off to give him some room. He jostles the pans wildly into position and scrapes like there’s no tomorrow.

When he’s certain the culinary crisis is over he tilts his head toward me as if to get a better view. “So what are you doing this year? Going to uni?”

I clear my throat, feeling slightly suffocated, because it feels like this arrogant man is questioning my ambitions. My drive. My desires. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I was
supposed
to be going to uni, but I decided to defer.”

“Oh really? Defer what?” he persists, oblivious to my choking throat.

“Communications,” I say, giving a little cough. “But I don’t want to go. Not yet, anyway.”

Riley nods sagely, pondering my last remark. His hair falls ever so slightly over his good-looking face. “So what’ll you do instead?” he asks, genuinely interested.

I sigh, although maybe a little too loudly. “Well, that’s what I don’t know. I really have no idea, Riley. Other than work here and surf as much as I can.”

“Oh,” he says as if surprised. “No ideas at all, then? There’s got to be something you want to do with your life.”

I shake my head, glancing out the window over the dumpsters in the rear lane. The bitumen’s rippling silent heat waves through the air. “Other than work here? No ideas at all.”

He smirks, obviously concluding I’m a lost cause. I don’t tell him how it cuts so deep that I want to run away. I don’t tell him to stop asking because it reminds me of her; my darkness-dwelling mother.

I rake over the ever-present memories. The way she descends into despair, with melancholy filling her like the wine that she drinks. The way it infuses her so completely. And when it does, how she leaves me behind. Abandons me. Abandons
us
. And I can see a hundred reasons why I don’t believe in her. Hell, a thousand reasons. Why I
can’t
believe in her. Because she goes so deeply inward and runs, from all of us. Dad, me and my brother Ben. And there she slowly builds her arsenal of pessimism and disapproval. And for me? I just want to leave it all behind. Because
that
armoury is painful.

“Take a break, Sam. You look beat,” says Riley, wiping over his brow with his forearm.

I give him an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Riley,” I say, ditching the tea towel and heading toward the balcony for the breeze. “I’ll just take five.”

***

By the end of my shift I’m cloaked in sweat, dying to inhale the breeze through my skin. I feel like I’ve done an all-nighter with dawn just about breaking the day. But it’s seven p.m. and the sun’s still got a bite that’ll burn. The ferry waits like a loyal dog and I just make it on board before it bounds across the bay. Jack’s sitting casually at the wheel with his father observing him like a stern examiner. Bobby tilts his head in my direction and I nod an acknowledgement. I settle back comfortably, more than happy to watch.

It’s that time of day when the sun drops low and dolphins cruise by Jimmy’s Beach. Round the point we head down-river before ducking under the Singing Bridge, arcing into the sky like a colourless rainbow. At night the lights come on and it glows orange under the stars.

When I get off the ferry Jack’s gaze collects mine. And he holds it. Up close I can’t help but notice his height compared to mine and his strong jaw line above the white shirt. I feel greasy and tired, knowing the make-up is long gone from my face.

“Big day?” he asks casually, curling the rope round the bollard.

I stop, surprised he’s speaking to me.
Really
surprised. Because guys like him don’t usually speak to girls like me. “Yeah,” I say, sounding a little startled. “I started a new job, actually.”

Jack raises an interested brow, sinking both hands into the pockets of his pressed white captain’s uniform. “That’s a coincidence, because so did I,” he replies. “How did you go?”

I shrug. “I guess it wasn’t too bad,” I say, my eyes drawn to the way his pristine white shirt clings nicely to his broad chest. “Busy and hot. But overall, it was okay. ”

He nods, looking right at me. “I’m Jack, by the way.”

I smile guiltily, turning a pale shade of puce. Not only because I was caught looking, but for knowing who he is. “I’ve heard. You and your family have made an impression on the town.”

He laughs with the ease of an old person, shaking his head. “Really?” he says, running a hand through his blond hair before moving down the jetty to tighten up more of those thickly twisted ropes.

“Yeah, for now you’re a novelty. But don’t worry, it’ll wear off,” I say. “I’m Sam.”

He straightens up and wanders back over. “Pleased to meet you, Sam,” he says, extending a broad tanned hand.

I take it and crumple, my gaze locked tight by two infinitely green eyes.

CHAPTER TWO

Life settles into the normalcy of a new routine. It’s pressure-free and light-hearted at Café Blue. Riley stumbles in looking stressed and sleep-deprived. Gemma’s thinner each time I see her and I wonder if she ever really eats. She strikes me as the type who eats salad and stays hungry. Long chestnut hair hangs perfectly around her face, her tan tinted darker with each passing summer’s day.

“Hey, Sam. We’re going out tonight. Do you want to come?” Gemma purrs excitedly. “Come on. If
you
come, we’ll have so much fun! We’re thinking of going to Shaft in Newcastle for a dance.”

I hesitate, trying to conjure up an appropriate excuse. “Ah, no thanks. But maybe some other time, Gem.” Actually I can think of nothing worse. “My brother Ben’s coming home for the weekend.”

She glares at me as if affronted although it appears to be an act. “Suit yourself,” she says, walking away to Emily and not looking back.

***

Ben arrives home. The river’s a mess in the wake of weekend boats tripping up the Myall. Mum’s on a roll, ironing sheets and setting the deck as if expecting to have dinner with the Queen. Ben’s older and has another year of engineering before he’s qualified to build bridges. He’s lanky and tall, his dark hair the colour of soot. His eyes are dark too, but they’re blue like the sky on a deep cloudless day.

“How are you, Sis?” he asks, rolling through the door with his duffle. He heads straight for the fridge, drags it open and retrieves a can of lemonade. Cracking the ring pull, he pours it carelessly into his mouth, spilling the bubbly liquid over the bench.

“I’m good,” I say, glancing at the empty door behind him. “But where’s Lily? I thought she was coming with you.”

“Nah, not this time,” he says, studying the river a little too intensely. And something seems off today. Something’s not right with him. Not right at all.

“Things okay?” I ask.

His shoulders slump. “Depends what you mean by okay,” he answers, fiddling with the lemonade can in his hands. “But no, things are not okay. Which is kind of why I’m here.” He turns his back on me to raid the pantry, opening up the cookie jar and shoving one in his mouth.

I hesitate, watching him, because my brother is never like this. Ben usually radiates a laid-back, couldn’t-give-a-shit attitude. One that quickly becomes annoying, especially if you’re not in the mood. So today I’m worried.

“So do you want to head to the beach?” I ask, hoping he’ll open up, because he sure seems like he needs to.

Ben glances in my direction and gives me a vacant half-smile. “Yeah, why not. I need to see the sea.”

***

Ben pulls into the car park as the lifeguards are pulling down the flags. He pushes out and leaves the engine running, checking the surf which rolls in perfect glassy peaks to the shore. After a moment he leans down to switch off the engine and pull the keys from the ignition. “Do you feel like a walk, Sis?”

I give him a nod, because I do.

“I think I might stay the week,” he says, shoving the keys deep inside his pocket.

I raise both eyebrows. “Really? But what about uni?”

“There aren’t any classes this week. I’m on study break.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. “Well, Mum’ll be pleased to have you here.”

He turns away and laughs, his face hardening. “Yeah, won’t she.”

I narrow my eyes. “So, what’s happened?”

“You really want to know?”

I frown at him. “Of course I do. I can tell something’s bothering you.”

“Lily wants to dump me,” he says matter-of-factly.

I blink, shocked. “What? She wants to break up with you? Why?”

He rakes a hand roughly through his hair. “There’s some other guy.”

“I can’t imagine that,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “Gosh Ben, I’m really sorry.” And I can’t imagine it, because Ben and Lil have always been so, well,
coupley
. Joined at the hip, literally.

He sighs audibly. “I actually thought it was going to last. And I never had a clue about this. Not an inkling. Stupid, huh? She’s moving out this weekend and I can’t go back to an empty house.”

“No, you can’t,” I agree, watching emotion curl across his face. “And you’re far from stupid.”

He raises his eyes as if to say
you reckon?
“Come on, then,” he adds, striding off toward the beach at a cracking pace.

Weathered silver boards lead us down to the beach, the sand creeping across the surface. Ben heads south and I almost have to run to keep pace with him. Yacaaba’s silhouetted against a pastel sky and sea eagles soar above the reaching headland. Ben’s hurting. Silently. And it’s only that he’s my brother that I recognise this.

The ocean sucks back, revealing patches of shells in tiny spirals of colour. When daylight leaves the world’s so pretty my heart lurches like it’s in love. In the distance a familiar figure with a fishing rod treads forward through the sand. He’s carrying a red bucket noticeable for its colour and wearing a baseball cap pulled low on his head, so it’s only when he draws closer I recognise him. He glances from me to Ben with what seems like wordless questions in his eyes.

“Hey Sam, how are you?” he says, adjusting the cap further up on his head.

I hook windblown hair behind my ear knowing conversation’s expected, otherwise it would just be awkward. Like it wasn’t awkward enough already. “Caught yourself some dinner?” I ask stupidly, gazing up at him. And I see that he’s tall. Really tall. All six foot two of him tall. I swallow nervously.

“Yep, this is dinner tonight,” he says proudly, holding out the bucket for me to peer into. “They look pretty good, don’t they?”

Ben looks across at me, waiting for an introduction. In the blink of an embarrassing moment he realises it’s not going to come. “Hey mate, I’m Ben,” he says, shooting me a
you’re really hopeless
look. I get these a lot.

“Jack.” They shake hands like two old men greeting each other with a distant respect.

Ben examines the catch. “They’re good sized fish, mate.”

And he’s so much better at this. Ben’s the articulate social butterfly, totally at ease in his skin. My skin doesn’t fit most of the time. It feels like an oversized sloppy Joe – and a distinctly embarrassing one.

“Yeah, at least I didn’t have to throw any back in today,” Jack says. “Looking forward to a fish on the barbie with a cold beer tonight.”

“Could do with one of those myself,” Ben adds, the nuance of his comment not lost on me.

They laugh in unison and I glance from one to the other. “Jack and his dad have bought the ferry service. They’re new here,” I say by way of explanation.

Ben is obviously impressed. “Cool, man. That’d be awesome – being out on the water all day. The ferry service was for sale for ages. No-one here believed it would ever actually sell.”

Jack laughs. “Well, it sold eventually. And for now it’s perfect.” He looks down at me with those sea-green eyes and I wince. I’m sure he notices because his mouth curls ever so slightly at the corners.

His face breaks into a broad smile, lighting up his eyes. “Well, I’m heading home. Good to meet you, mate.”

“Yeah, you too,” says Ben.

“See you on the ferry, Sam.” He gives us a white-toothed grin and ambles off toward the paint-peeled surf shed sitting on the dune.

“See you, Jack,” I call, hazarding a quick peek across my shoulder. And the guy is gorgeous.
Truly freakin’ gorgeous
.

Ben catches me looking but doesn’t say a word. Just arches a brotherly knowing brow before the fog descends across his face. It does anything but veil what he’s feeling.

“So do you want to talk about Lily?”

He pauses to consider my offer, then slowly gives a shake of his head. “Not really. I just need to come home for a while.” He plonks down onto the sand and I join him, folding my knees and sinking down beside him.