‘It looks like Ryan turned too sharply!’ Kelly’s body is rigid as she follows the progress of her son through the binoculars.
A few spectators on the shore are pointing. Even without binoculars I can see that one of the boats is in difficulty; it’s keeling over. The other boats have all overtaken it and a couple of race stewards in a speedboat are heading out across the lake towards number seventeen.
‘I should never have let him enter,’ Kelly cries. ‘He’s hasn’t sailed in over a year. He’s out of practice, and it’s so windy out there. What was I thinking?’
‘Kels…’ Tia puts an arm around her before I can get to her. ‘Don’t worry. Dinghies capsize all the time. He knows what to do. He’ll be fine.’
‘But he’ll be so scared. What if he’s hurt?’
Lucinda and her cronies are openly staring at us now and I really want to tell them to get lost – not that I would do that, because that would mean losing control and making a scene and I don’t feel strong enough for that. Not today anyway. Their sideways glances are making my cheeks heat up and my chest constrict. I feel like a child again. Their whole pathetic behaviour is all too reminiscent of a time I’d rather forget. I force myself to look away. To ignore them. To not let all those old feelings well up and paralyse me. I have more important things to worry about right now. Like whether Ryan’s okay.
Derek’s tinny voice on the PA cuts through our growing panic. ‘… and I’m being told that Ryan Taylor is safe and well. If a little wet!’
A cheer goes up, and Kelly starts to cry. ‘Oh, thank goodness.’
Tia and I wrap our arms around our friend. I put Lucinda out of my head. She’s not important.
Derek’s commentary continues. ‘What a shame! If he hadn’t tacked quite so sharply he might have been picking up a gold medal. Better luck next time, Ryan!’
‘I better go down to the jetty and see if he’s okay,’ Kelly says, extricating herself. ‘Sonny, you stay here with Tia and Fiona.’
‘But, Mum, I want to—’
‘Sonny, can you help me find a good spot to set up the picnic?’ I interrupt, trying to distract him. ‘Ryan will be hungry when he gets here.’
Kelly throws me a grateful glance and rushes off.
Forty minutes later, we’re all set up on the grassy bank with picnic rugs, chairs, hampers and cold boxes laid out in an enticing spread. Ryan’s changed into dry clothes and is being treated like royalty by everyone who passes – offering him their commiserations, asking if he’s okay, and telling him what a hero he is for capsizing so spectacularly – but the scowl hasn’t left his features. The poor boy feels humiliated and embarrassed. I know from personal experience that when you’re down, the more someone asks if you’re okay, the worse it can feel.
‘Can we go home now?’ he keeps asking Kelly in a low mutter.
‘Let’s enjoy the picnic first.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘We’ve got cupcakes,’ Nathan offers.
‘No thanks,’ Ryan replies.
‘Don’t worry, you’ll smash it next year,’ Nathan says.
Ryan nods, unable to be rude to my husband.
I can tell that Kelly’s almost at the end of her tether with him. Ryan just won’t be consoled. I think the best thing is probably to leave him be for a while.
After lunch, it’s Nathan and Ed’s turn to race.
‘Good luck, guys!’ I kiss Nathan and pat Ed on the back.
‘Are you going to win the race, Daddy?’ Rosie asks Ed.
‘I’m going to try, pickle.’
‘Just do your best, okay?’ she says seriously, making everyone laugh.
They finally leave us to go and get prepared. After they’ve gone, I manage to relax a little and eat a few mouthfuls of the avocado salad I prepared. Kelly’s appetite is as lacking as mine, while Tia’s getting stuck into the champagne and strawberries. There’s no way I could drink anything alcoholic right now. I’m hovering on the edge of exhaustion; a glass of champagne would finish me off.
The kids are loving the picnic though, and I even spot Ryan wolfing down a couple of sandwiches when he thinks no one’s looking.
