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Chapter 15
‘Surfing with a hangover is so not a good idea,’ Ron heard Annabelle groan as she walked down the beach with Kate. She was wearing a wetsuit and carrying a board under her arm.
Ron watched her go and tried not to eat her up with his eyes. She looked phenomenal. He’d already noticed her gorgeous figure (how could he not?) but to see her every curve and dip outlined in sleek black neoprene was almost more than he could bear. And after the events of last night, when she’d been so close that she would have been blind not to have noticed how he felt, he was more conscious of her than ever.
Brett had tried to talk to him about her when he’d insisted on going for a walk with him, but Ron had made it clear that he didn’t want to discuss it. It hadn’t prevented Brett from trying though, and Ron had come to the conclusion that the man was almost as stubborn as Helen.
‘We saw you last night,’ had been Brett’s opening gambit. ‘You like going for midnight strolls, don’t you?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘You and Annabelle looked pretty close.’
Ron knew that Brett and Kate couldn’t have seen much. For one thing, the kiss had taken place well out of sight of the house, and for another all he’d done when they’d got back was to stroke her cheek. Hardly sensational, was it?
‘Did you go back out again?’ Brett had asked.
‘No – why?’
‘I could have sworn I heard the front door… Meh, it was probably my imagination.’
‘Along with you imagining that Annabelle and I are close?’ Ron had asked, his eyebrows raised.
‘Go on, admit it, you two fancy each other,’ Brett had teased.
Ron had said nothing. And he’d continued to say nothing until eventually Brett had given up, and they’d strolled in silence as they’d made their way back to the house.
Thankfully, by the time they’d got back, Annabelle was nowhere to be seen and Ron guessed she’d gone to bed.
It had taken him a long time to fall asleep and his dreams had been filled with images of her limbs wrapping themselves around his to the sound of the waves pounding against the shore. It didn’t take a professional to interpret what that meant.
The sight of her in a wetsuit today didn’t help, and he wished he’d never booked the windsurfing sessions. But then he saw Jake’s face, and knew it was worth every penny. Ron would have been willing to put up with far worse if it meant seeing Jake’s sheer joy at being on a board again.
It became clear pretty swiftly that neither Annabelle, Jake, nor Izzie needed much instruction, so they went off to catch some waves (Ron felt pleased that he was starting to pick up the lingo), whilst he, Brett, Kate and the other children were treated to the beginner’s session.
He felt a right idiot lying on his board on the sand, then hopping to his feet and pretending he was riding a wave, but he could see the sense in practicing the manoeuvre. Some of his embarrassment stemmed from being a total novice whilst kids barely out of nappies looked like pros in the water (Izzie, that means you, Ron thought), and also from wearing the wetsuit itself. It was probably the least forgiving piece of kit he’d ever worn, showing off every lump and bump, and he couldn’t wait to get into the water to hide.
Once he was in, though, he soon discovered that all his concentration and effort was taken up with trying to stay upright on his board, and there was nothing left to think about how ridiculous he looked.
Brett, he noticed with satisfaction, was also finding it hard to make the transition from lying flat to balancing on two feet, and the pair of them spent more time falling in than they spent on the board itself.
‘Look at Jake go!’ Brett cried, while they were taking a much-needed breather. Ron hadn’t had this much exercise in years – walking didn’t count – and he was grateful for the brief respite.
Jake and Izzie made surfing look easy, and Ron watched the children with envy. Sam was doing rather well for a beginner too and so was Portia, while Kate and Ellis were struggling as much as Ron and Brett, but seemed to be having far more fun if all the giggling and shrieking was any indication.
Brett and Ron were slightly less fun-orientated and more on the competitive side, so it was probably for the best that the two of them were as bad as each other.
However, it was Annabelle who stole the show as far as Ron was concerned.
Utterly graceful, she balanced on the board with all the skill of a gymnast, and he watched her over and over again as she paddled out to beyond where the swells were breaking, searching for a decent wave.
Suddenly, he wanted to be out there with her, to experience what she was experiencing, and grabbing his board he waded into the water and paddled out to join her.
‘Are you having fun?’ he asked, spluttering as seawater splashed him in the face.
‘Absolutely!’ Her eyes were shining and her smile was wide. She’d worn her hair in a ponytail, and it was wet and sleekly plastered to her head, making her look incredibly young. ‘Are you?’ she asked.
He was, although surfing, like many things, was harder than it looked, especially when watching a competent person do it.
