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‘Bugger, I think I’ve left something at reception,’ Ed remarks as we get back to the beach. ‘I’ll just go and get it. Back in a mo.’
He’s gone for a very long time and seems rather pleased with himself on his return.
‘Did you find it?’ I ask.
‘Find what?’ he replies.
‘The thing you left at reception. Did you find it?’
‘Oh, that! Yes, thanks. All good.’
There’s definitely something fishy going on here. Not only was he gone far too long to just be collecting something he’d left behind, but he didn’t come back carrying anything either.
‘You were gone a long time,’ I remark, casually.
‘Sorry about that. There were a load of people checking in, and I had to wait.’
I’m sure he’s lying. I just don’t know why. Whatever it is, I’m not going to get it out of him by further questioning, so I decide to let it go for now.
By the end of the water-skiing lesson I’ve completely forgotten about it. There’s so much to take in. The instructor explains how we have to position our bodies in the water, how to rise up as the boat starts to pull us, and how to get into a standing position. It all sounds very complicated, but the instructor assures me that it’s easier than it sounds.
Ed suggests that I might like to go first. He claims that he’s being gentlemanly, but I suspect he just wants to watch and try to pick up a few tips from my failures. Fine, I’ll show him. I put on my life jacket, take the skis and march defiantly into the water.
Fifteen minutes later I feel like I’ve swallowed half of the bay. This is really hard! The bit the instructor didn’t tell me on land is that, as soon as the boat has put tension on the rope, they hit full power to get you up and out of the water. The first time it happened, I was so surprised I let go of the rope and didn’t go anywhere at all. The second and third times I held on tight and came up on the skis, only to topple over and fall face down back into the water. The fourth attempt was a little better, and I actually managed to get up and into the crouch for a few seconds before toppling over, and this is my fifth, and final, attempt before Ed has a go.
I run through the checklist they’ve been teaching me. Skis pointing up – check. Legs bent into my chest – check. Arms straight out – check. The boat passes by slowly with the rope trailing behind it, and I grab the handle as it comes past, making sure the rope is now running straight between my skis.
‘Go!’ I shout, and tense my body in preparation for the pull on the rope. As it comes, I’m ready for it. I keep my legs bent as the rope pulls me out of the water, and lean back a little as I come into the crouch. Incredibly, I’m up and I don’t feel like I’m about to fall. Tentatively, I start to straighten my legs as the boat begins to turn out into the bay. I keep my eyes up, looking where I’m going. I’m standing now, and it feels amazing! I can see Ed in the boat, taking pictures on my camera, and I give him a wave.
That proves to be my undoing. As soon as I let go of the handle with one hand, my balance goes and I crash into the water again. I don’t mind though. I’m beaming from ear to ear as the boat circles back to pick me up.
‘That was brilliant, Charley! Well done! I hope I got some decent pictures, particularly of the last one.’
‘That was so much fun!’ I enthuse as we head back into the shallows so that Ed can have his turn. He shows me how to take pictures and video on his phone, before climbing into the water.
It turns out that Ed has neglected to tell me something, which is that he has done this before. He’s a little rusty, so his first attempt ends in failure, but on the second he rises up smoothly and is soon standing and weaving from one side of the boat to the other through the waves as we head out in a wide circle around the bay. I have to admit I’m impressed, and after a while I put my camera and the phone down and just enjoy watching him. As his time draws to a close, we head back towards the shore. At the last minute the boat turns to avoid running aground, and he lets go of the rope and sinks gracefully back into the water near the beach.
‘You never told me you could ski! That was awesome!’ I tell him as soon as we’re both back on dry land.
‘Well, I haven’t done it for a while, but I used to enjoy it when I was growing up. There was this big lake near where we lived, and I used to go down there as often as I could to ski. I’d forgotten how much fun it was. I have to say doing it here, with warm water and sunshine, beats the hell out of doing it on a cold lake in England!’
‘Is this how it’s going to be with all the activities?’ I ask him. ‘Are you secretly an Olympic windsurfer? Maybe you’ve kayaked down the Amazon?’
He laughs. ‘I promise I’ve never windsurfed in my life and, although we did do some kayaking at school, it’s not exactly hard so I don’t think you’re going to struggle there. You were excellent for a first-time skier though. That last one was superb!’
‘Yeah, shame I got distracted by a cute boy in the boat,’ I reply, nudging him in the ribs.
‘Cute, eh? I can live with that.’
At dinner, Ed relates our afternoon adventures to my parents and insists on showing them the video of my last run. I notice that he glosses over my first few attempts. I watch him as he talks. His face is bright with enthusiasm and his eyes are sparkling. Stupid Sarah, I find myself thinking. She has no idea what she’s missed out on.
Mum and Dad are suitably impressed by the footage. ‘I had a go once, a few years ago,’ Dad admits. ‘I couldn’t get on with it at all.’
‘You should have seen Ed, Dad. He’s a pro!’ I squeeze Ed’s hand proudly as I speak, and I feel him squeeze mine back.
‘What are you up to tomorrow?’ Dad asks.
‘Windsurfing and kayaking. Apparently, there’s a little beach on the other side of the bay that’s quite nice, so we thought we might go and check that out for a change of scenery.’
