And when they finished, the girls looked so happy, even though they must have been exhausted. Especially Rue.
‘Did you see me?’ Rue asked excitedly as I packed up their stuff and put it into a bag.
‘I did, you were amazing. You too, Wren.’
She smiled back at me. ‘I didn’t think I could do that. Delphine is so nice.’
I didn’t reply to that but when I looked up, Delphine was standing there, and her smile had vanished. I braced myself for whatever she was about to say.
‘Your sisters are great,’ she said.
‘They are,’ I agreed, shocked at the compliment. I kept getting ready and was about to leave when Delphine stopped me by touching my arm gently.
‘That bottom turn you did. It was not terrible.’ It looked like it actually hurt her to say it.
‘Thanks,’ I said and moved to head off but she stopped me again.
‘Try to keep your back shoulder even lower than you think.And watch your front arm, it needs to stay parallel to the water,’ she explained. I looked around to see if there was someone else she was talking to, because this was actually really helpful.
‘Thanks,’ I said in surprise.
She shrugged. ‘La Vague d’Or, they take away points for raised arms.’
I was about to respond when she walked away. But just before she got too far, she turned. ‘Antoine is not a bad teacher, but sometimes he is too nice.’ She nodded, like she’d said everything she needed to say, picked up her surfboard and walked back towards the sea.
La Vague d’Or. She didn’t think I wanted to compete, did she? She didn’t think I could, did she? And hold on …Too nice?Not the Antoine I’d met.
But before I could call after her and ask her to explain, Antoine had come over, pushing his hand through his wet hair. ‘You have some more time? I want to show you something. Meet me back here in thirty minutes?’
I nodded, but it didn’t feel like a question. Definitely not one I was going to say no to anyway.
20
I walked home with the girls, still buzzing from their lesson, and left them to tell Mum and Dad all about it.
‘I’m just going back out for a bit. See you later,’ I called, and took off again in the direction of the beach before they could ask me any questions. I turned to look at them as I walked away, but I needn’t have worried. Mum and Dad were immersed in whatever Rue was telling them, and I was too distracted to be sad or jealous. Nervous energy fizzed in my stomach, electric butterflies colliding with each other again. The feeling sat low in my abdomen and I put my hand there to try to calm it.
The butterflies turned to guilt as I passed the Brasserie. I did my best to keep out of sight, wondering if Felix had thought about me today at all. All I’d said in reply to his text about needing time before telling me about Gabriel was ‘OK’. And it had made sense at the time. I’d been so frustrated, so confused. And now I wasn’t sure, in the clear light of day, if it had been a bit cold. He hadn’t replied. But there was nothing to say.
So I just kept my head down and walked faster. To the beach.
Antoine was waiting by the hut when I got there. I watched him check the locks and say something to Sébastian, who waved at me when he saw me coming.
‘Let’s go,Princesse,’ said Antoine. I’d weirdly grown to like the nickname. Even though it was stupid … he’d come up with it just for me.
Antoine picked up both our surfboards and I followed him down the beach and out on to a secluded path, where a van was parked.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘I want to show yourealsurfing. Not the tourist stuff. You are good.’ Antoine fixed the boards to the roof then opened the door for me. My chest swelled with pride before I was hit with the smell of salt and oil, with a hint of board wax. The latter a smell I’d come to know well after the half-hour demonstration from Antoine on how to wax a board properly. There were shells on strings hanging from the mirror and the van rattled as Antoine started the engine.
He drove with the confidence of someone who’d been doing it for years. He put his hand on my head rest and turned the van, spinning the wheel round, and I caught a glimpse of a tattoo I hadn’t seen before. A wave, which emerged from under the Lycra sleeve that clung to the inside of his bicep. A wave that shattered into little pieces of glass. And there was something written underneath it, but the wordpourwas all I could see. ‘For’. For what?
He spotted me looking at it.
‘Your tattoos. Did they hurt?’ I asked.
He inhaled. ‘Everything hurts if it means something.’
