As we clambered aboard Nick craned his neck, looking back down the pier. ‘So where’s Dad? And that cousin of yours?’
‘Your dad went to get George from the station,’ I explained. ‘We figured we’d be more use here than hanging around waiting for a train, so we rode over.’
‘And I whipped him,’ chirped Matt.
‘Yeah, I can see that,’ Nick said, grinning.
I glanced down at my shirt and realised it was covered in red dust and torn in two places. I was going to say:
And Matt nearly got himself killed in the process
. But I thought better of it. Nick would’ve gone as hard as Matt if he’d been with us on the road.
Nick glanced at his watch. ‘Well, if the train’s on time, they should be here in about twenty minutes or so. We’re pretty much set, I think. Just help me with the ropes, will you?’
Matt and I neatly coiled the ropes while Nick prepared the mainsail, ready to unfurl as soon as we were out of the harbour. When we were done, I checked out the rest of the yacht. Nick had clearly been busy preparing for the trip. Downstairs in the cabin everything was neat, uncluttered and orderly. A large blue Esky sat in the middle of the floor. I took a peek under its lid. It was chock-f of sausages, steak, cheese, eggs and a few cans of soft drink, all smothered in ice. Nick had everything under control. Not that I would have expected anything less. He could manage a trip like this no problem. All we had to do was keep out of his way.
Mounted on the wall above the chart table was a small photo of Nick and me. It had been taken during my first visit to Shell Harbour, three years before. Both of us had stupid grins and sunburnt noses, and were proudly holding up to the camera a huge fish we’d caught. We were both twelve.
Right next to the picture was a mirror and I caught sight of the reflection of me and Nick in it. Nick had his back to the mirror, as he rummaged in his bag for something, but it reminded me that physically not much had changed since that photo. Nick was still a few inches taller than me, still dark tan next to my pasty skin that burned after half an hour in the sun … But in the time since that photo had been taken things had changed. Nick had changed.
As I dropped my backpack onto the cabin floor, I heard Nick’s dad calling from outside. ‘Hey, Nick? Got room for another?’
‘Hey, Dad. Be there in a sec.’
My heart skipped a beat, and my thoughts about the differences between old Nick and new Nick disappeared from my head.
Nick eased past me and up the stairs.
In a sec he would know
, I thought.
He popped his head through the cabin doorway, then stiffened. I heard him mutter under his breath, ‘Oh, great. Nice one.’
For someone who had just travelled ten hours across the country, George looked good. Standing on the pier with her long brown ponytail, faded denim shorts and white singlet over a bikini top, she appeared – as she always did – effortlessly cool.
‘Hi, George,’ I said, edging past Nick.
‘Hey, Johnno.’ She grinned her wide, perfect smile at me.
Glancing back at Nick, who hadn’t moved from the cabin stairs, I tried to sound matter-of-fact. ‘Nick, this is my cousin George. Well, it’s short for Georgina. George, meet Nick.’
‘Hi, Nick,’ George said in her sunniest voice. ‘Johnno’s told me a lot about you.’
Nick nodded stiffly, his face impassive. For a moment I was worried he wasn’t going to acknowledge her at all. ‘Hi, Georg
ina
,’ he said at last. Then he turned to his dad. ‘And I suppose you knew nothing?’
‘Knew? Knew what?’ his father lied and gave me a sly wink. ‘You could have knocked me down with a feather when this little lady hopped off the train. A surprise, but a pleasant one, no question.’
George looked confused and uncomfortable. She glared at me out of the corner of her eye, and the best I could manage was a sheepish grin. She hardened her stare.
‘Yeah, right,’ Nick snorted, with a disbelieving shake of his head. ‘Whatever.’
‘Here, make yourself useful,’ Nick’s dad said, throwing up George’s backpack.
Nick caught it lightly, as if it had germs. Then he shot me a death stare and disappeared below.
At the time it had seemed like a hilarious prank to not tell Nick that George was a girl. I’d even got Matt in on it. If brain-dead Matt could see the joke, why couldn’t Nick?
George had only moved back from living overseas about a year ago and I’d never mentioned her to Nick. I mean, it’s not like Nick and I talked that much these days anyway. I’d really wanted George to spend the holidays with us and Nick said it didn’t bother him if my cousin came along, so I invited her.
George was keen and I was stoked. Against all odds, Matt managed to keep his trap shut. I just thought it would be a bit of a laugh. But now I wondered if I should have paid more attention to my gut instinct. Old Nick would have laughed as soon as he saw George. But old Nick was gone.
I first noticed it during last year’s visit. Even though we’d been friends forever, it felt like he was keeping me at a distance. Sometimes it felt I like was starting over with him every single day, like I needed to rebuild a bridge that had unexpectedly fallen down overnight.
Now I thought about it, my gut had been telling me the new Nick was in no mood for wind-ups. After Nick suggested the island trip, and once it was all organised, there was something in his eagerness to get away from the farm that made me wonder if the George prank was such a great idea after all. But it didn’t really make sense and he hadn’t said anything, and besides George was already travelling across the country to get to Shell Harbour.
To be honest, I wasn’t that fussed about going to the island. Just hanging out on the farm was awesome. Hooning around on quad bikes, fixing fences, herding cattle and eating chook eggs fresh from the nest. But Nick had been set on going and had given me the hard sell. Going feral for a couple of days, sleeping on the sand, spear fishing off the rocks, diving for shellfish. I guess it sounded pretty great. But mostly I hadn’t wanted to let him down, so I agreed. But now, as George shot me another withering look, I wasn’t sure anything I’d done was right.
Nick reappeared on deck. He’d put on a T-shirt, baseball cap and sunnies. Not being able to read his eyes made it impossible to work out his mood. He slouched over the guardrail and asked George if she knew anything about sailing.
‘A bit,’ she replied cautiously.
‘Good,’ he said smartly. ‘I was worried I might have to rely on these two landlubbers.’
Matt shouted in protest, but I didn’t care. I knew I was a landlubber.
Then to my relief, Nick extended a gentlemanly hand and beckoned George to come aboard.
When she was over the guardrail, Nick turned to me and mouthed, ‘Nice one, douchebag.’
Then his dad called him over to the side of the boat. In one move, Nick jumped over the rail onto the pier.
With Nick out of earshot George turned on me, hands firmly planted on her hips. ‘Johnno, how could you?’ she said in a harsh whisper.
‘What?’ I replied blankly.
‘Well, I’m not exactly welcome here, am I?’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ I said dumbly. ‘Course you are. It was just … a prank.’
She stared at me questioningly for a second. ‘Oh, don’t tell me,’ she said, scoffing. ‘Not the old “George/Georgina” prank? C’mon Johnno. What is this,
The Famous Five
?’
I stared at the deck, feeling like a total loser. But George wasn’t finished.
‘So where’s the farm?’ she demanded. ‘Or was that just another little prank?’
I knew it was time to man up and explain things with a calm confidence. Or at least do the next best thing – blame someone else. ‘We’ll still hang out at the farm, but Nick really wanted to go to this island.’
‘Island?’ George echoed. ‘What island?’
‘Crocodile Island. I mean, Lion Island. It’s not far,’ I said, with a sweep of my arm that pretty much took in the entire ocean. ‘He only mentioned it yesterday, honestly. And he really wanted to go so I didn’t really want to say anything.’
‘Like what? Like, tell him I was a girl?’
‘Huh?’ I said, knowing she was onto me.
‘If he’d known I was a girl he wouldn’t have let me come.’
‘Hey, that’s not what I said.’
‘But that’s what you –’
‘Awkward!’ Matt muttered, stepping up to us. He had a stupid grin on his face, which only got wider as he watched me squirm.
‘Shut up, moron!’ I snapped. ‘Mum telling you you’re adopted is awkward. This is not awkward.’
George turned to Matt. ‘Where’s my backpack?’
The bemused look on his face fell away. ‘I don’t know. Nick took it downstairs.’
‘Well, can you go get it? Please?’
‘How come?’
‘Because I’m leaving, that’s how come,’ George told him.
Matt frowned. ‘But you just got here.’
‘Yes, thanks for reminding me of that,’ she said sharply. ‘For a moment I thought travelling halfway across the country trapped next to a big dude with BO was a figment of my imagination.’
Matt watched George for a second, as if waiting for her to laugh and tell him she was only joking, but her intent stare clearly said that wasn’t happening.
He shrugged, turned on his heel and headed below.
It dawned on me that she wasn’t just trying to make a point and that she might actually be serious. I suddenly realised just how badly I wanted her to come along. I mean, the best thing about this whole summer holiday was that George was going to be a part of it, and now I’d stuffed everything up.
‘C’mon, George. Don’t be silly,’ I said.
‘Oh yeah, that’s right. I’m the silly one,’ she said folding her arms defiantly.
I felt my shoulders sagging, as if a weight was pulling them down. ‘Look, I know I stuffed up and I’m sorry. I want you to come, but if you don’t, then I’ll stay with you at the farm.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ she hissed, prodding me hard in the chest. ‘If you don’t go, neither will Nick and it’ll be my fault. Why should I take the blame?’
The question hung between us as we stood in stony silence. I shuffled my feet like a kid busting for a leak and George chewed her lip. When the silence became unbearable, I tried again.
‘George, you’re right. It is my fault. But it’s not like I meant any harm. I’m really sorry if you’re –’
‘Mad as hell?’ she finished.
‘Well, yeah. Anyway, I’m sorry.’
We fell silent again. She wouldn’t look at me for a long time but when she finally did it seemed a little less intimidating. Matt reappeared from down below, struggling up the stairs with George’s bag.
‘Here you go,’ he said, dropping it at her feet.
She stared at it for a moment, then gave a faint smile. ‘Well I guess I don’t really want to sit around on my own …’
‘Say what?’ asked Matt.
She patted him gently on the shoulder. ‘Thanks Matt, but I won’t be needing it after all. Would you mind putting it back, please?’
‘Jeez, make up your mind,’ he groaned, hitching the bag back on his shoulder.
George grinned at me and I laughed, so relieved that she’d forgiven me. I was about to give her a hug when Nick’s dad called us over. Nick scrambled back on deck while his dad stood on the pier, his eyes scanning each of us in turn as he spoke.
‘Now listen up, you lot. I’ve already said this to Nick, but of course he’s bulletproof. According to this morning’s forecast there’s a good chance of a storm later today. Strong winds and possible rain and –’
‘Fat chance,’ interrupted Nick.
‘So,’ his dad continued, ignoring him, ‘I want you to sail straight to the island, no skylarking or mucking about, and get yourself tucked into the main bay by no later than two.’
I glanced at my watch. It was about nine-thirty. Last night Nick had said the boat trip should take us no more than three hours. So I figured we’d definitely make it well inside his dad’s curfew, even if the weather got a bit rough. As if on cue, a wind flurry ruffled the water in the harbour, making the ropes beat like a drumroll against the mast.
Nick’s dad squinted into the sun, trying to see the unseeable over the horizon. ‘Maybe you should go tomorrow instead …’
‘No way,’ said Nick quickly. ‘Dad, the weather’s fine and we’ll be there in a few hours max. We’ll be set up before any rain comes, which, if the last month or three has been any indication, is mighty unlikely.’