The Search (2 page)

Flick and Liz both stood with pens poised, ready to take the orders. Then the bus driver would drive his passengers up Coolini River Road to see the koalas, the tourists would take millions of photos of the fat little furry creatures, by which time the lunches would be ready for the bus folk to eat under the shady umbrellas.

Once the orders were taken, it was a mad rush to get the lunches done. It became even more complicated when the ice-cream truck pulled in and the driver expected the order to be ready. As well as that, someone wanted petrol and someone else wanted their gas bottle filled.

‘I’ll be glad when Roxie gets here,’ muttered Liz.
‘Sometimes she’s more trouble than she’s worth, but at least it’s an extra pair of hands.’

Roxie was nineteen and doing her arts/law degree at Melbourne uni, but at the moment she was on holidays like everyone else. However, she had a part-time job in a bookshop in Melbourne and only came to Coolini Beach on weekends. She was normally a good worker because she knew the shop and the routine, but unfortunately she was a dead loss when she’d been out partying all Friday and Saturday nights, and since it was the end of her uni year there were plenty of parties.

‘Rob, here’s your order.’

‘Can I have more sauce on me sausage roll?’ he said, after dragging himself away from the magazines and peering into the bag she held out.

Flick tried not to pull a face. His food was
drowning
in tomato sauce and she felt like grabbing the bottle and tipping it down his greasy neck, but it was important to be nice to the customers, even sleaze-balls like Rob. She poured more sauce into the bag and handed it over.

‘Don’t suppose you’d wanna go to the movies with me, Flick?’ he asked hopefully.

‘You just asked Liz,’ Flick pointed out. ‘And anyway, the answer’s no, I’m spoken for.’

Actually, she wasn’t. She was recovering from a big bust-up with her ex, and it still hurt. She’d met Todd Newton at uni in Adelaide, and they’d been going out for nine months. You’d think you’d know someone after that amount of time. Flick had believed Todd when he’d said she was the only girl for him, that he’d save up so they could live together and they’d eventually get married. All the time he was saying this while earnestly gazing into her eyes, he was two-timing her behind her back with a girl from his home town out in the sticks somewhere near the Flinders Ranges.

When she’d accidentally found letters from the other girl stuffed in the glove box of his car, Flick had lost her temper, thrown him out of her flat, then packed her few belongings into her little red car and driven aimlessly towards Victoria. She wanted to get away from Todd and her feelings, but she found that she’d taken her feelings with her. She couldn’t run away from herself no matter how far or how fast she ran. The rejection, hurt and anger had gone with her, curled up inside her, tortoise-like, in a hard, protective shell.

By the time Flick had driven through Mount Gambier and then along the bleak stretch of coast near Cape Otway, she was nearly broke. And very tired. She’d pushed on through Apollo Bay hoping to
reach Geelong and spend the night in a backpackers’, but the drive around the twisting Great Ocean Road had taken longer than she’d anticipated, so she’d pulled into Coolini Beach just as the sun was setting, and decided to get a pie and a coffee at the general store. When she’d seen the notice on the window advertising a vacancy for a shop assistant, she’d thought about it for approximately three minutes then applied and got the job.

She’d been lucky finding somewhere to stay. There was an old bus owned by the ranger over in the caravan park, and that was her new home. Seventy dollars a week, and she’d paid up front for two weeks’ rent. It had a double bed, a single bed, fridge, table, sink, stove, bench, cupboards, wardrobe and TV. What more did she need? Kay always gave her leftover food to take back to the bus, the shower block was nearby, and the people around her in the village and the camping ground were friendly but didn’t encroach into her space.

She’d never told anyone at Coolini Beach why she didn’t want to go out on dates or have a permanent boyfriend. It was nobody’s business but her own as far as she was concerned. And there were no parents to check up on her, either.

In a way that was good, but it was also scary. She
could disappear off the face of the earth and no one would care a fig. Mum was in America married to a photographer and living in New York. Flick had been there only once and hated it. And her stepfather, Rolf, was a slimy creep who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. But Mum was besotted and couldn’t see anything wrong with him.

Dad was dead, killed in a car accident. It had happened when Flick was sixteen, and she still woke up crying in the night after one of her nightmares about the accident.

Flick was sure her father’s insurance payout was the reason why Rolf had been attracted to Mum. When she’d pointed this out, her mother had screamed at her and slapped her face. Then when Mum had gone to New York to live, she’d told her sister Beth to keep an eye on the seventeen-year-old Felicity who was finishing her final exams before going to uni. Beth hadn’t worried too much about Flick. She was a sensible girl, very studious, and had a nice boyfriend. So she’d virtually left her alone in her small one-bedroom flat near the uni in Carlton.

At least her father’s will had included a clause that provided the money for her accommodation and further education. She’d enjoyed her first year of arts/law, studying hard and daydreaming about being
Todd’s live-in partner. She’d help him establish his law practice, maybe get married and live happily ever after. And now the wheels had fallen off that dream too.

Last night she’d taken a stroll on the beach after she’d knocked off work and got talking to the young blond sixteen-year-old, Jamie. He was a really nice guy and it had been okay talking to him, but he seemed so young after Todd’s worldly twenty-two outlook. And anyway, even if he had asked her out, where could they go on a date except the movies? They couldn’t go to a disco or a bar or any of the pubs to see the live bands because he was underage and couldn’t get in.

Flick sighed as she put hot chips into cardboard containers ready for the bus folk’s return. In another five weeks she’d be nineteen and already she felt ninety! In a way she was happy to be at Coolini Beach living in a bus, but it wasn’t what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

Uni started again in March, but did she want to go back to Adelaide? Maybe she could stay here and do her degree off campus? She’d made some new friends and she liked working at the store. There were always new people wandering in as well as the locals and the regulars at the camping ground. There were also the
people who owned holiday homes and came for the summer season. But what would it be like in wintertime with only the fifteen locals and a few drifters coming to pitch their tents?

‘Well, I can always give it a go,’ she said aloud.

‘Give what a go?’ Kay paused to look at Flick as she loaded bottles of soft drink into the cabinet.

‘Dunno. Whether I should stay at Coolini Beach and do uni off campus or go back.’

‘You’ve always got a job here if you want it, so why don’t you get through the summer season then see how you feel?’

The second bus trundled over the bridge and pulled up outside the store. There was no time to worry about the future as yet more people piled out and started ordering food. Because there was a stiff breeze blowing onshore the hot food was selling well, and there were more chips to fry and sandwiches to make up. The cappuccino machine seemed to be working more efficiently, so Flick felt that she’d at least achieved something worthwhile for the day.

‘Do you have a dish for ketchup?’ asked an American girl with bouncy blonde hair, tanned skin, blue eyes and big white teeth. She’d arrived in a sports car with some muscle Mary who was smoking a cigarette outside.

‘There’s a squeeze bottle on the table,’ Flick pointed out.

‘I know, but do you have a dish? I like to dip.’

Suppressing a sigh, Flick went to fetch a dish.

‘And do you think you could put a squirt of chocolate syrup in my cappuccino, too?’

‘Chocolate syrup in coffee?’ Flick raised her eyebrows.

‘I like to break the rules.’

The store was packed. People had trailed across the road from the beach for a snack and several carloads of surfers had rolled up too.

‘The sets are sloppy,’ one surfer complained to Flick. ‘Do you know what it’s like further down the coast?’

‘I heard that the waves are good at Blue Johanna,’ she said, giving the dreadlocked guy a bright smile. ‘You could try there.’

As well as being a general store Kay always said the shop was a general information service, and people asked the most incredible questions. Just that morning two women had arrived and ordered a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausages and hash browns, then complained that the bacon was too crisp, the sausages too greasy and the eggs overdone. Kay had bristled but not said anything. Then one of the women had asked, ‘Are the koalas out yet?’

‘Of course,’ said Kay without batting an eyelid. ‘I went up there and let them out of their cages first thing this morning.’

The woman had looked surprised, muttered something to her companion, left the store and driven away in her green Ford on the Coolini River Road in the direction of the koala colony.

‘Stupid cow,’ Kay had mumbled. ‘How can koalas come out when they’re already out?’

‘There was one in the tree above my bus this morning,’ said Flick. ‘You know, the big fat male with the white patch on his butt. He’d peed on my doormat and it really smelt
vile
.’

‘Yeah. Everyone thinks that koalas are so cute, but they’re quite disgusting really,’ said Liz. ‘Did you know the mother never cleans out her pouch and there’s all this gunk in there when the new baby climbs in to start suckling?’

‘I don’t know about females cleaning their pouches, but I
do
know that old male’s looking for a girlfriend,’ said Kay. ‘He’s been grunting like a Victa lawn mower all over the place, day and night. He was in the big gum near my bedroom window last week, carrying on. Looks like he’s moved into the camping ground now. You’d better watch out that he doesn’t take a fancy to you, Flick.’

‘I’ve nicknamed him PK Grunt.’ She grinned. ‘Personal Koala Grunt.’

‘More like Peeing Koala Grunt,’ said Liz, taking off her apron. ‘Can I take my lunchbreak now, Kay?’

It was half-past two and neither of the girls had found time to eat anything.

‘Why don’t you two take a stroll to the beach and get some fresh air?’ said Kay. ‘I can handle this place for a while. Make yourselves a sandwich or something.’

Liz cut some thick slices of ham while Flick found a couple of crusty rolls and buttered them liberally before popping in the succulent meat.

‘Do you want a juice or a Coke?’

‘Um, I’ll have an apple juice, thanks.’

Outside, the sun was shining but the breeze was keeping the temperature down, so it wasn’t too hot, just pleasant. Carrying their lunches, the girls strolled across the road and down the track between the tussocky grass that led to the main beach.

‘Where do you want to sit?’

‘Might as well watch the action.’

There were family groups sitting under umbrellas, mothers paddling while keeping an eye on their sun-suited kids who were running round with buckets and spades. There were some dads digging sand castles,
and some others were teaching their kids to surf on small boogie boards at the edge of the waves. Although no dogs were allowed in peak season someone had brought a red setter and it was charging up and down chasing seagulls, scattering sand all over the kids who were scurrying away from the dog like small coloured crabs in their fluoro suits.

The lifesavers were set up with their portable shelter and swimmers were dutifully massed between the flags, bodysurfing or just diving through the cresting waves.

‘I should’ve put on my bikini,’ said Liz wistfully as they sat down on the sand. She unwrapped her lunch. ‘That’s the trouble with working in the store. We never get to sunbake.’

‘So we’ll never get skin cancer,’ shrugged Flick, taking a large bite of her roll.

‘Omigod, there’s Nathan.’ Liz sounded breathless, the way she always did when she said his name. It was sickening!

‘After the way he treated you this morning, why don’t you wake up?’ Flick peered in the general direction of the lifesavers’ shelter. ‘I don’t see him.’

‘There. See?’ Liz pointed seaward.

‘What a poser!’

Nathan had taken out the rubber surf rescue boat
and was standing up, hanging onto the rope attached through the eyebolt at the front, and acting like he was a jockey riding the favourite in the Melbourne Cup. He was steering the boat straight through the waves with the throttle down hard and spray flying up either side like a soda fountain gone crazy.

‘I hope Cyril doesn’t see him,’ said Flick, chewing thoughtfully. ‘No one’s supposed to mess about with the boat. What if someone starts drowning and he’s out there fooling about showing off?’

Cyril was about forty, a greying, paunchy man, but a very strong swimmer. He was the captain of the Coolini Beach Surf Lifesaving Club, and he took his job very seriously. He was probably back in his van having a siesta while the young bucks, as he called them, patrolled the beach.

‘I was a lifesaver last year,’ said Liz lazily, stretching her toes and admiring her new blue nailpolish. ‘It was fun.’

‘I thought you had to be eighteen?’

‘No way. There’s Nippers, that’s little kids, Juniors and Seniors. It was so cool, but I couldn’t work at the store this year
and
be a lifesaver. Plus no one ever drowns here so it’s not very exciting, you just train and go out in the boat and stroll round making sure people stay inside the flags.’

‘So how many lifesavers are there in the Coolini squad?’

‘Dunno. About ten or twelve, but they don’t all turn up at once. There’s a roster.’ Liz giggled. ‘I’m gunna make sure I get time off to come down here when Josh is on duty. He’s gorgeous.’