Part 13 (2/2)

'Where's Elliot?' I twist around, scanning the swell.

'Way over there.' Zo points to where the current has lured him south. 'Maybe you should go and round him up?'

'Okay,' I smile, enticed by a vision of the two of us floating into the sunset together. What a life we'd have: taming seahorses, diving for sunken treasure, playing Frisbee with the starfish...

I glance back at Elise, still hunched grumpily on the sh.o.r.e even though Helen is now by her side, her khaki-shorted friend nowhere in view. Can't have been her boyfriend then or she would have introduced him.

Flipping onto my stomach, I start propelling myself through the water towards Elliot. I'm just thinking how chilled he looks sitting there staring out to where the dark green waters meet the streaky orange sky when his spine straightens and he looks strangely alert. Uh-oh I fear the mother of all tidal waves looming on the horizon but no, it remains sloppy choppy as far as the eye can see. All the same, I get a nervous s.h.i.+ver. I don't like coming this far out to sea.

I throw another glance back at the sh.o.r.e. From my long-distance squint it looks like the girls are tucking into some goodies. I want to get back to safety and snacks but the pull to be with Elliot is stronger. I'm nearly with him now, just twenty or so meters to go.

Head down I paddle on until, amid the slos.h.i.+ng water and my grunting efforts, I realize I can hear my name, 'Lara! Lara! LARA!' getting louder and more frantic. I scramble into a sitting position. Where's Elliot gone? His board is dragging sideways but I can't see him. My heart batters at my ribcage. All of a sudden I spot his contorted face straining out of the water, 'Get help!' he yells. His panicked eyes meet mine and then he disappears under the slapping waves, forced down by a heavy hand.

Where he sinks, an old man rises up, wild with fear. Limbs thrash and flail. For a moment I think Elliot is being attacked but as their positions reverse, I realize he is trying to save some old geezer and the old geezer is trying to use him as a float, just as Helen predicted. Helen! I swivel around and call and wave frantically towards the sh.o.r.e but the wind just blows my cries back into my face. Even if they did hear me, they're too far away to act fast enough. One more look at Elliot and I've plunged into the water, tears mingling with the salt. Got to get to him and do the elbow push-up shove and then break the old guy's thumbs! Is that right? Oh G.o.d! What if I cack-handedly elbow someone in the throat or concuss them with the surfboard I'm dragging behind me?

For the first time in my life I ask myself, 'What would Pamela Anderson do?' Not having a body double to hand, I enter the fray grabbing for something anything to pull up to the surface. What the h.e.l.l is that? I gasp for air. Eurgh old man's bottom! I splutter as I come face to face with Elliot.

'Quick, pa.s.s your board over!' he gasps.

I pull it between us.

'Grab on to that!' he urges the old man, wriggling free of his desperate grasp.

The old man grips the board as if he's hanging from a window ledge, not entirely convinced he's alive.

'Reach across,' I guide him, using all my strength to push his saggy-skinned legs up to the surface so he can lie out flat.

Now I'm panting. Through stinging eyes I look for Elliot. He's nowhere to be seen. Milliseconds before cold dread sets in he appears on the other side of the board.

'Are you okay?' I gasp.

'Yeah, you?' he chirrups, jaggling his ears with a level of blase-dom reserved for the seriously in-denial.

I decide to play along with him and shrug, 'Never better!'

'Great! Hop on!' Elliot motions for me to slide on to the back of the board.

As he holds the front steady, I take my position. 'If only we had something to paddle with, it'd be like Hawaii Five-O!' I declare.

'Meets One Foot in the Grave,' Elliot mutters before politely enquiring, 'Are you all right, sir?'

Three successive blinks apparently means the old man is fine.

'Okay, your turn,' I tell Elliot, patting the board.

'I can't.'

'It's okay, I'm sure it'll take all three of us.'

'No really, I can't.'

I frown confusion.

'He pulled my trunks off in the struggle,' Elliot whispers.

As my eyebrows raise, my eyes drift downwards.

'Don't look!' he exclaims, frantically swirling up the water around his groin.

'I'm not looking!' I lie.

I can't believe I've just had a near-death experience and yet my face is plastered with a silly grin.

Chapter 11.

'Don't be surprised if there's a news report tomorrow saying half your ocean is missing.' Elliot collapses on the sand, still spitting seawater.

'If the news says anything it'll be ”Jet-lagged hero saves saggy-bottomed old man,”' cheers Helen.

'Followed by ”Raven-haired beauty saves jet-lagged hero.”' Elliot winks at me.

'Wash your mouth out with this.' Elise thrusts her lukewarm bottle of Evian at Elliot.

I smile to myself. I know it's the compliment not the salt she wants him to swill away.

'I've got something better than that.' Helen rummages in her rucksack, producing a bottle of Jose Cuervo tequila, a stretchy-string bag of limes and a penknife. 'Thought we'd have a few shots to revive us.'

'Hair of the pero!' Zo enthuses.

'Did you bring any salt?' Elise reaches over to nose in Helen's rucksack but Helen is too quick for her: 'Just lick your skin!' she grins, whipping her bag out of reach. 'Suck, swig and bite the lime!'

'But my skin's not salty,' Elise complains. 'I haven't been in the water.'

'I know!' Zo whoops. 'Let's do it so we lick each other!'

A collective 'Ewwww!' greets her suggestion.

'I think it works better when there's more than one guy present,' Helen notes.

'I don't mind,' jokes Elliot.

Elise finds this hysterical. In a parallel universe.

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