‘I wouldn’t head out there now, mate,’ another surfer had called out to him as he’d jogged down to the shore this afternoon with his surfboard under his arm.

‘I’ll be right,’ Darren had replied. He’d tried to project an air of confidence. He didn’t feel like being told what to do today.

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ the surfer said.

Okay, so the dude who’d attempted to caution him had been right. Darren wasn’t experienced enough to cope with the rough conditions. He’d caught two, maybe three waves before the ocean started to batter him into submission. Next thing, his surfboard had been ripped from his arms. He assumed it had been destroyed on the rocks; he hadn’t stayed to watch it happen, he’d been too intent on making it back to the beach alive. At least he was a strong swimmer, otherwise he probably would have been smashed to pieces on the rocks too.

‘That was pretty fucking dumb,’ he muttered to himself. He should have gone out for beers with his mates instead of coming to the beach. When Raj had messaged to say drinks were a go this arvo in the city, he’d hesitated before replying. There was a small white bandage on the side of his neck from where the doc had sliced out her sample. The guys would probably notice, they might ask him what he’d done to himself. He didn’t feel like answering. They would shrug it off, tell him it’d be fine. But for some reason that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

What other conversation topics would come up? Usually Charlotte. You still hung up on her? Again, he didn’t feel like answering. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was hung up on someone else now. Either way, there was no chance he’d confide in his buddies that he couldn’t stop thinking about a chick he’d only slept with once. And he didn’t want to tell them about his donation to Charlotte and Steph either.

Eventually he stood up and brushed the sand off his wetsuit. ‘Pull yourself together, ya dickhead,’ he said.

Back home, he changed and messaged Raj to make sure the night hadn’t wound up. Still going strong bro, the reply came back. He was about to head out the door and join them, when he stopped and turned back. He walked into the kitchen, opened the cupboard above the stove, took down the mug with the leopard-print pattern and dropped it into the rubbish bin. Then he strode out the door.

Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Wednesday 23 December

Mimi

Her intention was never to lie about it. And certainly not to blame anyone else. But the problem was Jill’s reaction. Mimi felt immediate shame.