9
On Friday morning Jill put on her running shoes, an old T-shirt and her floppy cap, and she and Simon headed out for a run and ride after breakfast. Jill had done this when her mother was still alive, before Simon was born, riding her bike alongside her mum as she jogged around the quiet Marshall Bay roads. Simon loved it, almost as much as going to the beach. They made for the road that ran parallel to the coast; a narrow, tarred road lined with bush that carried on for a few kilometres until the next beach. They usually stopped at the beach for a while before going home again. They had hardly been going for five minutes when Simon, a few metres ahead on his bike, gave an excited whoop and stopped as another runner appeared from one of the driveways leading to the beachfront properties.
Jill was surprised to see it was Alex. He waited while Simon rode circles around him as Jill caught up.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” She noticed his running shoes. They probably cost five times what hers had.
“Cross country training?” said Alex.
“Not really. Just getting some exercise. Hanging out with Simon.” “Cool. Do you mind if I join you?”
“I don’t mind. I’m sure I’ll be slower than you, though. And Simon might hold us up a bit on the hills.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”
They ran on in comfortable silence for a while. After a while he spoke.
“This is a nice place to run.”
“Very,” she said. “Quiet and peaceful.”
“We’ve never been to Marshall Bay before,” he said. “Usually we go to Plett, or Hermanus. But my Dad saw this place online and said he wanted to avoid the crowds this time.”
“We get crowds here, but they must be small compared to Plett and Hermanus.”
“Anna was not amused. All her friends went to Plett.”
“You didn’t mind?”
“No. I didn’t mind a break from friends actually. And I heard the surf was good. But it is pretty sleepy here.”
“It must be quiet, compared to what you’re used to. We went to PE the other day though, to the mall. I needed to get a bodyboard for Simon for Christmas. You can’t get things like that in the small shops here.”
“Have you ever been to Cape Town?”
“No. We’ve been to London twice but never Cape Town. Or
Joburg even, only through the airport on our way to London.”
“Cape Town is the best. Maybe you’ll come to UCT one day.”
“Probably not. It’s too far from Simon. And Aunt Bert is getting older, too. I should stick closer. When I decide what I want to study I’ll probably apply to Rhodes.”
“In Grahamstown?”
“Yes, it’s only a few hours away. I could come back on weekends.”
“How far do you want to run?”
“Just up to the next beach. We sometimes stop there and Simon plays on the jungle gyms.”
“Sounds good. I haven’t been there yet.”
After about fifteen minutes they reached the parking lot. It was a smaller beach than the main beach, with not very much sand and a lot of rocks. There was a tidal pool, though, and a kids’ play area, so there were a fair number of people there. Simon dumped his bike and ran off to play when he spotted a school friend on the swings.
Jill and Alex had a drink and splashed their faces at the tap, then found a spot in the shade of some taller rocks where they could cool off and still see Simon. Jill knew her face must be red, and her hair all sweaty and frizzy, but she had looked much worse the first time they had met, so it didn’t bother her much. She did notice that Alex didn’t look any different for having just run all that way. He was as chilled and smooth as ever, and was hardly even out of breath.
This is kind of weird, thought Jill. How had she ended up alone with Alex? She thought Anya would probably freak if she could see her now.
Alex was feeling pretty pleased with the way his morning had turned out. Jill was so different to the other girls he knew. When they had first met at her house he had just been amused by her, and intrigued at how unruffled she had been by the situation. She hadn’t dissolved into a puddle of humiliation, she had just slipped out to change her clothes, no problem. Later he had been impressed by her sharp mind and her sense of humour. But what stood out most of all for him was that she did not seem to have any intention of trying to impress him. None at all. He knew he was attractive to girls: most of the time he liked it, but lately he had been frustrated by the way girls seemed to be either instantly nervous around him, or else shamelessly forward. Sometimes a very confident, attractive girl might talk to him as an equal, but never an ordinary girl like Jill. Jill talked to him as if he was just another guy. She was not intimidated by him, that was it, and he liked this a lot. The other girls, Anya and the other two whose names he had already forgotten, had gone all shy and giggly the day before. It wasn’t a problem, it wasn’t that he minded, it was just nice that Jill had been so … natural with him. Last night he had also sensed that they shared something else: a sense of purpose that he didn’t often see in other kids their age. He had dreams and plans that he was determined to make reality, and because of this, some of his friends’ party-as-much-as-you-can mentality didn’t appeal to him much. Jill didn’t have ambitions as clear as his but she seemed mature, and focussed. It was the responsibility, he thought. In the absence of parents she had to take care of herself, and Simon one day when the aunt wasn’t around anymore. He liked Simon and his enthusiasm, and that morning he had been wondering if he should jog past their house to see if they were there. But then they had appeared on the road, and he hadn’t even had to try. Truly serendipitous.
Jill leant back against the rock. “It’s hot to be running up those hills today. You look as if you’ve done nothing more than walk around the block.”
He shrugged. “I like running,” he said.
“I suppose the first rugby team at your school needs to be really fit.”
“They’re pretty brutal with us in season,” he said. “We get a bit of a break in summer.”
“Have you ever played volleyball?”
“Volleyball? Once or twice. Why?”
“I wanted to invite you to our church’s beach mission. We’re setting up a volleyball net on the beach every day from Monday morning for the rest of the week. You should come.”
“A mission?” Alex didn’t understand her use of the word. “That makes me think of cannibals and David Livingstone, not volleyball.”
“I suppose it is a churchy kind of word,” said Jill, thinking that perhaps she should suggest to James that they call it something else. “We just want to meet other kids on the beach and invite them to join us at the church in the evenings.”
“For what? Sermons?” Alex felt a vague interest in this church, but he wasn’t too keen on the idea of being preached at. School chapel was okay, but boring as anything, and sitting through more of that kind of thing was not how he wanted to spend his holiday.
Jill laughed. “No, not sermons. James will probably do a talk or two but not sermons. Games, music, hanging out, a gutter sundae
…”
“A gutter sundae?”
“You’ve never had a gutter sundae?”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s a three-metre-long plastic gutter filled with ice cream and bananas and sprinkles and marshmallows and stuff. It’s awesome.”
Alex looked at her for a few seconds. She wondered what he was thinking. Did it sound totally dumb and childish to him? “You know,” he said, “yesterday I got invited to a party where I was promised pretty girls and beer. Today – volleyball and ice cream in a gutter. At a church.”
Jill laughed. “Wow, what a choice. We can’t compete with the beer; you’ll probably just get green juice or hot chocolate if you’re lucky. But you never know, there might be at least some pretty girls there!”
Alex gave her a smile and lifted his eyebrows. “I know there will be at least one.”
He felt rather clever for coming up with that. At first, he had thought Jill was a very ordinary-looking girl. She didn’t fuss with her hair or wear make-up. Her clothes were nothing special. But even sweaty and red-faced from running, he was starting to think she looked really good. He liked the unusual colour of her hair. She had amazing eyes, he thought, green and grey with flecks of gold. And beautiful legs in those running shorts.
“The chances of at least one are good,” she said, and he realised with surprise that she hadn’t got the hint at all. She got up from the rock, dusting sand off herself. “I think we’d better get back. Aunt Bert is going to a Christmas party at the Old Age Home and I need to get some groceries so we can bake mince pies for the grannies.”
They got Simon away from his friend and the jungle gyms and headed back. They didn’t say much as they ran side by side. Every now and then Alex looked over at Jill, as she jogged easily beside him, her eyes constantly tracking her little brother on his bike. Mince pies for grannies, he thought. Groceries. Basing life decisions on what was best for her little brother. Again, he had the thought that this girl was nothing like the girls he knew at home. As they reached the road that led to his driveway and they parted, he was already thinking of how he could make a plan to see her again. Soon. He had found the girl he wanted to hang out with this holiday, and she wasn’t a hot lifeguard. She was … it was hard to explain. She was interesting. She went for runs. She wasn’t stuck to a phone. She didn’t blush and stutter when he smiled at her. That was so easy, he thought. Finding a nice girl was usually the hard part. He didn’t think the rest would be a problem at all.
Later that evening, Jill flopped down on the couch with her book as soon as Simon had gone to bed. She was tired after her busy day. After a grocery shop and an afternoon baking mince pies with Aunt Bert, she had gone along to the Old Age Home to deliver them, and ended up helping to set tables and put up balloons for the party the next day. She picked up her phone; she hadn’t checked it all day.
There was a message from Anya sent at about five that evening. Saw your surfer friend on the beach just now. And he ASKED FOR YOUR
NUMBER!
Jill messaged back. That’s weird. I told him about the beach mission so maybe he wants to come.
Anya got the message right away and messaged right back. He could have asked me that, you silly girl. Don’t be blind. HE LIKES YOU!!!!!!!!! Then she sent a bunch of hearts and kissy faces.
Jill shook her head at her phone when it stopped pinging with all the emojis. She sent a reply. You are crazy. You are wrong. Not my type anyway.
Anya was not convinced. Don’t believe you. Such a pity you read that book. With a sad face. And then a surfboard emoji, a heart, and a girl with red hair.
Jill laughed. Anya was hilarious. And mistaken. Good thing she didn’t know about the run that morning. And Alex was not her type. Jill treasured in her heart a picture of the man she would fall in love with one day. He would be sensitive and kind. Clever but humble. Maybe someone musical or arty. Definitely a Christian guy, maybe even a pastor or a missionary. And meeting him was not something that was going to happen anytime soon – maybe when she was twenty or twenty-two, closer to an age to get married. Alex was a good-looking guy, but really – he styled his hair and wore designer clothes. He played first team rugby. He was nice, sure, but that was it. Anya didn’t understand, and she was wrong about Alex. She opened her Percy Jackson book and started reading, finding it a little annoying that in her imagination, Percy’s face was now the face of the head boy of a prestigious Cape Town boys’ school.