Free Our Kind of Love by Victoria Purman Page B

She’d never wanted to visit Middle Point for their holidays. She’d chosen the destinations and it was always the shops of New York or London in time for the new fashion season, rather than the place he’d grown up in. At first, it had seemed like a small price to pay for having such a beautiful woman as part of his life. A career, a marriage, life had all conspired to turn him into one of those blokes who looked out at the waves through the wistful eyes of someone who felt old and serious.
    Surfing Middle Point had helped him pass the time over the summer months since he’d been back. He could spend hours out there on the water. He had even become acclimatised to the colder Southern Ocean again. Out there in the swell, his fuck-ups, the competitive bump and grind of Sydney and the loss of his job all twisted together like a clump of knotted sea grass, which he could imagine floating away as he rode the waves to the sand.
    Ahead of him, the Point was his onshore reference mark. The pub was perched right on top of it and further east the Norfolk Island Pines dotted the coast. The view had changed dramatically in the years he’d been gone. Hundreds of new holiday homes lined the coastline like modern monoliths, taking advantage of the best vistas west and east along the coast, their glass windows winking back at Joe as the sun caught their eyes. Each one was bigger and grander than the next, square shapes with oddly angled roofs, in coastal colours of sea-blue and lemon-yellow, silver and taupe. He counted along the row and could pick where Julia’s old house was – now Dan’s place. It was so small and dwarfed by its neighbours that it almost disappeared behind the dunes, so low its rooftop could barely be seen. From here, it could have been a vacant block. Joe had been impressed with Dan’s pledge to keep the little green beach shack exactly as it was. Middle Point needed more of that, he decided, more history and more connection to its past, not more of the stuff that turned it into every other beach-side town in the country.
    Joe raked his hands through his wet hair and soaked up the warming sun on his wetsuit. He straddled his board, legs dangling and balancing with ease, something he’d learned young and never forgotten.
    ‘Just one more,’ he told himself, as he repositioned himself and lay flat. One more wave, just one more, and then he’d head home.
    Anna hadn’t made it to the pub for breakfast. Of course she hadn’t. That didn’t mean she was a coward, not at all. She was simply a realist. There was absolutely no point in spending any more time in Joe’s company.
    She knew Dan and Lizzie would be wondering why she was a no-show after her promises the night before, but one of the perks of being a doctor was that she could convincingly feign a whole array of illnesses, depending on the needs of the situation at hand.
    It was almost lunchtime before she heard her car pull up outside Dan’s house. Since Joe had left, she’d spent the rest of the morning beating herself up and hiding, trying to retreat into a novel she’d found on the coffee table. It was useless. Nothing had sunk in. The only saving grace was that after a forensic search in Dan’s kitchen, she’d found real coffee.
    She was finishing her second cup when Dan walked into the house, jangling her car keys in his hand. ‘You all right, Anna?’ When she saw the genuine concern in his eyes, she felt slightly guilty for the lie she was about to tell. Sometimes it was hard being a severely lapsed Catholic.
    She smiled up at him. ‘Bit of a headache. I didn’t think I’d be great company at breakfast so I decided to stay in and look at the view.’
    They both turned to admire it through the windows. The promise of the morning had come to fruition – a sapphire sky, cloudless, white caps on the surf, and a light breeze taking the edge off the heat of the day.
    ‘It’s pretty spectacular, isn’t it?’ Dan smiled then turned back to