The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(19)

I sit down on a stool. I feel awkward and I don’t know what to say. I don’t know this person, I don’t know what overcame me last night, and I don’t know why I agreed to see him today.

“D’ya know what?” he asks

I turn and look at him. “Cold potatoes ain’t hot?” I reply.

“What?”

I give a small laugh, “Nothing, it’s just something my dad always says.”

“Right,” he says, sounding confused. “Anyway, yeah, nah, that’s not what I was gonna say.” He frowns at me for a few seconds. “Look, let’s just go have a walk along the beach so we can talk. Can we talk? Would you like to talk?” I nod. “Good, coz I’d like to talk, Georgia, and I’d like you to talk and tell me about yourself.” He looks at me intently.

“I’m sure you know all there is about me. Most of my life has been splashed over the front of a newspaper or magazine since I was about sixteen.”

He rakes his hand through his hair. “I don’t read newspapers often and when I do, I don’t really believe most of what’s written in them.” He winks at me and that little something re-ignites inside me. I can’t quite pinpoint where it’s centered; in my belly, my chest, my bones? I don’t really know.

“Let’s go for a walk on the beach then, Roman Peterson, and I will tell you the story of me.”

We grab some towels, put some beers in a cool bag and head down the street to the beach.



*



We throw our stuff down on the sand and both walk down to paddle our feet. Roman’s wearing boardies and a vest, but like me, he keeps all his clothes on. We walk out a little way and just stand, staring out at the ocean for a while.

“D’ya surf?” I ask without looking at him.

“Yeah, since I was a kid. My dad’s a really good surfer and taught me as soon as I could stand up.”

I nod my head. “Were you born here in Byron?”

“Yep, born and raised, then travelled around Europe for a year after I left school. I went to Imperial College in London for four years, got a degree under my belt, and came back here when I was twenty-five. Messed around for a bit while I decided what to do with my degree and then got offered a job over in Western Australia with a mining company; been with them for nine years now.”

I turn and look at him, as I know he’s looking at me. “Wow, so you’re like really brainy. Imperial College, don’t they have teams on University Challenge?”

He laughs and nods. “Yeah, I think they do, but I wasn’t on it. I did enough to get by. The rest of the time, I was in the pub, either drinking or playing my guitar.” I can’t believe that the first person I feel any kind of attraction to since Sean is a musician. My belly rolls over at that thought and I have an instant headache. Is that what this is all about? Am I just looking for another Sean?

The sun’s strong today, and I splash some water over each of my arms just for something to do while I churn that thought over and over in my mind.

“Let’s walk back so you can put some sunscreen on. The sun’s hot today.” I turn and start walking back, and Roman walks quietly beside me. I pull the suncream out of my beach bag and rub some on my arms and legs. I sit down on my towel as Roman stands in front of me, pulling off his vest and rubbing the suncream over his shoulders. I try not to look at his body, but it’s so f*cking perfect I can’t help it. He doesn’t have the spray-on-looking abs that Cam has, but there’s definitely a six-pack going on. He has toned arms and legs, and a broad chest. A fine smattering of chest hair runs all the way down and disappears into his shorts, right through the middle of that V-thing blokes have going on. His skin is a beautiful golden brown and is shining in the sun now that it’s covered in suntan lotion. He sits on the towel next to me and sighs deeply.

“So, Georgia, tell me about the story of you then, but just the bits you want to.” He lays down on his side and props himself up on his elbow, facing me. I look down at him and smile.

“My name is Georgia Rae Layton McCarthy and this is the story of me, the true version.” He gestures for me to wait a minute, then rolls over and pulls us a beer each out of the cool bag. He has a bottle opener attached to his keys and opens them both, puts them in a cooler each, or stubby holder as they call them here, and then passes me one. I take a long swig before starting my story. I tell him about my parents, my brothers and how I met Sean when I was just eleven. He asks questions every now and then, but mostly he’s quiet and just listens. I don’t go into great detail about me and Sean, and the subjects jump about. We talk about the countries we’ve been to and the bands we’ve seen. It’s almost like I’m just a normal woman, meeting a bloke and we’re just getting to know each other, without this whole other life that I’ve led ever happening. Like Jackson, Roman’s a good listener, but unlike Jackson, I don’t feel analysed when I talk to him.

After a while, he sits up and pulls a tin from a drawstring sports bag he’s brought with him. He opens it and then looks up at me.

“D’ya mind?” The tin contains rolling papers and weed and a few cigarettes. I shake my head.

“Go for it.”

The one thing I’ve learnt in the short time that I’ve been in Byron is that a lot of people smoke weed. I don’t know if it’s because of the markets and music festivals that go on locally that attracts people into the area who just happen to be into it, or if it’s just something that’s acceptable here. I’m not being judgmental about it; how could I be? I’d grown up around it, and where I came from, from the age of about fourteen or fifteen, everyone smoked the stuff. I just had never seen it done so openly anywhere else, other than Amsterdam, of course. And that thought leads me into another conversation with Roman. While he rolls a joint, we sit side by side on the beach, smoke it and talk about Amsterdam, the coffee houses, the red light area. The conversation is easy and I feel totally relaxed and at ease with him. When we’ve had enough sun, we pack up our things and wander back to the bar.