Sunday, July 199x

On Sunday morning, five of us wake up in Felice's house, the three of us, Spike, Felice and I, plus two. Felice got Tully to drive us home and insisted on bringing Len with her. Axel is away on a business trip, something else my parents don't know.

"I've to get back," Len says when he's polished off a mug of coffee. "The lads are going to the beach today."

"We'll come too," Felice says. "Tully will drop us over, won't you?"

"Sure," Tully replies with a smile. "I'm not doing anything else."

"I see you brought an entourage," Mac says to Len when we all pile out of the car in front of the house. It looks bigger in the bright sunlight, without all the party-goers. "Baz still isn't here."

"Relax, it's Sunday," Len says soothingly. "He'll be down later. He won't miss the rehearsal tonight."

"Jenna has him under her thumb, " Mac grumbles. "Jesus, I thought he'd a bit more spunk than that. She must have something he's not telling us about." He grins at Felice and I as the rest of the band chuckle. "But I sure as hell can't see what it is."

"Don't mind Mac," Len winks at us. "He didn't get much sleep last night."

Mac laughs and punches Len's shoulder. "I wasn't the only one, eh?"

Mac throws his towel into the back of the van and the rest of the band jump in. Felice and I watch Len climb in to the middle seat beside Mac. I wish I could be sitting there instead. There's no sign of the blonde girl today. It's just the band and us. Felice doubtless wishes she was in the van too. Instead we're stuck with Tully in his mother's car.

"Do you think they mind us tagging along?" Tully asks as we follow the van out of Drimshanra towards the coast.

"Why would they?" Felice shrugs.

"Well, you know, Mac wasn't too happy back there."

"Yeah, but that was to do with Baz and rehearsals. And Len says he's like that, always going off on one. Don't worry, the beach is for chilling, the more the merrier. Anyway, it's Sunday and there's nothing else to do."

I say nothing. Arguing with Felice is never a good idea, but I wonder if she's right. Mac didn't tell us not to come, but he didn't exactly make us welcome either.

"All that matters is we're going too," Spike says. "You didn't want to be left behind, did you?" 

He's right as usual.

It's always seemed so dreary before, this beach, silent and grey, windswept and desolate, stinking of seaweed drying out along the tideline, but today it's beautiful, sunshine, sparkling water and waves crashing with just enough force to be fun. 

I never normally want to go into the water, but, for once, I can't resist the lure and am beckoned towards it. I take off my docs, roll up my skirt and wade out into the water, glad my legs are shaved . 

Spike remains behind. He doesn't do wet, but Felice plunges in, wearing a fluorescent high-cut bikini she got in London. I watch as Mac eyes her ample curves, wishing I'd brought a swimsuit, though I usually prefer to be covered up.

My clothes give a clear message.

Keep your distance.

I get hassled anyway. More than you'd think. It's what happens to the female of the species.

Showing off to Mac though, that would be different.  Maybe next time, I'll bring my black bikini.

Len has stripped down to a pair of long, faded beach shorts and Felice is laughing and yelling as he splashes her with water.

Somebody comes up behind me and a strong pair of arms encircle me.

Before I've time to react, my feet are swept from under me.

With a splash, I land in the water.

Squealing as I go under.

Though shallow, the water is freezing and goes up my nose.

I come up coughing and spluttering, gasping for air.

Everyone is roaring with laughter.

What happened?

I blink the water from my eyes and shake my hair so that droplets spray everywhere.

My dress is stuck to me.

Mac.

"You shoulda' worn a swimsuit, doll!" His grin is wicked.

Doll, is that compliment? A voice inside my head tells me it isn't, but I try to ignore it.

Instead, I look around.

Tully is staring at me, as though I'm naked, as though I'm the first naked woman he's ever seen.

I walk out slowly and make my way up the beach to Spike, who hands me a towel.

"That was some exit," he says. "You looked like Venus emerging from the waves."

"Bullshit," I reply. "Venus was blonde."

He gives a short laugh. "You don't know how good-looking you are, Kit. You drive them all crazy."

It's new this power. I never had it before and I don't fully believe in it. It feels dangerous, exciting too, scary most of all. Is that why Mac dropped me in the water? With a shiver that has nothing to do with being cold or wet, I relive the warmth of his hands on my waist, the brief intimacy of his touch.

By the time I've towelled myself off, I'm no longer Venus. You can only be a goddess for a moment. The sand has stuck to my dress, my hair is tangled and I look more like an abandoned cast away than a newly-created goddess.

Mac barely throws me a second glance when he spreads himself out to dry ten minutes later. But Tully comes and sits beside me and I can tell, by the way he can't take his eyes off me, I still look like a goddess to him.

Spike nudges me and points the word he's written in the sand.

Smitten!

He grins and wipes his hand across it, erasing it.

"What?" Tully asks when he sees us both looking at him.

"Nothing." We respond too quickly, too close together.

Felice and Len have disappeared. I know better than to go looking for them, but I wish she wouldn't do this. I wish she'd stay with us, with Spike and me.

Mac lies on his back, dozing in the sun and I remember he didn't get much sleep last night.

Some of the guys are playing ball further down the beach and Spike wanders over to watch. A few minutes later, he's in earnest conversation with one of the band. Spike is a great listener. He can make you feel like he really cares about what you're saying. It's how he picks up so much information.

"Would you like me to play some music for you?" Tully asks.

"Sure."

He goes to get his guitar out of the boot of the car and we sit a little away from the rest of them in the dunes. Part of me hopes Mac will wake up, notice I'm gone, and be jealous, the rest of me is aware he won't and even if he does, he won't care.

Tully's music is simple and light, yet there is a melancholy undertone.

"That's lovely," I say, surprised.

"I can't find words to go with it," he replies. "Tunes fill my head, spilling out of me, but I get stuck on the lyrics."

"How about...?" I hesitate and then start giving Tully fragments from the long conversations I make up in my head, where Mac and I talk to each other and the words flow and it's like we can read each other's minds. It helps to speak my emotions aloud.

"Hey, that's great!" Tully has no way of knowing where it's coming from. To him, it's just a play with words and trying to fit them to his music is like a puzzle.

He responds with something else. His words are happier, airier, but the balance with mine, which are heavy with darkness and sorrow, works well.

I take out a notebook and pen.

Before we know it, we've sketched out a song.

"Do you mind if I work on this?" Tully says.

"Of course not." I glance at the page as I tear it out and my heart almost stops as I read the words that are left. 

We are the lost generation, born to run wild,

Children of chaos in a dead end town,

A life of desperation, disenchantment,

Lost in quiet obscurity and the hidden darkness of my mind.

Only you could cast the light, only you could turn the key, 

Only you could set me free.

These lyrics aren't about Mac. They are about Aonghus, trapped for eternity.

I pass the page to Tully. "Use whatever you want, I was only speaking aloud. And lots of the words are yours. You were answering me."

"It's like a dialogue," Tully says. "I wonder if it should be a duet." He looks at me, a question in his eyes.

"No way!" My hands flutter in protest. "I can't sing to save my life."

"Yet you understand music."

"I don't, not really. I just like playing with words. You're the one who understands the music."

"This could be really good." He looks so hopeful and I wish he was right. A song he could turn into a hit would be his dream come true, but life doesn't work like that and we both know it.

The afternoon fades as the sea rolls in and out, the tide drawing near. When the waterline comes precariously close to the van, it's time to go.

"Baz had better be back," Mac mutters, as we pack up. "We need to rehearse."

"Maybe Tully can stand in, if you need someone," Spike says. "He plays the guitar."

I should have guessed Spike would be listening. He can never keep his nose out of anything. It's one reason why he ends up in hospital so often.

"It had better not come to that," Mac frowns. "Besides, Baz is good."

"Tully's good too." I don't know why I say it. It just sort of slips out, but Tully looks at me with so much gratitude I wish I'd kept my mouth shut. He's a nice guy but I don't want to lead him on.

Mac, however, looks interested, like he listened to what I said, like he's taking it seriously and that makes me happy inside, a warm feeling that spreads through my stomach.

"Ok," he says. "But Baz will be there. I know he will."