“Woohooo!” I scream at him, throwing my fist in the air.

He is up on his board again, lying the full length of it, ready to paddle back out. He salutes me.

“Fuck all this playing in the white water nonsense. I want to catch me a wave,” I say to no one in particular. I paddle out to where Micheál and a couple of other surfers are, right at the where the waves break, and sit on my board waiting for a ride. The other surfers nod their hellos and go back to their conversation.

“It’s been a bit gnarly lately but it’s come good. Some of those earlier ones would dump unexpectedly, ye have to be careful,” says a young guy with red hair.

I nod as though I know what he’s talking about, and Micheál grins at me. We sit there for a while in silence between sea and sky, swaying on our boards. Suddenly, there’s a bit of a kerfuffle. Without speaking, the others turn their boards around and start paddling like their lives depend on it.

I do the same. I feel the swell of the wave coming up behind me and my board being lifted up onto a cliff-face. I paddle with all I have, and without thinking too much, I jump into a crouch on my board and somehow manage to stand up. It’s like I’m flying and riding that wave at a million miles an hour. It’s only when I think, Fuck, I’m surfing! that I fall off; and when I surface, Micheál is there laughing and hugging me.

“That was awesome, girl!”

“I know!” I splutter, my arms wrapped around his neck. I kiss him full on the mouth. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. He nuzzles my nose with his and we stay like that for a long minute. “Wanna get some lunch?”

“Sure,” I say and we ride our boards back to shore.

Back on the beach we find the cooler, a blanket, towels and even an umbrella.

“Siobhán thinks of everything,” he says appreciatively. We drape the towels around our shoulders and drop to the blanket, leaning into one another for body heat.

“She’s a good friend,” I say, sniffing hard in case there’s snot dripping from my nose. Not so sexy…

It’s obvious that Micheál and Siobhán are more than just friends and I don’t necessarily mean in the romantic sense. The way Micheál talks about her, you’d swear they were family or something. Not that it’s any of my business; I’m leaving in a day or two and will likely never see this guy again.

 “She’s the best,” he says simply.

I feel a ridiculous pang of jealousy, but manage to keep my congenial tone. “How long have you known her?”

“My whole life. We’ve been friends forever and now we’re business partners.” He tells me about them meeting in school when they were seven or eight and about how she was a tomboy back then and would beat up any boy who called her a girl. As he’s talking, he’s removing things from the cooler. He takes the top off a thermos flask and pours a thick orange liquid into a cup for me. I wait until he serves himself. “Here’s luck!” he says raising his cup to me. I drink the liquid and find it’s soup. It’s delicious. “Wow, what’s in this?” I ask, intrigued.

“Bit of everything,” he says smiling. “Pumpkin, sweet potato, carrot, lentils…”

“It’s delicious. Where’d ye buy it? Is it local?” I drain my cup.

Micheál laughs, “I made it.”

“Seriously?” I do my serious face.

“Seriously.” He has a similar expression.

“Careful, I might fall in love with you.” I laugh.

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

I blush. I actually blush. Not knowing what to say or do, I look out at the waves. “Does Siobhán surf?” I’m eager to change the subject.

“She does.”

“Is she good?”

“She’s a pro. It’s part of the reason we started the business — to support her professional career. But unfortunately, with the economy the way it’s been an’ all, business hasn’t been too good and we’ve had the bank manager breathing down our necks, threatening to close us down.”

“Shit.” I stare out at the waves again.

“Try this.” Micheál offers me a plate of fried rice and vegetables. It is out of this world.

“Did you make this too?” I ask, incredulous.

He nods. “I like to cook. That’s what makes Siobhán and me perfect flatmates; she hates cooking.”

“Lucky Siobhán.” I have renewed admiration for the girl.

The lunch is amazing and a little later on, as the afternoon sun is beginning its retreat, I’m lying across Micheál’s stomach enjoying the sound of the sea and his steady presence. I get up on my elbow. “One more surf?”

He looks out at the waves. “I dunno, it’s getting kinda late.”

“Go on! I won’t get another chance, maybe ever…” My bottom lip protrudes slightly.

“Ah, go on then. How can I say no to that? Race ye!”

We grab the boards and are in the water before we even have time to register the cold. I paddle out, determined to break my last record and catch an even bigger wave. I think of Siobhán which spurs me on, even though I know it’s ridiculous to even try to compete with her.

There’s a nice series of waves coming in. I paddle furiously and pounce into a crouch position. So far so good. Biting my lip in concentration, I get into standing position and manage to stay on. The wave is big and I feel as though I’m going even faster than last time. I shriek with joy.

But then I see another surfer coming my way on another wave. What do I do?

He’s screaming at me, waving his arms.

I do nothing.

I stand there frozen but flying through space, that is until his board clips the top of mine as he passes.

I’m thrown up in the air, and the last thing I see is my board coming down after me. Then wallop! I try to keep my eyes open but I can’t. I’m tumbling down through the surf. My last thought is a calm one. I’m going to drown.

But I’m wrong; I’m not going to drown today because I’m with Micheál. He dives into the water and follows the line of my leash pulling me back up to the surface. I’m coughing and spluttering and my lungs are burning.

He just keeps repeating “It’s okay. Ye’re okay,” over and over again. He leaves one arm on the board and the other on me, paddling us back in. When we get to shore he carries me up onto dry sand and lays me down gently. The lifeguard is there with his first-aid kit.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” I try to say, embarrassed to have gotten into this situation.

Micheál is looking down at me, his face tight with concern.

I have a bit of a bump on my head, but they check me out and I’m declared fit enough to go home via the local doctor to rule out concussion. I agree and Micheál helps me to the truck. I do admittedly feel like shit.

The doctor checks my pupils and asks me a lot of questions and says that I should be okay to return to the B&B, but that he’s to be called if there are any changes overnight. Mrs. O’Grady makes a big fuss and Ridlee cannot do enough for me, even though I have returned without her clothes.

I feel very spoilt and very loved, and when it comes to saying goodnight to my knight in shining armour I’m quite gooey inside. I walk him to the front door of the B&B.

“Sorry for wrecking our date.” I tilt my chin up to his.

“Sorry for nearly killin’ ye.” He brushes his lips against mine.

“And I’m sorry about the business, too. I didn’t really know what to say earlier. It’s your baby. You’ve built it up and you might lose it. I do know how that feels.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me. In fact, I got an interesting offer yesterday from Cathal downstairs, that might get us on our way to being debt-free. An old friend of my grandfather’s has left me some money. Some kind of business, but apparently it’s not so great, so I’m selling my share.” He kisses me again. “Anyway, you just concentrate on getting a good night’s rest. Sweet dreams.” And with that he turns and walks toward the truck.

“Micheál! What’s your last name?” I ask, terrified of the answer.