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Bevan said, looking at Josh meaningfully.
    Josh stared back.
    “Come on, Bevan, we’ve got to go,” Rhys said.
    “Sure thing.”
    Gina took her arm from around Bevan’s waist and began to make her way up the beach. Bevan turned to follow her, then twisted around unexpectedly and lurched towards Josh as if to headbutt him. Josh jumped away from the imitation blow, tripped over his board and fell onto the sand.
    Bevan laughed as he walked away. Gina giggled. Josh watched them as they walked up the beach and got into the black convertible.
    He pushed himself off the sand, picked up his surfboard and looked at the waves. There was refuge in the water. Nothing could touch him out there. He took his board and ran into the sea.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    The wave came from nowhere. It rose up behind him and kept on rising. He couldn’t get out from beneath it. He clung to the rails of his surfboard and closed his eyes. The water crashed on top of him and pushed him under; tumbling him over and over until he didn’t know which way was up or down. His board was ripped from his hands. He was in a hole. He couldn’t get to the top. There was water in his nose and mouth. He was drowning.
     
    Josh woke with a gasp. It took a few seconds to realise he was in his bed at the bach. He wasn’t in the water. He wasn’t drowning. It was that dream again. The second time in two days. He tried to slow his laboured breathing. He was tangled up in his sheets. He threw them off and sat up. His hands were clammy and shook. The dream had been so real.
    His muscles were tight. Because of Bevan’s interruption, he hadn’t stretched properly the day before and he’d stayed in the water longer than he intended. Now he was as stiff as his surfboard. He got out of bed slowly, testing each cramped muscle and the more he moved, the easier it became. He dressed and left his bedroom in search of breakfast. At least his appetite was back.
    Josh found his mother curled up in an armchair with a magazine and a cup of coffee. “I wondered when you were going to get up,” she said.
    He glanced over at the clock, thinking it was late, but it was only 9.00 a.m. He put milk and cereal into a bowl and sat at the table to eat it.
    “Where’s Dad?” he asked.
    “He’s taken Cyndi to the Gap. It’s low tide about now and he thought it would be a good place to take her for a swim before the sun got too hot.”
    “Why didn’t you go?”
    “I just needed time to myself. You were fast asleep and I just wanted to sit and enjoy the sunshine. It’s been so stressful with packing and Christmas and everything.”
    Josh nodded in agreement. Outside the air was clear and calm and he guessed that there’d be no decent surf that day, not even with the incoming tide. He might as well take it easy and give his muscles time to ease off.
    “I think I’ll catch up with Dad,” he said as he finished his cereal.
    “Good idea. You should meet him coming back. And don’t forget sunscreen,” his mother reminded him as he headed for the door.
    “Sure,” he sighed, pumping sunblock into his palm from the bottle that sat on a shelf by the front door.
    When he reached the road, he looked carefully left and right for any sign of the black convertible, but the road was empty. Bevan hadn’t figured out where he lived and wasn’t waiting to jump him as soon as he appeared.
    South Piha Beach was quiet when he got there. The lifeguards had put up the flags demarcating the swimming area and only a few swimmers had ventured in. There were no surfers in the water; the surf was too small and messy and it was going to be a day for the bathers. He recognised one of the lifeguards standing by the inflatable rescue boat on the beach and walked over to him.
    “Hi, Chris,” he said.
    “Oh, hi, Josh,” Chris said, looking up. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.”
    “I took a job in the city for Christmas, so I couldn’t get down as much.”
    “So what are you up to