I used to go to surfin’ at Torquay or Jan Juc or Bell’s Beach with my flatmate. To tell the truth, Gazza was more than my flatmate. I was in love with him. He wasn’t in love with me though. Oh, he liked havin’ me around. And when he didn’t have a girlfriend over he was happy enough to fuck me. Sometimes when he did he’d even call out my name as he emptied himself into me. But when he’d picked up some chick at a bar he wouldn’t even talk to me when he got home with her. Too afraid of what his women would think about his ‘flatmate’, I reckon.

We would go down from the city on Friday evenin’s, and head back on Sunday afternoons, and we’d find a place to crash in one of the caravan parks or on the beach if it was the end of the month and we were short. I loved goin’ with him. He treated me like shit, but it beat stayin’ at home on my tod. The surfin’ almost made up for everythin’. I’d go out and for a while I had no problems, no worries. Just the sea, and the air, paddlin’ hard to catch a good break, then the magic of the slide along the face of the wave, the sea green and white around you, the board slicin’ through the water, crestin’ the water, makin’ you feel as if you were flyin’.

When I got tired I would strip off my wetsuit – the water was almost always freezin’, but often the sun was too warm on the thick black neoprene – and lie around on my towel enjoyin’ the scenery. Some blokes wear board shorts to surf in, but that’s in places where the water’s warm. Where it’s cold, you need a wetsuit, and board shorts are a pain underneath a wetsuit, they get all crumpled up and itch and irritate. So we used to wear speedos. I had a couple, but my favourite were sapphire, because they made my tan look better and matched my eyes and my blond hair. I liked the way they showed off my bum and my doings. The day I met Mattie, I was wearin’ the sapphire pair.

I noticed this guy sittin’ by himself on the sand, a couple of metres away. I’d been surfin’ since before dawn, when the sea is glassy and clear. It had turned into a perfect day, the air warm, but not too hot, like it can get here sometimes in summer, and just a faint sea breeze. I stripped off my wetsuit and lay down on my towel. I look at guys as well as chicks, but I try not to let the blokes see I’m doin’ it. I suppose you’d say I was bi, but the truth is that I loved Gazza and I thought that if I ever got someone else, I’d rather get a bloke than a woman. I didn’t want to get married and settle down. And though I loved women and fuckin’ women – that moment when you slide into a wet pussy has to be one of the best around – I didn’t want responsibility and all that stuff. I know. You can think what you like of me. And you’d have the last laugh, because in the end I did get married, and it was pretty good. It was fuckin’ fantastic. You just hafta find the right person.

Mattie was a looker, in both senses. He was amazin’ly handsome, with thick curly brown hair bleached tan at the ends by salt and sun, pale blue eyes, a straight, thin aristocratic nose, the kind of chin which still looks good even when you get jowls, a dancer’s neck column, shoulders like Superman, and pecs to match. He was wearin’ white nylon rugby shorts with short legs, the kind which let me see just how good his legs were – thighs firm and muscular, sprinkled with dark hair, calves sweetly curved, and nice feet. Laugh if you like, but I like good feet. He was a looker in the other way too. He looked at me, then away, then eyed some chicks walkin’ along in the sun, then looked back. I nodded when he looked the third time.

“G’day.” he said. His voice was a bit deep, a bit gruff and it kinda did things to my stomach. Gazza had fucked off somewhere like he did and I was on my own. Why not? I thought, I’m not married to Gazza. So I said “G’day” back.

“Beaut day, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You from round here?”

“Nah. The city. A flat in Carlton.” For some reason I didn’t mention my ‘flatmate’.

“Yeah I live in the city, mostly. You down just for the day, mate?”

“Weekend.”

“Is there anythin’ on tonight? Ya know, like a party?”

“Usually somethin’. We’ll ask around later.”

“Yeah, good. My name’s Mattie.”

“James.”

Mattie stood up, walked towards me, and reached out his hand. I sat up and shook it, lookin’ up at him. His face was shadowed. I couldn’t see his expression, just the flash of his white teeth against tanned skin.