The Fearful Read Online Free

over, remembering they’d both spent a late night in the bar at WetFun, coming back loud and drunk after midnight.
    He stood at their table, watching Gully shovel the food down while Scott summoned the courage to start. He felt small and young and embarrassed. And he hated it. The familiar resentment towards his father was soaking up into him, feet first, as though he were a sponge for it.
    Scott was looking at him and Tim shrugged quickly to hide his awkwardness at hovering there. He said, ‘You look like you could do with an aspirin or something.’ It was just so he had something – anything – to say.
    Gully grinned and jabbed his fork at his friend. ‘You look like shit.’
    Scott nodded as though it hurt. ‘Yeah. Déjà vu.’
    Gully laughed through a mouthful of sausage, louder than Tim thought was necessary, but he tried to join in on the joke by laughing as well because he wanted to be liked by them. He’d heard Gully say ‘Who cares?’ at least half a dozen times when they arrived yesterday afternoon. Tim could easily imagine being one of them himself some day.
    The kitchen door swung open and Jenny appeared withJack Spicer’s breakfast. Gully, Scott and Tim all watched her. And it was obvious she knew she was being watched because colour rose up her neck to her cheeks. She served Mr Spicer quickly but politely, and still without once looking at the students’ table she asked the American couple if everything was okay for them (‘We’re fine, honey. Just fine,’ Sylvie beamed); only then did she turn and scowl at Tim. All he could do was scowl back as she disappeared into the kitchen again.
    He continued to hover, not wanting to say anything more, but knowing he couldn’t escape back into the kitchen until he did.
    Scott broke the yolk of his egg with his knife and let it ooze across his plate. He looked up at Tim as if he’d forgotten he was there and raised his eyebrow by way of a question.
    â€˜Aspirin?’ Tim asked. ‘Can I get you one?’
    Scott shook his head. ‘I’ll survive.’
    But Tim couldn’t go anywhere just yet. Gully was also watching him now, so he said, ‘You’re windsurfing then?’
    â€˜That’s the plan.’
    He nodded. ‘Great.’ The awkwardness was making him hot. ‘So . . . How did you know about this place? It’s a bit out of the way.’
    â€˜I’ve been here before,’ Scott said. ‘Came here when I was in my first year.’
    â€˜Yeah? Why?’ Maybe he wouldn’t have to explain things after all.
    â€˜I was doing a Geology degree, before it got too boring. But it’s a weird shape or something – weird rock formationsalong the shore? – and we had to discover why it happened thousands of years ago. Big waste of time, really, if you ask me. But isn’t it meant to be deeper than anywhere else around here too?’
    â€˜That’s right, yeah. It’s really deep.’
    â€˜So they said. Weird shape, but deep. A bit like Gully.’
    His friend grinned at him but didn’t stop chewing.
    Tim was smiling furiously, wanting desperately to ingratiate himself. ‘Yeah, yeah. It used to be called the Hundredwaters, because it was so deep. You know, people say, “It’s as deep as one hundred waters.” Nobody’s ever seen what’s at the bottom.’
    Scott shrugged. ‘I just remember that it rained all the time, and it was ridiculously cold, freezing, so half of us went to the pub anyway. Geology wasn’t for me. But that’s how I knew about the water-sports club.’
    Gully suddenly joined in. ‘Last night the guy who runs the place said we could use a couple of the jet-skis if we wanted. I’m up for that.’
    Tim nodded as if it was the most interesting fact he’d ever heard. ‘Great.’
    â€˜You must have been a few times,’ Scott said. ‘You