Samantha
A gust of wind buffeted against Samantha’s blue and silver climb suit. She tightened her grip on the cable, which held her to the railing of the vast steel structure, and concentrated on keeping pace with their climb leader, Chloe. Why they couldn’t have watched the sunset from the rooftop of the hostel rather than climbing 1,332 steps to the very top of the bridge frame, she didn’t know.
When they’d first entered the climb facilities at the base of Sydney Harbour Bridge, the late-afternoon sun had been bearing down on them. It had seemed ridiculous that they would need another layer, especially one in the same stifling material as a wet suit, and especially one so unflattering, on her at least. Jaddi and Lizzie’s climb suits had clung to their bodies, accentuating Jaddi’s lithe figure and Lizzie’s petite frame. Samantha, on the other hand, was pretty sure she’d been given a man’s suit, given how it bulged and sagged in all of the wrong places.
So instead of basking in the sinking sun, spreading its egg-yolk-orange glow across the harbour, and the city beyond, she was focusing the majority of her attention on keeping as many steps ahead of Harrison as she could, so that his own views didn’t include a close-up of her bottom.
As they reached the summit and stood in the centre of the archway, Samantha turned back to face the way they’d come. Her eyes scanned the ground, now far below, for the distinctive silhouette of Ben and his camera. With part of the harbour now obscured in shadow, nothing but ant-like specs could be distinguished. Even the traffic crossing the bridge looked no bigger than the toys in a Kinder Egg.
‘OK, climbers,’ Chloe called out, ‘gather round for your group photo.’
Jaddi sidled next to her, wrapping one arm around Samantha’s shoulders and linking her other arm with Harrison.
‘Smile,’ Chloe said.
Samantha pulled her lips back into what she hoped would pass for a smile and wished the experience would end.
‘I can’t believe you’ve done this three times,’ Lizzie said, gazing at Harrison.
‘Are you kidding? I’d do this every week if it didn’t cost so much moolah.’
Lucky you didn’t have to pay then, Samantha thought, biting back the comment before it could leave her mouth.
It turned out that she wasn’t OK with Harrison’s sudden and constant appearance in their group, arriving when they were still in their pyjamas and groggy with sleep, and only leaving when one of them (usually her) told him to go.
There had been an amusing moment on their second day in Sydney when Harrison had suggested to Ben that he ‘bunk down’ in Ben’s dorm room to save himself the journey back and forth to ‘the rellies’ every day. Ben had replied in a deadpan tone, ‘That’s never going to happen, mate.’ He’d accentuated the word ‘mate’ just enough to leave Samantha wondering if she wasn’t the only one vexed by the new addition to their group.
Then there was his constant use of slang words which none of them understood. In all of their conversations with other Australians, whether from Sydney, or visiting from another part of the country, no one had used a single slang word, so why did Harrison drop them into every sentence? What was he trying to prove? It would be like Samantha highlighting the fact that she was from London by conversing in cockney-rhyming slang.
‘I think once will be enough for me,’ Lizzie said, turning slowly around and gazing at the view.
‘It’s a shame Ben’s missing this,’ Jaddi said.
‘I don’t think Ben was particularly disappointed.’ Lizzie smiled. ‘Did you see his face when they said he couldn’t bring his camera? I’d say he was relieved to be keeping his feet on the ground.’
‘He could’ve come anyway,’ Jaddi said. ‘I’m sure Caroline wouldn’t have minded if he’d have stopped filming. This is too spectacular to miss.’
‘It’s totally different up here at sunset, that’s for sure,’ Harrison said, pulling Lizzie towards him and drawing her into another kiss.
Samantha hated how he’d inserted himself among them; an interloper in surfer’s clothing hijacking their trip, and worst of all hijacking Lizzie. It was this last thought which made Samantha loathe herself to her very core. Her very best friend, the reason she was on this trip in the first place, was happy, and if anyone deserved to be happy it was Lizzie. If anyone deserved to fall head over heels in love with a hunky Australian, it was Lizzie. So why did it irk Samantha so much? Was it as simple and pathetic as jealousy?
‘I’ll be sad to leave Sydney,’ Jaddi said. ‘It’s such an amazing place, especially with our very own tour guide.’ She winked at Harrison.
‘Gotta try surfing though, and the Gold Coast is the place to do it. Not so many shark attacks.’
Lizzie frowned. ‘I’d prefer it if you said “no shark attacks”.’
‘Babe, I’ll be there to punch the suckers on the nose if they come near us.’
‘Umm,’ Samantha nodded. ‘Punch them on the nose, that sounds like a foolproof plan for fending off a shark attack.’
‘Don’t knock it, Sammy, I’ve seen it work.’
‘Really?’ Lizzie asked without any hint of sarcasm. Samantha was starting to miss Lizzie’s abrasive comments.
‘Yep.’ Harrison grinned. ‘I was with Jimbo and Lance …’
Samantha stepped to the other side of the arch, and out of earshot of Harrison’s story. Her eyes focused on the soft afternoon sunlight casting long stretching shadows of the bridge on the river.
She ground her teeth together, her head reeling from his comment. Sammy? Since when was that a name? It was no better than when he’d called her Sally. She was a Samantha, and very occasionally, and only to Jaddi and Lizzie, she was Sam. Never ever was she Sammy.