Everything to Live For: The Inspirational Story of Turia Pitt Read Free Page B

happened. At my twenty-first we got around to telling each other how much we liked each other but it didn’t go further.
    Michael grew up a few kilometres from Ulladulla in a place called Narrawallee. His parents, Gary and Julie, are really cool and he has a younger brother, Aaron, and sister, Shae. After he left school he went overseas for a while and when he came back he joined the New South Wales Police Force. He was stationed at Maroubra, where I was living with my grandma, and I’d sometimes inadvertently run into him. We never dated then but I always had Michael at the back of my mind.
    In 2009 Mum got married again – to a local guy, John Macguire, a former New South Wales representative rugby league player. He was a widower whose wife had died of cancer when they were living in France, where he was playing rugby league for different clubs. He had a daughter, Victoria, who was in the same year as Genji at school. John worked as a carer at a nursing home in nearby Milton, which is probably a good indicator of his nature. They had a big, traditional Tahitian wedding and I was very happy for Mum. They had bought a cottage overlooking Lake Burrill, which is five minutes from Ulladulla. The following year Dad also remarried. Dad and Karen had an intimate and lovely wedding at McKell Park, at Sydney’s Darling Point.
    After uni finished at the end of 2009, I went home to Ulladulla for a few weeks’ break before starting my work placement in the New Year. I met up with Briggs and some other friends and they told me there was a party on. I will never forget the date: Friday 11 December. When I came out of my bedroom wearing a white skirt over a blue leotard and with my long hair out, Mum said, ‘Woo hoo, you look hot tonight. Are you going to kiss anyone?’
    ‘Only if Michael Hoskin is there,’ I said. I’d had enough of something almost happening so I thought, ‘Tonight I’m going to kiss him.’
    He was there. I told Briggs that ‘tonight was the night’. And it was. I kissed him and told him I wanted to have his children. He laughed but in a nice way. One of the things I liked about him was that he was so low key and casual. It was a great night and I ended up going back to his place on the proviso that there was no funny business. I remember waking up in the morning feeling just so happy that we’d finally got together. When he dropped me off at Mum’s later, he said he would phone me from Sydney on Tuesday. I waited all day on Tuesday, my heart sinking as the day went on, thinking he was not going to call. He finally phoned at 8 o’clock that night. And that was the beginning.
    The next year was extra busy but great. Michael was living in Cronulla with a couple of flatmates. I was again finding flatting too expensive and I moved from Bondi back to Grandma’s in March. I get on quite well with my grandma – she is an intelligent old duck with impeccable taste. I also found her house to be a good break from flatting with friends. Furthermore, it was only a couple of blocks away from Maroubra Beach.
    I had some bad luck with cars that year. I’d bought a Holden Commodore but it got written off when a woman crashed into me. I then got a little blue Mazda 121 and that got written off when I ran up the back of someone when they stopped suddenly at traffic lights. I replaced it with another Mazda 121, a white one.
    Michael and I didn’t surf in Sydney because we didn’t like it – the surf was better and less crowded down the coast. When Michael got his days off, we’d do the three-hour drive down to Ulladulla and go surfing or diving off his boat. He had an 18-foot cabin boat and we’d go out and free-dive for lobsters or abalone. We’d stay at Michael’s place, which was just south of Ulladulla, but we didn’t see much of anyone because we were so active. We’d come home and have something to eat and go for a surf; come home and have something to eat and go for a dive; come home have something to