‘Now this is more like it!’ Johnny said as they stepped down from the bus and looked around them. The streets were teeming with activity, snowboarders and skiers walking past in heavy boots and carrying kit. Everywhere was pillowy and white. The town sat another thousand metres higher up than Zell and snow-laden balconies and roofs were plumped up like cushions. Rows of wide-hipped chalets rippled down to a gorge and fast-flowing aquamarine river. Pretty lights crisscrossed the streets, a giant Christmas tree twinkled and shimmied in the full brightness of the day.
‘I think Santa’s come to town,’ Matty said as a couple of guys walked past in oversized elf onesies. One of them winked at her. ‘I’m beginning to feel pretty Christmassy. Aren’t you?’
Clover stared ahead, seeing nothing.
‘Earth to Clover.’
A hand was waved in front of her face, fingers clicking. ‘. . . Huh?’
Matty looked over at Johnny with a tut.
He put a fraternal arm around Clover’s shoulder. ‘Come on, let’s go find the apartment. And we should probably do a shop on the way too for some milk and bread . . . There’s no one to look after us here, more’s the pity.’
Clover realized her feet were moving, that she was actually going through the motions of being . . . fine. She looked like every other twenty-something here, but none of them could have done something as stupid as her. Who . . . who else could go against their own nature like that? The shock still sat within her body like a leprechaun, leaping about and making her startle as flashbacks played on a loop: his hands, his breath. I hate you too.
She looked up at the Swiss alps; they were rougher-cut than their Austrian neighbours, taller too. She could see the soaring beauty of the place but she couldn’t feel much. She kept going over it in her mind, trying to find the schism, the exact moment when she had lost herself – but she couldn’t. The two of them had seemed to fall towards one another like they were gliding on rails, coming from opposite directions and crashing violently, unstoppably. Her body kept shuddering involuntarily, goosebumps prickling her skin as she suddenly remembered that first feel of his leg in the water, his tongue in her mouth, his hands lifting her up . . .
Johnny’s arm squeezed around her shoulder. ‘Stop hating yourself,’ he murmured, reading her mind. ‘We’ve all slept with people we shouldn’t.’
Matty’s head whipped up. ‘Have we?’ she asked. ‘Who was yours? . . . Johnny?’
Two hours later, they were settled. The fridge had been stocked with the basics – OJ, milk, cheese, ham, vodka – and they had made up their own beds. But the mood had distinctly flatlined, Fin and Carlotta already sorely missed.
Their expulsion from the garden of Eden was sharply felt. Matty kept staring in dismay at the orange pine kitchen and pale blue Eighties tiles in the bathroom. The lino floor was curling in the corners and the mountain watercolour prints on the walls looked like they’d come from a charity store. The bed linen was pale primrose bobbled polyester and had given Matty such a charge of static that her fine hair was standing on end.
‘What? It was the best we could get with a few hours’ notice,’ Johnny said.
That wasn’t strictly true. There had been other lets available, but this one was all Clover could afford. The prices in this town had been eye-watering and she’d had to come up with something about Liam rebalancing their expenses budget to advertising instead. The original plan had been for them to stay with Kit and the team here too, but he had deliberately walked out on her. Them. Her . . . She wouldn’t go cap in hand, asking for their address.
‘But why can’t we just stay where they’re staying?’ Matty asked, sensing she was missing out on a five-star mini-break. ‘We are supposed to be living immersively. If Julian knew—’
‘But he doesn’t, and he doesn’t need to. It would only raise questions.’
‘But we were always supposed to stay with them.’
‘Yes. And now things have changed. Clearly,’ he said exasperatedly. ‘You can cope, Mats. You don’t have to be such a bloody princess about it.’
She gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. ‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. We’re staying here for a few nights. Deal with it. We’ll be back in Zell before we know it and you can go back to living in the style to which you’ve become accustomed, with Mr fucking Smooth.’
‘Don’t call him that!’
‘I’ll call him what I like,’ he shrugged.
There was an indignant pause. ‘What exactly is your problem?’ Matty demanded. ‘What’s Julian ever done to you to deserve your contempt? He’s been nothing but generous. Do you even know that he saved you from the humiliation of being publicly asked to wear a jacket in the hotel? He didn’t have to do that!’
‘I never asked him to!’
They glowered at one another, becoming slowly aware that they were waiting for something. That something was missing. Kids!
He glanced over at Clover. She was standing by the window, staring down at the street below. Seeing nothing.
A few seconds later, she felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Earth to Clover . . .?’
‘Oh yes!’ Matty sighed with satisfaction as they walked out of the gondola station and threw their skis and boards onto the snow. ‘I take it back. This is more like it.’
Clover stood beside her in silence. The snowpark was teeming with activity, music booming from giant speakers. Shouts and cheers pitched into the sky as people practised their tricks off the halfpipe and slopestyle runs. There was a big air jump with a giant airbag at the end and bodies were flying through the blue in various intricate contortions. There was an airbag by the halfpipe, too; it was the size of the one in Kaprun but seemed even sharper, more menacing, with edges that glinted like swords. The specialist pipe-carving machine, looking more like a weapon of war, sat parked to one side, ready to roll back in if repairs were required.
They watched for several moments, watching the boarders fly. It was more like aerial gymnastics than snowboarding, to Clover’s mind. The riders made it look effortless, as though all bodies should flex and reach and spin like that, but she knew now – from having watched Kit and Beau – the hours and hours and hours of training and drills they had to put in on the trampolines and ball pits before they could progress to the hard surfaces out here. This was training camp for the best of the best – the snowboarding elite, the alpha pack. Kit Foley wanted nothing more than to beat them; he wanted their approval and respect. Would he get it?
She poled off and sped down the piste before the others could even get their gloves on. Not if she could bloody help it.
*
Clover Phillips Have you been impressed by what you’ve seen him do?
Xander Bergstrom (Laughs) Man. (Laughs again) I mean . . . what . . . how do I answer that? I don’t wanna be a jerk but . . . I mean, he doesn’t look like he’s moving all that well . . . He’s pretty old, right?
C. P. Would you be surprised to hear he pulled off a Switch Backside 1260 nearly two weeks ago?
X. B. . . . Seriously?
*
Nina Heikkinen Well, the women’s tour’s pretty psyched, if you get my meaning. (Winks, sticks tongue out)
*
Yuki Watanabe He’s pretty quiet. He keeps himself to himself but I think he’s just staking us out. He knows eyes are on him.
C. P. From what you’ve seen, do you think he’s got what it takes?
Y. W. I’ve heard some rad stuff about him. I dunno, it’s not like I’ve really seen him much. He doesn’t move much off the pipe whereas I’m more about the aerials . . . But I’ve heard his brother is sick!
*
Mikey Schultz Is there any love for the guy? (Laughs) No.
C. P. Why d’you think that is?
M. S. He’s not a team player. He chose the wrong sport.
C. P. You went riding at Kaprun a couple of weeks back. Did you know he was going to be there?
M. S. Sure. It’s why I went. Why not? I was heading over here anyways so I thought I’d check him out. I’d been hearing some stuff.
C. P. And what did you think?
M. S. (Shrugs)
C. P. He rode straight after you; copied your ride trick for trick. Including the Switch Backside 1260. How did you feel about that?
M. S. It was a dick move. A flex.
C. P. Would you say the same if one of your crew had done it?
M. S. But he’s not. That’s the point. He’s all about Number One. He doesn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything and that’s a fact. That surf film showed it for sure. He’s not out here cos he loves it. He just wants to grind more faces in the snow.
C. P. Is that view shared by the other riders?
M. S. (Laughs) Hell yeah, it is! They know what he’s about.
C. P. Do you think he can make his mark at the elite level in this sport?
M. S. He’s an athlete. I guess he knows how to bring it. But if he’s come here looking for glory, or forgiveness . . . No one wants to know.
C. P. So you don’t think he deserves a second chance?
M. S. Nope. (Grins) I do, however, think I deserve your number for answering all your questions so good. I bet no one else has said it like it is.
C. P. You have been very candid. If I could just ask—
M. S. For my number? Sure. (Grins) Say, why you doing a film on him anyway? The guy’s old, and he’s old news. He won’t stick around here for long. You should be doing something on me. I’m the one to watch. I’m the one pushing it.
C. P. I’ll mention it to my producer. Thanks for your time today.
M. S. No worries . . . Seriously though, what are you doing later?
*
Annalise Shepherd I think, don’t rush to judge, y’know? I mean, he’s had some heavy shit to deal with.
C. P. Could you clarify what you mean by that?
A. S. Well, he got beat up the other week – you musta heard about that? And of course that’s all connected to the whole Cory Allbright thing. He can’t get away from it, can he?
C. P. Do you think he deserves to ‘get away’ from it? A lot of people hold him responsible for Cory’s death.
A. S. (Shakes head) Nah, that’s too simplistic. He made a bad call. But we all do. I bet Cory Allbright wasn’t no saint neither. But Kit, he’s been . . . branded with it; like he’s the whipping boy for the whole shebang. And who can live with that? I feel sorry for the dude. Things musta got pretty bad for him if he felt he had to change his entire sport. I mean, he was top of that tree in surfing, making a mint. You don’t just walk away from that.
C. P. Kit Foley had already left surfing before Cory Allbright died.
A. S. Yeah, but if you ask me, Cory Allbright had died long before his heart stopped beating. They were friends before. There’s no way Kit wasn’t affected.
C. P. You know a lot about his story.
A. S. We Aussies gotta stick together. Besides, I sorta used to have a one degree of separation thing going on with him. I used to get a bit of a scoop on his fiancée. (Rolls eyes) She was a peach.
C. P. Fiancée?
A. S. Yeah. Y’know, the model. Amy something. Does the swimwear catalogues. Blonde. Oh, you know the one – she’s all teeth and tits.
C. P. When you say you got a scoop on his fiancée . . .
A. S. Well, my physio at the time knew her agent. Used to let things slip now and then. It draws you in more when there’s that personal connection, doesn’t it? But this was all way back. It’s ancient history now. He’s a free agent again. (Winks)
C. P. Have you ever actually met Kit Foley?
A. S. Not yet. But I hear he just got here so . . . this is a small town, you know what I’m sayin’?
*
‘How can we not have known about this?’
‘Clo, I have never seen the words Kit Foley and fiancée in the same sentence,’ Matty pushed back. ‘Don’t you think I would have included it? It’s absolutely basic for pulling together a profile.’ Her french fries were getting cold but she couldn’t look away from Clover’s intense stare. ‘I would have included it if the information was out there, of course I would!’
Clover sat back in her chair. ‘There has to be something. This is the digital age! There is simply no way someone with his profile could have got away with a secret engagement.’
‘I had noticed he seems to be very coy about putting his personal life out there. For a guy who looks like he does, he’s very careful. From everything I’ve seen, he only ever turns up to events with Beau or another athlete. He had a few flings with some big actresses and did the red carpet thing a few times with them – but obviously none of those led anywhere. And yes, there’s pap shots of him with different women on the beach, driving around, whatever, but they just seem to be a string of one-hit wonders. The women never get named or identified, seemingly cos they never last long enough to be significant.’
‘Well, one did. Her name’s Amy. She’s a swimwear model. Aussie, it seems. Blonde. You’ve got to identify her. There will be a photo of her somewhere, probably taken before they got serious and he actively went to lengths to keep the relationship hidden. You need to look for what seems like a random pap snap.’
‘Why hide her, though?’ Johnny queried, biting into his burger.
‘Obvious – he didn’t want to risk losing his lusty fanbase,’ Matty drawled. ‘Look at any of the comp footage, those girls throw themselves at him.’
Clover felt sick to know that she had joined this dubious club. That she was one of the legion.
‘Well, if he hid this relationship, then he could have hidden others too,’ Johnny shrugged.
‘Agreed,’ Clover nodded, drawing herself back. They had a new lead on someone who could prove to be a prime character witness. Who else would know him better than the woman he had wanted to spend his life with? ‘We’ll start with her – Amy – and depending on when they were together, we can work back or forwards from there. Mats, just start going back through the photo files and look for anyone who matches her description.’
‘I hate to break it to you, but “blonde bikini model” is pretty much half the Aussie population.’
‘She also said white teeth, big tits.’
‘Again . . .’ Matty shrugged. ‘Those women are hot.’
Clover sighed. ‘Start making calls to the modelling agencies too, then. Try and get images of anyone called Amy on their books and cross-match them with faces in the files. Frankly, even just dropping Kit’s name alone could be enough.’
‘Unless this Amy doesn’t want to talk about him. Or be reminded of him. It could have ended badly between them.’
Johnny gave a small snort. ‘Could have?’
‘Okay, I’ll get on it. But why does she matter so much? She’s obviously not in his life now. She’s old news.’
‘Perhaps, but she’s one of the few people to know him intimately. His inner circle is pretty tight, so she could give us a vital new perspective on him . . . I also want to know when they were together. Does it overlap with the time of Cory’s accident? She might even be able to throw some insight onto what happened between them.’
‘Beau would be good on that, surely? He’s Kit’s shadow. The keeper of his secrets,’ Johnny said, taking another giant bite of his burger.
‘Oh, he’ll know. Will he tell, though, that’s the question?’ Matty asked. ‘Although he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. You could box him into a corner, Clo, I know you could.’
‘I’m trying to build a rapport with him. I can’t rush it, though – he spooks easily. But I do think possibly . . . he might be inclined to talk.’
Matty was quiet for a moment, her gaze caught on something across the room. She leaned in closer across the table. ‘Clo, hot guy giving you the eye, two o’clock,’ she whispered. ‘D’you know him?’
Clo looked over in bemusement. She didn’t know anyone here apart from them. A guy who looked familiar smiled back at her. She vaguely remembered those twinkling eyes. ‘. . . Oh. Yeah . . . We interviewed him earlier. He’s the American – Mikey something.’
‘Schultz. The twenty-five-year-old Olympian. It’s just a small thing, but yeah, forget his name, why don’t you?’ Johnny quipped.
Clover laughed at his sarcasm. ‘Hey! Just because you care about this stuff, doesn’t mean I have to.’ She looked back at her plate, forgetting instantly about the flirty American. ‘. . . What were we talking about?’
‘Beau,’ Johnny muttered, dipping his fries into some ketchup.
‘Oh yeah . . . Did I tell you he’s convinced someone set Kit up? With the fight outside the restaurant, I mean.’
‘Oh good, that’ll help with Kit’s paranoia.’ Johnny rolled his eyes.
‘Who would your money be on?’ she asked them both, biting into a gherkin.
‘You mean, who set him up? I guess it depends.’
‘On?’
‘What their intention was. Were they random Cory die-hards who took advantage of the opportunity to give him a good kicking?’
‘Nup – they had banners. It was planned,’ Matty said firmly.
‘Well, then, if their intention was to make him look bad and get some bad press for him . . . who benefits most from trashing him?’ Johnny murmured, before breaking into a small laugh. ‘. . . You, clearly. Like you said, it was cinema gold.’
‘Not worth getting knocked out for, though,’ Clover said, flashing a sarcastic grin.
‘Well, there’s obviously no upside for anyone related to him in a business or commercial capacity,’ Matty said. ‘Julian’s been frantic trying to pick up the pieces. And Ari and Tipper must be spitting nails. What’s bad for Kit is bad for them.’ She gave a giant shrug as she ran out of ideas. ‘. . . So maybe it really was some Cory die-hards who knew he was in the area. Followed him. Planned the whole thing.’
‘Or maybe it was Beau?’ Clover posited.
The others looked at her with a frown. ‘But you just said he’s the one convinced it was an ambush,’ Matty said.
‘Yeah.’
‘So then . . .?’ Matty looked confused.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Clover sighed. ‘I just wondered if he might be saying that to point suspicion away from himself. It’s pretty obvious the ambush can’t have been a coincidence. Someone orchestrated it.’
‘But what would Beau have to gain from stitching up his brother?’
‘Only everything! He’s spent his entire life in Kit’s shadow. He loves being in the mountains, he’s a natural. Everyone here’s talking about how good he is, I’ve heard some of them asking why he’s not going pro. He’s younger, more flexible . . . But all the time it’s about Kit, Kit, Kit. Beau never gets a look-in. And we all saw that blow-up with Ari. The guy’s frustrated. His life is passing him by. What does he have that’s actually his?’
The others were quiet.
‘No . . . that’s not reason enough to get his brother beaten up!’ Johnny said after a pause. ‘My brother and I fought like rabid pitbulls but I’d still never let anyone else lay a finger on him.’
‘So maybe it’s someone from Kit’s past, then,’ Matty suggested. ‘An old rival?’
‘Who has access to his movements now?’ Clover looked doubtful. ‘That restaurant was down a back street. What happened wasn’t an accident – they knew he was there.’ She picked up her glass of wine and pressed her palm against it. ‘I can’t work out who, or why,’ she sighed, ‘but someone’s out to get him.’