Clover pushed through the revolving doors, Matty following her a few steps behind, nodding at the doorman who raised his hat to them. It was snowing lightly as they walked past the illuminated Christmas tree and crossed the road. It was dark now, but even without the mega-wattage thrown down from the giant tree, she could have found them by the glowing butts of their cigarettes, hovering in a cluster like fireflies.
‘You’re absolutely sure about this?’ Matty asked her in a low voice as they drew closer.
Clover could only nod. She felt like her heart wanted to leap from her chest. She stopped in front of the press pack like she was standing before wolves. They were in off-duty mode, lens caps on the cameras. Sprawled in a loose band, they were smoking, drinking coffees, chatting on their phones. One of them noticed the two women standing before them, not passing. He gave a bored, faintly quizzical look.
Matty straightened up, impressively tall and intimidatingly beautiful. ‘This is Clover Phillips, the BAFTA and Golden Globe-winning documentary-maker who produced the film Pipe Dreams about the surfer, Cory Allbright.’
Cory’s name registered immediately; just like that, eyes were on them. The reporters knew exactly Cory’s relationship and history with Kit Foley.
‘Ms Phillips has come to make a statement.’
Suddenly, the slack band of men became taut and alert, hands reaching for lens caps, switching on voice recorders. Clover reached for her backpack too and pulled out the laptop. There were a few sheets of paper held in place beneath the cover and she opened it carefully, not wanting anything to escape before time. She looked back at the men. The cameras were already rolling.
She felt a spike of adrenaline, a sudden urge to run, but she knew if there was nothing more she achieved in her life, she had to stand perfectly still and see this through. She looked at the piece of paper in her hand and began to read.
‘My team and I have been shadowing Kit Foley for the past few weeks for our new documentary, following up on the rivalry laid bare between Cory Allbright and Kit Foley in Pipe Dreams. If you’ve seen that film, then you’ll know I have no bias or loyalty towards Kit. My alliances are pretty clear, in fact, to Cory and the Allbrights. However, allegations have been made in recent days that cannot be allowed to go unchallenged.’ She took another breath, willing herself not to rush, her voice to remain steady.
‘. . . Kit Foley is not responsible for beating Amy Killicks. He never raised a hand against her. The images first printed in the Sydney Herald were taken by Kit himself, after Amy had been attacked by her boyfriend at the time.’ Clover cleared her throat, seeing the intense focus and incredulity in the reporters’ eyes. They couldn’t get a clean shot of Kit; even a terse ‘no comment’ from him would have been a result. To be getting this . . .
‘Kit took the photographs as evidence. He had been trying to convince Amy to file charges against her former partner, who had been harassing and stalking her. I have further images here’ – with a shaking hand, she held up the sheets Beau had printed for them to see – ‘which weren’t published, and which show Amy holding up her hair to display the bruises on her back. There would be no reason why she would do this for the person who had caused the bruises; nor would there be any logical reason for the person who had caused them, to document them, as they would act as evidence against him. Additionally, the digital paths of each image show the date and time that they were taken, and also the device used – Kit Foley’s phone.’
She swallowed. ‘You will, I know, ask two questions as a result of this revelation. Why is Amy Killicks lying? And why didn’t Kit Foley defend himself against these allegations? . . . Well, Kit has been trying to protect the memory of Cory Allbright, in the best interests of Cory’s family. His principal concern has always been for Mia Allbright and her three young sons, and he strongly believes that the events behind his much-publicized incident with Cory in the quarter-finals in Peniche, Portugal, were private and should remain so. Kit is still of this opinion.’
Clover steadied herself again. Everything in her wanted to run. Her voice sounded strained. With every word she knew she was throwing her film’s exclusives – and her future career with them – to the wind. ‘However, in light of the stories Amy has sold to the press, worldwide, Cory’s widow has recorded this statement, which she has asked me to play to you . . .’
Clover pressed play on the MP3 file which Johnny had downloaded for her and turned the laptop towards the microphones.
‘My name is Mia Allbright and I want to state on the record that in October 2017, during the Pro Portugal competition in Peniche, my husband Cory was unfaithful to me with Amy Killicks. I knew Amy quite well back then, as she was Kit Foley’s fiancée at the time. This event was the cause of Kit’s separation from Amy, and of the subsequent incident on the water that day.
I want it to be known that I do not blame Kit for what happened. He and I were both victims of Cory and Amy’s actions, and what happened in the competition immediately afterwards came from a moment of anger, justifiable anger, with unforeseen consequences . . . I think sometimes we confuse winners with heroes. They are not. They make mistakes, like anyone else. Kit did and Cory certainly did too.
I know Kit’s tried to help us since in his own private ways and we thank him for that. It would have been easy for him to defend himself against Amy’s lies but he chose not to. He chose to protect Cory’s reputation for me and our boys. Which is why I am speaking out instead. Amy Killicks – now Mrs Robert Kesteven – is lying. She was contacted by Clover Phillips’ team to contribute to the new film about Kit and I can only assume she believed Kit had gone on the record about what had happened between her and Cory just before the accident. I believe she has tried to discredit Kit with these unfounded allegations, in the hope that they might outweigh Kit’s own revelations. It is for Kit to decide whether he wants to take legal action against her slurs but if he does, I’ll say here and now that I’m prepared to stand up in court and act as a witness for him. We all need to find some peace and closure on this. It’s been four years of suffering for us, and for Kit, and we need to move forward with our lives.
That is all I have to say. I will not be making any further comment on the matter and request you respect the privacy of my young family. Thank you.’
Clover pressed pause.
For several moments, there was an amazed silence. She knew that none of the reporters gathered could ever have expected they were going to land a scoop on one of the biggest stories in sport, standing here outside the hotel. Then they thrust their microphones towards her, their voices clashing and falling over one another in a rush of broken English.
‘Ms Phillips, can you confirm if Kit will sue Amy for defamation?’
‘Clover, are you the same woman lying on the ground in the photographs taken outside the restaurant in Austria?’
‘Has Kit approved this press conference?’
Matty stepped beside Clover and winked at her proudly. She turned to the reporters, in her element. ‘One at a time, please. Yes, you. What’s your question . . .?’
The music was pumping, lights strobing over the glassy superpipe that was as precision-groomed as a Kardashian eyebrow; there wasn’t a stray speck on the icy surface. The bleachers were packed, people waving banners and flags, their cheers rising into the night sky as they awaited the next rider. This was the third run of three and everyone was chasing a perfect ten.
Clover understood now what Beau had meant about competing under the lights. It gave everything a completely different feel. This was nothing like Stomping Ground, or their training runs on Kitzsteinhorn. Surfing had certainly never thrown up anything like this. Kit was in a brave new world up there – and he was loving it. The crowd had noticeably warmed up to him: a high score of 9.2 on his first run hadn’t elicited much more than a tepid clap. But by his second run, which scored lower – 8.9 thanks to a hand down on a landing – the cheers had begun to crackle the night sky. And now, as he slid into the starting position for his final showing, people were on their feet, calling his name before he’d even gone.
Matty jogged Clo’s elbow knowingly as the cameras caught Kit’s bewilderment, coming in tight and treating everyone to some close-ups. The crowd erupted again. Word had definitely got out. People were learning the truth.
But not him. Not yet. Clover knew he had his airbuds in. Like all the riders, he’d be listening to his own playlist, riding to his own beat, giving the spectators a show. He checked his goggles, his chinstrap, clapped his hands together a few times to get him in the zone.
The crowd picked up the beat, clapping him too. They were showing him in every way they could that they were behind him. On his side. Willing him to the win.
He dropped in—
‘And that’s an aggressive start by Kit Foley,’ the commentator announced.
‘Oh my god!’ Matty whispered as Kit grabbed his board on the upswing and extended his body into a perfect arc. He landed it, cruised down and swung up on the other side, spinning through the air like it was the natural way to travel.
Down in the next instant, airborne again . . .
‘. . . There’s the Switch Backside 1260 that Foley’s beginning to claim for his own!’ the commentator cried.
Clover could hardly watch. She thought of Mikey. If he should fall too . . .
‘And he’s coming in hard and fast! There he goes for the Double McTwist . . . beautiful execution, you can see his surfing background helping him here with those whip-smart turns . . .’
Clover realized she was holding her breath again. She tried to breathe.
‘He’s really using that up-draught to make the hits big and clean . . . Will he go for the Frontside Double Cork 1080? We’ve heard he’s pulled it off in training, will tonight be the . . . Yes! Oh and it’s good though! . . . He stomps that down!’
Clover gasped as she saw Kit land cleanly on the last jump, his arms flying up and punching the air as he carved to a stop.
‘And that’s going to be a high, high score for the former surfer’s final run! . . . What a debut! He made it look easy out there tonight . . . Is there anything Kit Foley can’t do?!’
Matty squealed and threw her arms around Clover’s neck as the crowds in the bleachers went wild. People were blowing on horns, chanting his name. The cameras came in close, seeing how his eyes were burning as he whipped off his helmet and goggles and threw them into the air.
Clover watched in amazement as the crowd’s support wrapped around him as he pivoted on the spot, his arms above his head. She could see the disbelief in his face. She had never seen him look like this before. She’d never seen him happy.
‘He knows it’s good! He knows the crowd knows it too! That could well be the gold medal run of the night . . .!’
Clover’s fingers pressed to her mouth as she watched him, drinking him in, tears pooling in her eyes as she watched him get his wish: Success. The best revenge.
The score flashed up suddenly on the giant board.
A perfect 10!
Everyone was screaming now! He’d done it! With only two riders to follow, there was almost no chance they could catch him with their aggregates, unless they scored tens too.
She watched as he sank to his knees, the emotion overwhelming him suddenly. His head dropped, his hands planted in the snow. She saw his shoulders heave from the emotion, the mental strain break over him like a wave, as for several moments he stayed kneeling on the snow. Every single person watching knew the pressures that had been bearing down on him. The lies that had been told.
‘Foley! Foley! Foley!’
The crowd was chanting his name in perfect unison, showing him they were behind him. For him. Was this redemption? He looked up and the cameras caught the wetness of his lashes. The champion was mortal. He was flesh and blood and tears after all.
He raised a hand in acknowledgement to them all. He’d done what he’d come here to do.
And so had she, in the end – exposed the truth about Kit Foley.
Clover felt Matty grip her arm and rest her head on her shoulder. He was heading now for the press tent. In a few moments, he would find out why he was loved again. Why he had glory as well as gold. He would find out what she’d done, telling the world that his fiancée had slept with another man.
And he would hate her for it. He would never forgive her. She had told his secret to the world.
‘Come on. It’s time,’ Matty said, jerking her head with a sympathetic smile.
Clover looked away from the TV screen. The boarding gate was now empty, ‘Final Call’ flashing in red letters above the desk. Heart pounding, with tears in her eyes, she picked up her bag and they walked over to the air steward.
‘Good evening, welcome to Swiss Air,’ he said, checking their passports and boarding passes before handing them back to them with a smile. ‘We hope you have a pleasant flight.’