‘Not just him!’ Mia laughed. ‘It’s everyone – the whole surf community! Everyone loved Cory. They’ve all pitched in to help us, but they’re keeping it anonymous cos they know we wouldn’t accept charity.’

Could it be true? She certainly remembered the numbers of people who’d come out on the water to pay their respects that day. And she vaguely recalled someone had set up a GoFundMe for them after the film had brought attention to their straitened circumstances . . . ‘But you’re quite sure it’s all legal and binding? It can’t be taken away from you?’

‘My attorney quadruple-checked it. He said he’s never dealt with a bequest like this before, but it’s fully legit. Kosher. So we’re back in! We moved in at the weekend. Honestly, I still didn’t really believe it myself till I saw the kids’ boards against the walls of the house again.’

Clover laughed, feeling reassured. ‘Well, my god – send me photos then! I want to see it! . . . I just can’t believe it! I mean, it’s extraordinary.’

Mia sighed contentedly. ‘It’s so good to be back, Clo. I can’t tell you what it was like, stuck in that concrete jungle. The boys just . . . faded. We were all really lost out there for a while.’

‘You deserve this, Mia! You’ve had such terrible things to contend with. I’m so glad something’s gone right at last.’

‘I tell you – you don’t know the meaning of home till you lose it.’

Clover felt her breath catch. ‘. . . No,’ she agreed quietly. She shook her head, pushing away her own problems. ‘Well, a lot of people love you very much. No matter how bad things got, you’ve never been alone.’

‘Thanks to you, Clo. You helped make this happen. You made people see . . .’ Clover heard her friend take a sharp inhale. ‘Talking of which . . . how’s it going with Foley? Where are you?’

‘Well, currently Austria. And right this moment, I am sitting beside a very large, white, shiny halfpipe.’

‘I can’t believe he’s still going for that.’ Mia’s voice was hard. ‘Is he playing his usual games?’

Clover could see the man himself across the way. He had unclipped his board to walk back up and was standing with it lying across both shoulders, arms slung over it casually. Tipper was talking intently to him, gesticulating with animation, bending his arms and demonstrating an action he clearly wanted Kit to replicate. ‘. . . Yeah. I’m afraid he is.’ This morning had been a prime example of that.

‘I heard about the punch-up . . . Sounds like he’s still an angry son-of-a-bitch.’

‘Mmm, for sure.’

‘You got any sense out of him yet?’

What she meant was, any explanations for why her husband was now dead. ‘. . . Getting there. It’s been taking a while to establish trust.’