‘. . . Is it though?’ He had won every trophy there was for him to win. He didn’t seem happy to her.

He smiled – beautiful, broken – and for a moment, his gaze roamed her face like she was the conundrum. She sensed he was going to reach out and pull her to him. She felt the avalanche powder cloud clear around them momentarily, revealing blue skies and sunshine. But in the next heartbeat, he had drawn back. The doors began to close, preparing to take him from her. ‘. . . You’ve got some funny ideas, Clover Phillips. You’ll be saying you believe in the Easter Bunny and happy endings next.’

Chapter Thirty-Two

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.