She pressed a hand above her heart as a token of gratitude, waiting for the noise to die down. In the corner of her eye, beside the cameras, she could see a set of numbers spooling down, reminding her she had precisely eighty-four seconds left before the host – a comedian with a cruel wit she would rather not engage – came back on stage to drive the show towards its punctual ending in time for the ten o’clock news.

Eighty-two . . .

‘Ladies and gentlemen, the distinguished judges of the BAFTA committee,’ she began, debating whether to reach for the speech notes in her jacket pocket. ‘On behalf of all the team at Honest Box Films, thank you for this great honour. Thank you for seeing, hearing and recognizing the power of Cory Allbright’s story. Thank you for giving it a reach that would not otherwise be possible without your endorsement – for that is, after all, our ultimate aim: to take the message of hope and second chances to the darkest corners, where the light is most needed.

‘When I first approached Cory and his family about the idea of doing a documentary, none of us could have envisaged the reception this film has received all over the world. The past few months have been a whirlwind and I know Cory wishes he could have been here tonight to thank you himself.’

She looked out across the sea of faces. ‘But sadly it’s just not possible, as we all know. Cory Allbright has always been the people’s champion, the underdog who fought every disadvantage, kicked down every obstacle thrown his way to scale the heights of the Pro Surf World Tour. For years, he was the nearly man, the runner-up, world number two; so when, finally, he stood on the very brink of having it all, the world was cheering him on. We wanted him to win it. He deserved it; he’d earned it. It was his time to shine.’ Clover’s smile faltered. ‘One single moment; that was what it came down to. One split-second choice, not even his own, and everything changed.’ She felt the familiar lump gather in her throat as she looked out and saw the sad furrowed brows among the audience. ‘Not just the sponsorships and the competition money vital for supporting his young family, but his health, his strength, his ability to live a life free of pain.’ Clover was quiet for a moment, letting her words settle.

‘I wish I could say I was in the business of happy endings. I wish I could tell you talent or passion or dogged determination will always overcome adversity; but if that was the case, it would be Cory standing here talking to you. Instead I can offer only this.’ Her eyes scanned the room, noticing the numbers still ticking down: thirty-three, thirty-two . . .