She watched as he went over to a guy standing in a navy jacket with red piping, and sunglasses. They began talking intently, the other man using his arms expressively to explain something. ‘Is that Tipper McKenzie?’ she asked Johnny.

But Johnny was watching Ari coming down the pipe. He executed a series of serviceable turns and a tentative board grab, but there was no innate flair. Clover suspected his hangover was keeping him on mute; he was here in a backup support capacity only. He probably couldn’t wait to get back to the chalet.

‘. . . Huh? What d’you say?’ Johnny asked, clapping Ari out.

‘Tipper McKenzie?’ She pointed to where Kit was standing down the slope, by the top of one set of rollers.

‘Oh – yeah, looks like it.’

‘He doesn’t look happy,’ Clover said.

‘He shouldn’t be. Rookie mistake. Foley’s weight was too far back. He’s not surfing now.’

‘Holy cow!’ Matty exclaimed, prompting them both to turn back. Beau was coming down the pipe, relaxed as a ribbon and pulling out a series of intricate aerials. ‘He’s good!’

‘. . . Yeah,’ Clover agreed. ‘He really is.’

They all watched as he finished off with a Cab 180, landing perfectly, braking and doing a couple of celebratory 360 spins as everyone watching cheered.

‘Go Beau!’ someone yelled.

‘Thanks man!’ he yelled back before turning in to a set of simple arcs and heading straight for them. They all stepped back again as he went to pass them on his way out of the pipe. They braced for the Team Foley snub.

‘Oh, hey guys,’ he panted as he slid past.

Matty, Clover and Johnny swapped surprised looks. They’d got an ‘Oh, hey guys’?

The day hadn’t been a complete write-off, then.

By the time they caught a cab back, their hosts had been home for twenty minutes, the snow already melting off their boards and boots in the boot room. She could tell Foley got off on being driven about everywhere effortlessly – making sharp exits at whim – while they had to deal with bus queues and taxi ranks.

Matty and Johnny had gone straight to their rooms for hot showers. Clover had been tempted to lie on her bed and wait her turn for the shower too, but she had forced herself to go upstairs to show her face. Tempting though it was to hide in their rooms, they had to start normalizing the fact for Kit that they were living here with him. He had to get used to it – they all did – however painful it might be.

She walked up to the living space. Ari was on his phone, pacing past the table. She could hear Beau’s voice in the kitchen. Kit was sprawled on one of the sofas, scrolling on his phone. He looked up, his thumb pausing momentarily at the terrible sight of her.