‘No. He just keeps his eyes on the prize.’ Clover sank onto the bed, looking out of Johnny’s window. The view towards the mountains was largely lost in the low, gathering clouds today. It looked cold out there, and ominous. She was glad they were spending the day indoors. ‘. . . I wonder if he misses it.’

‘What?’

‘Surfing. The ocean. Sun. Sand. His old life . . . It’s all so completely opposite to this.’

‘And yet the sport has so many overlaps. Just a different surface.’

‘Mmm. Do you think he loves it, though?’

Johnny thought for a moment. ‘I don’t really get the impression he loves much, to be honest. We’ve been here nearly a week and . . . he doesn’t smile, tell jokes, chill out. He didn’t really celebrate that trick last night, he doesn’t go free-riding, much less muck about in the snow . . .’

‘Unlike some people,’ she grinned, remembering their first day on the slopes. ‘God, that was so embarrassing.’ She ran her face through her hands at the memory of Kit, Ari and Beau passing directly above them in stony silence. ‘He’s such a fun sponge.’

‘Yeah, exactly,’ Johnny grinned. ‘He seems sort of frozen. Or hollow, or something.’

‘Maybe that’s the mindset of a winner. That’s what it takes to be a champion – you can’t react to the little things.’

‘Or maybe – whisper it – he’s just incredibly dull?’ Johnny murmured, eyes wide with the scandal of it all. ‘He might look like a Roman god but maybe, underneath the tan, and the muscles, and the hair and those fricking unbelievable eyes . . . maybe there’s nothing else.’

‘Mmm, maybe. I’ve not seen anything to get him going,’ she mused.

Johnny gave a sudden laugh and straightened up. ‘Well, apart from you, of course. He really fricking hates you.’

Clover’s mouth opened in protest. ‘Us, you mean! He hates us!’

Johnny considered for a moment. ‘Yeah . . .’ His face broke into a delighted grin. ‘But mainly you. This goes out in your name. It’s your face on the screen. Your company. I reckon if he had us lined up against a wall and only one bullet in his gun, he’d shoot you.’

‘Johnny!’ she laughed.

‘What? You don’t agree?’

She shook her head, laughing harder. ‘No, I do. That’s the problem. You’re absolutely right. He’d so shoot me. He’s a . . .’ She sighed.

‘He’s a monster.’

She remembered his apology by the pool last night. The words almost choking him. I’m many things. But I’m not that. ‘Yeah,’ she murmured. ‘He’s a monster.’

*

Clover stopped, shivering, in the hallway as Matty darted down the stairs, looking panicked. ‘Oh my god, finally! Where have you been?’ she hissed.