Blue

by Lisa Glass

  Garrett grinned and said, ‘Yeah, screw Billabong. Go get sponsored by Quiksilver.’

  ‘We’ll help,’ Elijah said. ‘We could record some footage of you surfing. Put a reel and a CV together for you to send out to surf companies.’

  Garrett was obviously impressed with this idea, because for a second it looked like he was going to give Elijah a fist bump, but he must have thought better of it because instead of doing that, he relaxed his fist, dropped his hand and nodded at Elijah and murmured, ‘Booyah.’

  ‘Thanks, Elijah. That’d be brilliant,’ I said.

  ‘Such a shame you didn’t win,’ Aunt Zoe said. ‘You were so good too. But, Iris, you have got to teach me how to surf. That looked incredible!’

  Sephy piped up with, ‘I’ll teach you. One mother to another. Trust me, girl, it’s gonna blow your mind.’

  Cara was pawing at Zeke and he picked her up and put her on his shoulders, where she sat quietly stroking his hair.

  Saskia was high as a kite, but she came over to commiserate with me.

  ‘You know, there’s a place open now, as Anders’s personal assistant …’

  ‘Yeah, good point,’ Zeke said, brightening a bit, and looking at my mum in a hopeful way.

  ‘Anders is not gonna want me,’ I said, feeling totally useless. ‘I’d be rubbish at it and it would be like torture, sitting around doing paperwork and making calls while you guys were off riding the best waves on the planet. At least here I can surf.’

  ‘But I can’t stay here with you,’ Zeke said.

  I saw Saskia clock the look on Zeke’s face and she turned to me. ‘What happened out there? The hang-ten thing? It looked like you had it perfect and then you were sailing through the air. I’ve never seen a wipeout like that before. It was like someone sucked your legs off the board.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  I couldn’t say what had happened. They’d just think it was sour grapes.

  ‘What was it, Iris?’ Kelly said.

  ‘The nose of my board.’

  Saskia was already picking up my board to look at it. I saw her face fall when she caught the smell. She rubbed her hand along the surface and picked up a few traces of something slippery.

  ‘That is hair serum. Pure silicone.’

  She shot a look in the direction of the car park, where Lana was no doubt putting her foot to the floor, leaving Newquay for Saunton Sands.

  ‘The cheating cow,’ Kelly said.

  ‘Wait a minute — somebody sabotaged Iris’s surfboard?’ my mum said.

  Aunt Zoe took Cara off Zeke’s shoulders and cuddled her tight. ‘That is appalling,’ she said. ‘Iris, you were robbed.’

  Zeke was gripping my hands and saying, ‘Baby, listen: it’s not over.’

  ‘This is a diabolical disgrace,’ my mum said, getting redder and more teacher-ish by the second.

  And then Saskia did something that I’d never in a million years have expected. She marched straight up to Anders and the other judges, and dragged them back to me and Zeke.

  ‘What is it? What’s going on?’ said Anders.

  ‘If she’d managed to hang ten, what would that have scored her?’

  ‘Hard to say, really, but that’s a heavily weighted manoeuvre,’ one of the judges said.

  ‘So more than an 8.60, right?’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ Anders said. ‘It would have scored somewhere between an 8.75 and a 10, depending on the execution.’

  Saskia took a deep breath and looked me straight in the eyes, even though she was talking to Anders.

  ‘Iris won, then. The only reason she didn’t make the hang-ten was because Miss Thing from Saunton Sands cheated her ass off and wrecked Iris’s board with silicone so that Iris couldn’t maintain proper traction.’

  I couldn’t believe my ears. Saskia, who I’d thought was my biggest rival and who I’d treated like my sworn enemy, was offering me the opportunity of a lifetime. The thing she’d worked towards for two years.

  Why?

  OK, so what had happened was unfair, but surfing was like that. One heat could have all the good waves and your heat could be flat. Sometimes you got the perfect wave, because you were in the perfect spot through luck not skill. You literally took the rough with the smooth, and when it was rough you sucked it up and hoped you’d do better next time. It was just the nature of surfing.

  My mum looked like she was on the point of bursting a blood vessel.

  One of the judges turned to Saskia and said, ‘I feel bad for Iris here, but what’s done is done, and we can’t judge on what might have been. You’re through, Saskia. Congratulations. You are the new face of Billabong UK.’

  ‘Not if I withdraw,’ Saskia said quietly.

  What?

  She was talking herself out of the ultimate prize. Maybe she didn’t want it if she hadn’t won it fair and square. Or maybe she cared so much about Zeke that she wanted him to be happy and she guessed that Zeke being happy meant me winning this thing.

  But there was something else in Saskia’s eyes. Generosity. I saw it then: the thing I’d never let myself see before. I’d been so busy being snippy about her clothes and her accent that I hadn’t let myself see that behind all the surface glitz, Saskia was a cool girl with a heart of gold.

  Talk about prejudice. I’d never even given her a chance, but now she was giving me everything. I knew, very clearly, that this could be the first step on the ladder of an amazing career and a life to match. As a Face of Billabong, I would have a backstage pass to the most epic waves on the planet, as well as a constant stream of the best boards and a chance to hang with some of the most radical surfers that had ever lived.

  And best of all, I would be there experiencing it all with Zeke, the person who inspired me every single day.

  ‘Are you formally withdrawing?’ the judge asked Saskia.

  She took a deep breath, and said, ‘Yes.’

  Anders talked to the other judges, and it all went very serious as they each checked out the nose of my surfboard. Then Anders had a quiet conversation with Saskia before turning back to me with a huge grin on his face.

  ‘Well then, Iris, it’s yours for the taking.’

  ‘Yeah?’ I said, still not quite believing it. Kelly was hanging off my back, shrieking. Zeke was holding both my hands and dragging me up towards the stage, and my mum and Aunt Zoe had completely lost it and were hugging each other through floods of tears.

  ‘Iris, this is it. You did it, baby,’ Zeke said, his hands shaking with excitement.

  Over my head Kelly screeched, ‘Ed Sheeran’s got the giant cheque!’ I looked up at the stage, where I could just make out a slim ginger-haired guy holding a big white piece of cardboard.

  ‘So are you gonna go for it, flower?’ Anders asked me.

  I looked at Saskia, who was nodding encouragement, and I looked at Zeke, whose eyes were shining with happiness. Then I thought of Nanna.

  I said the only thing I could say:

  ‘Hell yeah.’

  acknowledgments

  I would like to thank the following people for their assistance:

  My wonderful family for helping me to the surface so many times when I was drowning in the impact zone of modern publishing. My agent Ben Illis for always believing in the writing. My editors Roisin Heycock and Talya Baker for excellent ideas and advice.

  Tassy Swallow and Jaide Lowe for sharing the highs and lows of life as teenage pro-surfers. Likewise, the brilliant Oli and Emma Adams.

  The environmental activist group Surfers for Cetaceans, including pro-surfers Chris del Moro and Dave Rastovich, as well as Justin Krumb and Howie Cooke, for their passion for surf culture and their efforts to protect the marine environment.

  Rhys John, Max Hepworth-Povey and Christopher Hunter of Errant Surf for illuminating chats and fun in the water.

  Big wave pro-surfer Chris Bertish for telling me how it felt to paddle the mighty Cribbar.

  The Bra Boys of Maroubra for their insigh
tful documentary and for making me think about surf brotherhood.

  Sara and Jade at the Little Cake Shop for keeping me fed and watered while I wrote this book.

  Fistral surf buddies Laura Ward and Francesco Rigolli for surf chat. Likewise Tina Beresford and Karl Michaelides. Thanks also to the other local surfers who gave their time to help me write this book and particularly the surfers of North Fistral, who have been dazzling me for more than a decade.

  Sarah Clarke of Checkered Photography. Daniel Stapleford, Aimee Stapleford and Kristin Becker for invaluable help with research and all things yoga.

  My colleagues, the Book Foxes of Vulpes Libris, and particularly the writers and reviewers Eve Harvey, Hilary Ely, Moira Briggs, Leena Heino and Kirsty McCluskey, as well as Paul Glass, Jon Cann, Laura Ward, Kate Neal and Beki Jenkins for kindly reading early drafts of this novel.

  Screenwriter and novelist Rosy Barnes for always nagging me to write the big scenes.

  What’s next for Iris and Zeke?

  Find out in

  COMING JUNE 2015

  www.quercusbooks.co.uk

  @quercuskids