Swell (29 page)

Jason was as ecstatic as if he had just won the entire world title race. He punched the sky, stood up on his board and somersaulted into the water. It was a small victory but it was a significant one. The race was so close at this point that the slightest slip up meant certain defeat. It was endless pressure from now until the end of the Pipemasters.

It took Jason half an hour to traverse the fifty metres of sand between the ocean and his car as fans hounded him for autographs, photographs, hugs and kisses. He even signed a little white dog with a black marker pen at the owner’s insistence.

‘Aren’t there laws against that kind of thing?’ I laughed when he reached us.

‘It wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve signed, believe me.’

I raised my palms and laughed.

‘Don’t tell me. That’s a whole different book.’

Jason pulled his red rash vest over his head and exhaled his relief towards the sky. His chest heaved, the wet tanned skin sizzling in the sun.

‘Phew that was damn close.’

‘Too damn close,’ Chuck nodded. ‘You were killing me out there, man. What’s up? You look distracted for real.’

Jason shook his head and droplets of cool water landed on my skin.

‘I don’t know. I guess I was freaking,’ he shrugged, ‘with the year nearly over and everything. It was suddenly real.’

‘Win first, freak later, dude.’

Chuck and Jason shook hands and patted each other on the back.

‘Thanks for your support, guys. Seeing you all making fools of yourselves on the car brought me to my senses. I couldn’t let you all down.’

We all smiled proudly and I was taken by surprise when Jason pulled me into a tight hug. The light golden hair on his chest pressed softly against the naked skin above my bikini top.

‘Thank you,’ he said, holding the embrace longer than I expected.

I hugged him back. His body felt tired in my arms. When we parted I noticed Ruby looking at us with a broad smile. As for the female fans behind her, well if looks could kill…

I handed Jason a towel that he draped over his head to shield himself from the thousands of prying eyes watching his every move.

‘Make yourself decent now,’ I smiled. ‘I’ll take your rash vest back to the beach marshall if you like. I could do with the exercise.’

Jason thanked me and pulled himself into the passenger seat of the car where he rested his head in his hands. I meandered along the pathway at the top of the beach holding the wet jersey. I felt both concerned and relieved. Something had unsettled Jason and I wondered whether Cain had had some part to play. However, I was worried about broaching the subject in case I was wrong and Jason’s distraction was simply down to nerves. Suddenly I felt someone grab my elbow and pull me between the monster trucks parked beside the path. Cain’s breath hit my face.

‘Cain. Like a breath of stale air in my life as ever.’

‘You’re not doing what I asked,’ he hissed.

I made eye contact and held it despite the ball of dread in my throat.

‘And I won’t. That much I can promise you.’

He ground his teeth, his eyes searching my face.

‘Then I can promise you, this ain’t over. Have your little party now, Sista because it is gonna end real soon.’

Waipahe stepped up behind Cain. As if he needed a bodyguard. Waipahe had another new tattoo, this one on his forehead that read 96712, the postcode of the North Shore.

‘Is that his serial number at the pound?’

‘What? What she talkin’ ‘bout, Cain?’

Cain waved his hand.

‘I know you make jokes when you’re scared, Sista. I know I get to you. I just hope you don’t think I’m not a man of my word.’

I bit my lip.

‘You know, Cain, you’re in the wrong sport. You should have taken up boxing or professional playground bullying. Surfing is far too soulful for the likes of you.’

He bared his teeth in something resembling a smile without the warmth.

‘Surfing is a tough game now. Some day soon we’ll be riding one hundred foot waves for breakfast but don’t worry your pretty head, Jason will be well finished by then, yeah. This sport ain’t for pussies now, girl.’

As he said the ‘p’ word, his hand moved quickly down towards my crotch. I gasped and fell as I heard a smack and Cain reeled backwards clutching his shoulder.

‘Get your filthy hands off her.’

Rory reached out to help me up with his other hand still raised. Waipahe whistled for the Tiger Sharks who assembled with surprising speed for such bulky men.

‘You’re a dead man, Aussie boy,’ Maika’i announced with a glottal growl.

Maika’i and Waipahe moved forwards threateningly but Cain’s laughter stopped them in their tracks.

‘Hey, Brahs, looks like we gone and got a new big guy on tour huh?’ he mocked. ‘Jason’s little protégé just went and grew up. Now this is gonna make things much more fun.’

The Tiger Sharks laughed along with their leader. I suspected half of them were wondering what protégé meant.

Cain looked coldly at Rory and then brushed down his left shoulder.

‘Welcome to the game, Rory boy. When this gets out, Brah, you won’t even be able to buy a wave on this island.’

Rory clenched his jaw, wrapped his arm around me and said nothing.

Cain turned away and clicked his fingers for his gang to follow. Seconds later a group of bikini-clad female fans accosted them. Money and power could, it seemed, buy love, because it was certainly not dashing good looks and sparkling personalities that got the Tiger Sharks laid.

I exhaled.

‘Thanks, Rory. I just can’t seem to avoid that guy. I just wish I’d never got involved with him.’

‘He’s a bully. He would have got to you eventually. Anything to try and upset Jason’s team.’

At the mention of Jason, my eyes flickered from Rory’s face to my feet.

‘What is it, Bailey? Has he threatened you?

‘Not me exactly.’

‘Jason then?’

I nodded sagely.

‘He threatened to hurt Jason to stop him winning the title.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘I didn’t want either of you to worry. Threats from the Tiger Sharks were what ended up sending Jason’s brother to jail and I didn’t want to open that can of worms.’

Rory rubbed my shoulder.

‘You’re a good friend to Jason and to me. Thanks for your concern but we’ll be fine. Jason is way stronger than Cain and besides he’s got me to watch his back.’

‘Well you did a good job of watching mine. I hope I haven’t got you into trouble. Winning the title in Hawaii means everything to Cain. I am worried.’

Rory shook his head.

‘Cain is not a problem, Bailey, he’s just an angry man who needs attention. He likes to feel powerful. Anyway, the title will come down to the best surfer between him and Jason on the day. Other than a very public attack on his rival, which would be far too obvious, what else can he possibly do?

‘You’re right, Rory. I suppose I’m still quite new to all this.’

I felt somewhat reassured.

‘It will be fine, Bailey. And all any of us can do is help Jason prepare for the finals. The rest is down to him. Now, put Cain Ohana out of your mind and let’s enjoy the last weeks of the year as a team.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Much to my disgust, Cain won the Sunset Beach contest in spectacular form, scoring a combined total of nineteen-point-eight out of a possible twenty. Despite having upped his game to progress to the final, Jason appeared to run out of steam like an old engine approaching the brow of a very steep hill. Where usually he had the balance of a cat, he fell on the most simple of manoeuvres. All was not lost for the world title but Jason had made the task much more difficult for himself with everything resting on the final event, the Pipemasters. Just as it had the previous year when Cain had snatched the title from under Jason’s nose.

The stress was beginning to show in Jason’s usually calm demeanour. After a year of competition there was the slimmest of margins separating Cain and Jason and the Hawaiian surfer definitely had the home advantage at Pipeline. Jason had committed everything to winning the world title and I could tell the thought that he might throw it away at the final hurdle to his Nemesis was killing him. Chuck concentrated on making Jason’s life as uncomplicated as possible. He filtered all requests from the media and let very few through the net. He put all interviews on hold until after the Pipemasters and chased cameramen from the garden, leaping like a spindly gazelle after them if they dared to try and encroach on Jason’s down time. He turned down appearances and only allowed the prettiest groupies through his imaginary cordon to ask for autographs, each of whom went away with Chuck’s phone number.

With the tension in the house palpable, I often wrote outside on the lookout post overhanging the beach. It was easy to become blasé about my surroundings after almost a
year spent on beaches but the thought that I could very soon be working back at my desk in England made me determined to enjoy the moment. Writing longhand in the sunshine with the Pacific Ocean as my motivational soundtrack made work a pleasure. I could hardly get the words down fast enough.

‘Read me some,’ said Jason. ‘Please.’

I lowered my bare feet from the chair in front and clasped my notebook to my chest. Keeping his eyes fixed on the ocean, Jason held his ankle behind his buttock and stretched his quad muscle. He was dressed in just a pair of blue board shorts the colour of the ocean.

‘OK,’ I sighed, ‘I wouldn’t usually until I had edited but I guess you’ve got to read it sometime and I’m particularly proud of this part.’

I shook my hair and smoothed down the pages. Jason pressed his hands into his kidneys and bent backwards. His body was so supple he could have been a contortionist.

‘Jason, Can you stop bending yourself in half in front of me? I’m starting to feel quite nauseous.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Now, take a seat and I will read to you.’

I cleared my throat and then cleared it again. No matter how many books I had written, reading the words out loud always felt painfully personal. The words were about Jason but they were
my
words and, just like a schoolchild handing in her homework and waiting for the reaction of the teacher, revealing my words to people made me feel exposed.

‘Jason Cross is an inspiring example of a child growing up in poverty who chased his dream, fulfilled it and now lives it every day,’ I began softly. ‘From the moment Jason’s father, cowboy Ricky Cross, pushed his son into his first ocean wave, Jason was hooked. The freedom and detachment the ocean afforded him from a somewhat harsh reality became a passion that drives Jason to chase swells around the world and even to risk his life to catch that perfect wave. His office is the ocean and his life is a beach. To wake up every day and have a job to do that one would happily do for free is a rare opportunity and Jason Cross knows he is lucky. However, he also knows it was not so much luck that brought him to his paradise but a burning desire to be the best and to never take no for an answer. The philosophy of this surfing legend appears to be, if you visualise it, it will happen. You can get there. You just have to believe.’

I looked up from the page and closed the book.

‘And be supremely talented,’ I added with a wink.

Jason lowered his head onto his clasped hands and sighed. I took a deep breath of warm, island air.

‘Do you like it?’

‘Do you have to ask?’

When he looked up at me, his eyes were glistening.

‘You make me sound too good.’

‘Well that’s what I’m paid to do,’ I smirked, adding seriously, ‘and believe me it is not a hard task because everything I have written is true.’

Jason reached out and pressed his big hand on top of my small one.

‘Thank you. You are a very talented woman.’ His fingers tapped the back of my hand. ‘And these hands do write magic. You should get them insured.’

I laughed and pulled my hand away, wriggling my fingers in the air.

‘Now that sounds like a plan. I could be rich.’

‘You will be,’ Jason said so firmly it made me stop laughing. ‘I know you’ll be a success.’

The fact that my success relied on his success made me uncomfortable. In fact, Jason was wholly responsible not only for the ending of my book and its potential in the bestseller charts but he also carried on his shoulders Chuck’s financial success, Oli’s job, the interests of Poseidon’s Board and shareholder’s, Rory’s career and the hopes of every one of his millions of fans. When a sportsman reached Jason’s level, it was no longer just a question of personal achievement and winning to please himself. How he did not collapse under the pressure I did not know. It was little wonder Jason had seemed tired as the year drew to its climax.

‘Is everything alright, Jason? Is something bothering you?’ I waited a beat. ‘Or someone?’

Jason brushed a lock of hair back from his face. It flopped instantly back to settle on his long eyelashes.

‘What do you mean by someone?’

I wanted to tell him about Cain’s threats but the words stuck in my throat. If I said the wrong thing and Jason lost the world title as a result I would never forgive myself. I shrugged.

‘Nobody in particular. I just thought you seemed preoccupied, a bit off the boil, that’s all.’

Jason nodded and wrapped his arms across his naked torso. Living among surfers I had become somewhat accustomed to seeing the men around me half-naked with rigid six-packs, but it was still a daily pleasure.

‘You’re very intuitive.’

‘I just don’t like to see you keeping your troubles locked up internally, especially if it starts to affect your performance. We all want you to win and if I can do anything to help you, just tell me. You don’t always have to act like our invincible leader.’

I raised an eyebrow and smiled softly. Jason ran his tongue slowly over his top lip.

‘It might sound stupid.’

‘Try me.’

The ocean sent a haze of spray into the air between us, setting the moment in soft focus. Jason inhaled and crossed his hands on the top of his head. His chest expanded, the muscles rippling across his ribs. I tried not to stare and turned away to look at the ocean. Four waves were ridden at Pipeline before Jason spoke.