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Aware that there’s cameras still fixed on us, it takes all my control not to let the muscles in my face form the frown they’re crying out to do.

She’s good at this – saying what she means without saying what she means.

But it’s all there, her blatant criticism seeping through her meticulously constructed words.

I can feel it, and worse than that, I know Leo can.

‘Leo is currently competing at Bells Beach,’ I say proudly to Peter. ‘He won this morning – he’s through to the Quarterfinals.’

‘Crikey! Brilliant, mate.’ Peter reaches for Leo’s hand again to give it a vigorous shake, causing Leo to laugh despite himself.

‘I didn’t know you were back on the Championship Tour again.

I haven’t had time to keep up with it this year, but if you’re there, I’ll be sure to look out for you.

What’s Bells? The fourth stop on the Tour? ’

‘He’s not competing in the World Championship,’ Michelle states. ‘He’s only back for this one contest by special invitation.’

‘Ah, well, that must be a bit of an upset for the younger surfers on the Tour,’ Peter says excitedly. ‘Showing them how it’s done, eh? You were unbeatable then; I’d say you’re even better now.’

‘I was beatable then,’ Leo concedes modestly. ‘Ethan Anderson proved that, and I’m not the only one providing an upset for the pros – he’s not been doing badly himself at Bells.’

‘Where have I been ? Under a bloody rock, it would seem!’ Peter exclaims, slapping the palm of his hand against his forehead. ‘He’s back as well, is he?’

‘Came out of retirement to face Leo again.’ I say.

Peter nudges Leo with his elbow. ‘He was never really a match for you. He had power, but he didn’t have your technique. I’ll be putting money on you, mate.’

‘Thank you.’ Leo smiles, his cheeks flushing.

‘What a comeback!’

Michelle gestures to me. ‘Yes, Iris Gray is the journalist who is chronicling his journey for Studio .’ Her eyes fix on mine as she offers a thin-lipped smile. ‘She’s clearly very… committed to the project.’

Fucking hell.

There are a few ways to react to someone when they treat you like this. When their looks and comments drip with poison to make you feel small, to embarrass or shame you. It’s easy to shrink away from it, maybe even start to believe that they’re right about you.

But I’ve never been one to run from a fight. Michelle might think she’s got me down, but she can bet her arse that I can read her like a fucking book. I’m not daunted by the formidable. I was raised by them.

I hold her gaze and smile right back at her.

‘Oh, there’s nothing that motivates me more than a good story,’ I say directly to Michelle, Peter and Leo no longer a part of this. ‘When it comes to one of my articles, you can always count on me to be as thorough as possible.’

There it is: so quick anyone else would miss it, but I see the flicker of fear in her eyes. I know exactly who I’m talking to. It’s time she realised who she’s dealing with too.

‘A journalist, eh?’ Peter chuckles, oblivious to our stand-off, his chipper tone drawing both of us back into the room. ‘And a Brit! You lot have always been the most ruthless when it comes to the media, isn’t that right, Michelle?’

‘I can’t disagree,’ she says gravely, still watching me as I casually take a sip of champagne.

‘Iris isn’t a tabloid reporter; she’s a sports journalist,’ Leo tells Peter. ‘You’ve probably read some of her features.’

‘I’m afraid I focus on the business pages – boring of me, I know,’ he sighs, before nudging Leo. ‘You ever been tempted to get into the media industry since retiring?’ He winks at Michelle. ‘In your blood isn’t it?’

‘Nah, I’ve stuck to surfing,’ Leo says.

‘Yes, that ship sailed a long time ago,’ Michelle informs Peter with a forced laugh. ‘I did try to get him interested in real work, but it was met with resistance. I’m sure you read all about how entertaining his choices were back then.’

For the first time in this exchange, Peter looks a little startled and then uncomfortable.

He attempts to breeze over it by saying, ‘When the ocean calls, you have to answer, right Leo? Speaking of which, I must talk to you Michelle about your vision for this fund; I’ve got heaps of collaborators excited about this one. ’

She responds with a polite smile. A woman taps her on the shoulder and whispers something in her ear. I look over to Leo, who has retreated into pensive silence.

‘Do excuse me, I’m needed,’ Michelle says calmly to us, before exiting the conversation, followed by her camera crew.

As Peter follows suit thanks to being cheerfully greeted by an acquaintance, the woman who had just initiated Michelle’s next move steps into her empty space.

‘Mr Silva, I’m Jenna, one of Ms Martin’s assistants,’ she says hurriedly, a bright smile attempting to mask her stress.

‘Did your mother mention the photo we’d like to arrange with you?

I’ll come find you in a bit if that’s all right; we have a screen all set up to the side of the room, so it won’t take up too much of your time. Thank you so much.’

Leo doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t appear to need a response. She turns on her heel and scurries off into the crowd.

‘Leo,’ I say quietly, ‘are you—?’

‘Let’s go,’ he states, placing his glass down on the nearest table. I think I see his hand trembling. ‘We never should have come.’

I knock back the last of my drink and reach for his hand. I don’t care who sees, not anymore. Threading my fingers through his, I give his hand a comforting squeeze and he leads me around the edge of the room towards the door.

As we leave the ballroom, I feel a wave of relief, as though I hadn’t realised how long I’d been holding my breath in there. He grips my hand tightly, striding across the lobby.

‘Mr Silva!’ A cry behind us comes up. ‘Please! Mr Silva!’

He halts abruptly, causing me to bump into his arm, before he turns to see Jenna pelting towards us, her eyes wide with panic.

‘You’re not leaving?’ she asks breathlessly.

‘I’m afraid so,’ he mutters. ‘I have an early start in the morning.’

‘Wait!’ she pleads. ‘I’m sorry, I should have organised the photo earlier.

If you have just a moment, we could quickly get that done now.

I’ll make sure a car is waiting out the front for you so you can get off straight after.

But it’s very important – you see, Ms Martin noticed you leave and she’s keen to—’

‘She noticed, did she?’ He drops my hand to shove his in his pockets.

‘She’ll be right here, any moment,’ Jenna wills, glancing back at the door to the ballroom. When it swings open, the relief that radiates through her is unmissable. ‘Ah, here she is.’

Michelle marches towards us and, naturally, the camera crew come bustling through the door right behind her, lugging their equipment, scuttling after her to keep up.

‘Leo, what do you think you’re doing?’ she asks calmly, clasping her hands in front of her. ‘You’ve only just arrived.’

‘Actually, we’ve been here a while,’ he corrects, barely able to look her in the eye. ‘You were busy with everyone else.’

She gives him a look that says: really?

‘I have to get home,’ Leo continues, nodding to the exit that is screaming at us to run through it. ‘I’m up early.’

‘I understand; we’ll make this quick,’ she says, her eyes shifting to Jenna. ‘Go get everything set up and we’ll be there in a minute.’

Jenna nods vigorously at her boss. ‘I’ll have that car waiting for you,’ she promises Leo, before she scurries back into the ballroom.

Michelle turns back to Leo. ‘One photo and then you can go.’

‘Mum, I really have to—’

‘One photo, Leo,’ she cuts in. It’s a direct order, not a request. ‘I think that’s the least you can do for me. Surely you can fit that into your hectic work schedule.’

Oh hell no.

That’s it. That dollop of sarcasm is the last fucking straw. He doesn’t need this, not now, not ever. I’m done letting her treat him like this.

I see red.