Page 34 of Ride the Wave

He finally chooses somewhere, plonking himself down.

‘Are you warm enough?’ he asks, as he gestures for me to sit down next to him while taking off his shoes and socks, placing them neatly to his other side. ‘I can run to the shop and get some hoodies if we need; I have a couple in there.’

‘I’m fine,’ I say, even though it is getting a bit chillier.

I carefully place myself down on the sand next to him, aware that he’s watching as I try to do so as elegantly as possible. I catch a glimpse of him smirking when I brush some sand off my bag once I’ve popped it next to me.

‘What?’ I ask, bristling.

He fights a smile. ‘Nothing.’

‘Oh, I get it. I’m being veryLondon, is that it?’

He doesn’t say anything.

While I get my phone and Dictaphone ready – I had made sure they were both in my bag on the way out to the yoga class, just in case my invasion into his yoga practice did have a positive impact – he bends his knees up, resting his forearms on them, and digs his toes into the sand.

‘Will the sound of the waves be a problem?’ he asks, looking out at the ocean getting darker in the evening light.

‘No, we’re far away enough from the water,’ I say gratefully, placing them on the stretch of sand between us. ‘Are you happy for me to hit record?’

He nods, keeping his eyes fixed ahead, his jaw tense. He’s getting nervous now.

‘That was an impressive speech you made back there,’ he remarks as the recording begins. ‘I wasn’t expecting it.’

‘Me neither,’ I admit.

He gives a wry smile. ‘I must have pushed you over the edge.’

I hesitate. ‘Leo, I know this isn’t something you wanted to do—’

‘But we’re here now,’ he interjects, turning to look at me. ‘I can’t back out. My dad reminded me of that this afternoon when he came back from your lunch.’

‘It was a very nice lunch.’

‘Yeah, I noticed he’d had a few.’ He raises his eyebrows. ‘Your influence?’

‘All him.’

‘Sounds about right.’ He sighs, throwing his head back to look up at the sky. ‘Go on then. I’m ready. What’s the first question?’

I stretch my legs out in front of me, leaning back on my elbows. Just like when I ordered the wine in the bar with him, I’m making a show of this being as informal as he likes. If this is going to go well, he has to relax into it. That means I do too. Or at least give the impression that I’m doing so.

‘Do you remember the first time you surfed?’

He turns to look at me in surprise. ‘That’s the first question?’

‘You don’t think it’s a good one?’

‘No, I… it’s fine.’ He’s folded his arms across the top of his knees and he’s tapping one of his fingers on his elbow nervously. ‘No,’ he says. ‘I don’t remember it.’

‘You were young when you started, your dad was telling me.’

He nods silently.

Fuck’s sake.I knew it was going to be like drawing blood from a stone, but I really hope it gets better than this otherwise I’m going to have a huge job on my hands hitting the word count for this feature.

‘Did you love it straight away? What drew you to it in the first place?’

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