The only sound was a tiny wave curling over and breaking on the beach. The water ran up the gently shelving sand and around Jake’s bare feet as he stood, a kite board under his arm, grinning at Rob.
But Rob was not looking amused. ‘You’re grounded, Jake.’ he said at last. ‘You could’ve easily taken his head off.’
Jake’s grin faded. He hadn’t wanted to annoy the instructor and if he told him he was exaggerating that wasn’t going to help.
‘You’ll need to apologise.’ Rob jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the taverna, where a man sitting on the terrace was glowering at them.
‘Hellfire Rob, must I? It’s …’
‘Especially because it’s him,’ Rob cut across him.
They looked steadily at each other. Rob wasn’t going to back down.
‘I suppose it was a bit stupid,’ Jake conceded at last. There were lots of harsher things that Rob could have said. Like he hadn’t spent every minute of his spare time getting him proficient at kiteboarding, only for him to go and try a crazy stunt like that.
It was an awesome stunt though, even if nobody but him saw it that way.
He put down the board and trudged up the beach towards the taverna.
What an incredible few days it had been. Windsurfing was his best sport – he had certificates and a cup to prove it – but kiteboarding was just amazing. He’d only just got home for half-term when Rob had casually mentioned the kiting gear that he’d brought with him: two boards and four kites. And Jake hadn’t needed much persuasion to get Rob down to the water.
‘You’re a natural,’ Rob told him at the end of the first day. ‘Dawn patrol tomorrow: 6:30.’
Next morning conditions were perfect. The sun was coming up over the side of Mount Pantokrator as they walked down the hill from the adventure school, the air heavy with the scent of the flowering shrubs that fringed the beach. The water was clear green and glassy calm while beyond the headlands that protected the bay, the sea was choppy under the stiffening breeze.
Jake made rapid progress and was soon jumping over the orange marker buoys they used for dinghy racing.
In the late afternoon when Rob had some free time, there was a strong breeze across the bay. Nobody was around except Spyros, working on his fishing dinghy that was pulled up on the beach. He watched them with interest for a while before settling down to his fishing nets. He was joined later by Bill Blizzard, a retired journalist now living in the village, who sat down on the sand next to the dinghy for a chat and a smoke.
Jake began to match Rob for air time as they took turns performing freestyle jumps over the buoys. Eventually it was time to go and Rob headed back to the beach. Jake set out for a final run across the clear water of the bay before he turned back, lining himself up on the distant dinghy just above the high tide mark. As he headed towards it, he noticed that Spyros had gone up to the taverna and was talking to Selena. Her long black hair was blowing in the breeze and even at this distance her anger was obvious; they were shouting at each other rather than talking. Bill Blizzard was alone, his back to the bay, taking in the drama unfolding between the taverna owner and his teenage daughter.
That old guy was always sticking his nose into other people’s business, but that’s reporters for you, Jake thought. The argument, whatever it was about, obviously had his full attention.
As he raced towards the beach, Jake suddenly knew how to give the man something else to think about. He sent the kite upwards putting strong tension into the lines and focussed on the small waves breaking on the beach, which was now coming up fast. The fishing dinghy and the unsuspecting man lay directly ahead. At the last possible moment he straightened his legs, launching the board off the back of a wave. Airborne! The kite pulled him downwind and he turned in a slow arc. At the far end of the beach, Rob watched in alarm.
He whooped as he sailed over the dinghy, before making a perfect splashdown in the shallow water and powering on down the bay.
There was a shouted curse, but he didn’t look back in case he fell off laughing.
Better do another circuit while things calm down.
When he had reached the mouth of the bay and looked towards the shore; the man was in animated conversation with Rob. He’d be told off, but that had really been worth it.
Bill Blizzard took a sip of his beer and eyed Jake as he approached. He was a small man with a neatly trimmed greying beard that hid much of his weather-beaten face. He reminded Jake of a bird with precise sharp movements and dark observant eyes.
‘I’m sorry I gave you a scare, Mr Blizzard.’ He did his best to look apologetic, his wetsuit dripping onto the terracotta paving.
‘What’s your name, boy?’ The fountain pen in his hand hovered over a spiral bound notebook on the table.
‘I’m Jake Harding,’ he replied and could have added, ‘as I’m sure you know,’ but thought better of it.
‘Son of Richard and Barbara Harding, owners of that adventure school?’ He made notes as he darted looks at Jake, who nodded.
‘Thunder Bay Adventure School?’ the journalist asked, a slight sneer on his lips.
‘Yeah, that’s right.’
‘Damn stupid name.’ He looked hard at Jake. ‘There’s hardly ever thunder at Zengounas.’
Jake shrugged. ‘There was a thunderstorm the day my parents first came here.’
‘So they named it Thunder Bay.’ He made it sound like most pathetic thing he’d ever heard.
‘Yes,’ Jake said simply. His good friend Ben, who was crazy about cricket, would call this guy a doosra – tricky, unpleasant to handle and not quite what you think. He smiled at the thought and the man’s glare got even more intense.
‘You about sixteen?’
‘Fourteen,’ Jake replied.
‘Now, listen to me.’ He took another sip of his beer before looking intently at Jake. ‘I’ve spent years as a photo-journalist all over the Levant, places like Beirut when it was an absolute hellhole, Gaza, Kosovo, all sorts. I’ve retired here for some peace and quiet and I don’t take kindly to fourteen-year-old boys flying over my head. Understood?’
‘I won’t do it again, Mr Blizzard.’
The man continued to stare at him and Jake wondered what was going through his mind. Perhaps he was wishing he was a teenager again and learning to kiteboard, but it was difficult to imagine this fierce old guy as anything different.
‘Damn right you won’t do it again. In my time I’ve been in a plane hijacking… I’ve had my car rammed…been held hostage…’
‘And now this.’ The words came out before Jake could stop them.
Bill Blizzard’s face darkened. ‘Just you watch your step, Jake Harding.’ He spat out the words. ‘I’ll be watching you…and the Thunder Bay Adventure School.’
Rob had finished packing the gear when Jake jogged back down the beach.
‘Well?’ he asked tersely.
Jake shrugged. ‘The Buzzard never seems happy.’
‘But is he going to make trouble?’
‘Don’t think so. He just told me to watch it.’
‘Impressive move by the way,’ Rob said, turning away quickly to hide a grin as he set off up the beach towards the adventure school.
‘Am I still grounded?’ Jake called after him.
‘Too right, mate,’ Rob replied over his shoulder.
He’d ask him again tomorrow. Rob never lost his cool for long.
‘Why are you grounded?’ a familiar voice called and Jake spun around. His sister, Zoë, was walking along the shoreline towards him, in blue jeans and a fleece, shoes in her hand, enjoying the soft sand between her toes.
‘Oh, something I did,’ he replied evasively.
‘Something reckless I suppose,’ she remarked.
Jake pointed to himself and mouthed, ‘me?’ Zoë rolled her eyes and nodded.
People often said how alike they were, which prompted Jake to recoil in mock horror. But Zoë was strikingly attractive with cobalt blue eyes and shoulder length dark hair. Her hair had been longer, but she’d had it cut just before coming home for two weeks of study leave. She was still waiting for Jake to notice. He had the same blue eyes and dark hair and his tall frame was becoming well-muscled with all the sport he played.
‘I saw you out in the bay,’ Zoë said. ‘Looked cool.’
‘Ask Rob to let you have a go.’
‘You’re joking,’ she exclaimed and Jake laughed at her horrified expression. ‘Anyway, I’m going to see Selena.’
‘She just had a fight with her dad.’
Zoë looked at him enquiringly.
‘Yeah, right there,’ he pointed along the beach. ‘It was like a pantomime.’
‘Poor thing; she’s upset. She just messaged me and I’ve come over.’
‘Give her my love.’
‘Jake, she’s my age,’ Zoë said witheringly. ‘I’ll give her your best wishes.’
‘Watch out for Buzzards,’ he called after her.
She turned and stuck her tongue out at him. Four years older than him, but he could always wind her up.
He heaved the kiting gear onto his shoulder. No doubt she’d tell him what the problem was with Selena.
‘Kiteboarding’s really incredible.’ Jake said across the supper table that evening. ‘Can’t we add it to the course?’
‘I wondered when you’d ask that,’ his mum said. ‘Rob’s keen, but kites would be a bit too tricky for our typical customer.’
‘If someone got hurt, Bill Blizzard would be sticking his long lens in here, pretending it’s a war zone,’ his dad said. ‘Rob told me what happened this afternoon, by the way. That was pretty foolish, Jake.’
‘Sorry, Dad, it was supposed to be a joke.’
‘We can do without jokes like that,’ his mum said firmly. ‘Particularly involving that man – he thinks the adventure school disturbs the peace of village life.’
‘And Jake just proved his point,’ his dad remarked.
‘He mightn’t like us, but he’s always chatting up Zoë,’ Jake said. ‘Saw him talking to her as I left the beach just now.’
‘He’s often at the taverna,’ his mum said. ‘So it’s not surprising they bump into each other when she goes to see Selena.’
‘He was probably complaining about kiteboarders,’ his dad said. ‘Now, go and tell Zoë supper’s ready.’
As his sister took her place at the table, Jake noticed his mum’s glance at her that seemed to say, ‘I know something’s the matter, but don’t expect me to ask what.’
He looked at Zoë as she helped herself to a small serving of pasta. There was something different about her. She was stressed for sure, but there was something else.
‘It’s not fair,’ she blurted out as they started eating.
They looked at her expectantly. Even before she’d started her drama course, Zoë had been one for dramatic statements.
‘Selena’s been sent away to her aunt in Athens,’ she said. ‘For two weeks.’
‘Her aunt is Taki’s mum, isn’t she? Their place is awesome,’ Jake said. ‘Sure she’s not gone there on holiday?’
‘You don’t listen,’ Zoë shot back. ‘Her parents have sent her away.’
‘That’s disappointing for you, she’s such a good friend,’ their mum said gently.
‘I won’t see her again this visit,’ Zoë said sadly.
‘Why have they sent her away?’ their dad asked.
‘She’s sworn to secrecy,’ Zoë said and popped a forkful of pasta into her mouth as if to emphasise that she couldn’t say anything.
‘Bet she told you why,’ Jake said. ‘C’mon Zo, the secret’s safe with us.’
Zoë ignored her brother and focussed on her supper.
‘Must be a bloke involved,’ Jake said and was rewarded with Zoë’s eyes widening in annoyance.
‘The buzzard is circling,’ he went on.
‘Don’t be disgusting,’ Zoë retorted thorough a mouthful. ‘He’s about seventy and it’s nothing to do with him.’
‘Selena’s aunt is a nice person,’ their mum said soothingly as her teenage children made faces at each other across the table.
‘Taki has shown me photos of their house in Athens,’ Jake said. ‘It’s incredible – they’ve got a massive saltwater pool.’
‘Taki’s father is Nikolai Andreadis, the shipping minister,’ their dad chimed in. ‘A billionaire by all accounts.’
‘How did Spyros’ sister get to marry a billionaire?’ Jake asked.
‘He wasn’t one when she married him,’ his dad replied. ‘He was trading fishing boats here on Corfu. She was very beautiful…a trophy for a successful young businessman. They moved to Athens and, after Taki was born, Nikolai went on to make a lot of money, then got involved in politics.’
‘And now they’re getting divorced,’ Zoë said sadly. ‘Selena will have a grim time and Taki’s not even there. He’s a sweetie, but he’s stuck here in the monastery.’
‘He’s hardly stuck,’ their dad protested. ‘It’s a year’s trial as a novice.’
Jake had never understood why Taki had wanted to spend his gap year in a monastery. But at least they’d sent him on a course at the adventure school.
‘You taught him to windsurf, I remember,’ their mum remarked, turning to Jake.
‘Yeah, he’s written to me a few times at school. He’s only allowed one letter a month…’
‘See, he is stuck,’ Zoë said. ‘And I bet you’ve not written back.’
‘He’s not on Facebook or email or anything,’ Jake said. ‘It’s nuts – you’ve got to actually write a letter.’
‘Thought so,’ Zoë said. ‘His parents are splitting up, he’s got no brothers or sisters, he’s stuck in the monastery and you can’t even be bothered to write to him.’
‘I’ll try to see him this half term,’ Jake said. ‘Maybe he can get time off to come windsurfing.’ After a moment he went on, ‘Selena could’ve come too if she hadn’t gone on holiday.’
‘She’s not gone on holiday,’ Zoë said hotly. She pushed her chair back with a fierce look at Jake. ‘I’m going for a walk along the beach.’
‘But it’s almost dark,’ her mum pointed out.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Zoë said from the hall.
‘Watch out for buzzards,’ Jake called.
The front door slammed.
‘What did I do?’ Jake asked as both his parents glared at him.
‘You were insensitive,’ his mum said.
‘It’s her hair,’ Jake said slowly. ‘She’s had it cut. That’s what’s different.’
Jake never had trouble sleeping. Especially not that night. The last few days of term had been hectic and he hadn’t slept much on the night-time flight to Corfu. The kiteboarding was brilliant and he was incredibly tired. He stretched out luxuriously, pulling the duvet around himself.
As he drifted into a peaceful sleep he seemed to be floating under a kite with Spyros and the Buzzard looking up at him. Selena and Zoë were standing together on the beach, watching him admiringly.
‘He looks so cool,’ he heard the dream Selena say.
Much later, Rob was kiting alongside him and shoving him for some reason, his hand on his shoulder.
‘We’ll get our lines tangled,’ he muttered, but the hand on his shoulder became more insistent.
‘Rob, you crazy Kiwi!’ His flight was becoming unstable and Bill Blizzard was smiling in anticipation as he got out his camera and notebook.
‘Jake!’ It was his dad’s voice.
He groaned and turned over. The bedside light was on, but it couldn’t be morning, surely?
No, there was no daylight around his curtains, so what was his dad doing?
He suddenly got that hollow feeling in his stomach – something was wrong. He sat up and stared at his dad who was dressed in jeans and a fleece with a knitted beanie on his head. Why outdoor gear at – he glanced at the alarm clock – nearly midnight?
‘It’s Zoë,’ his dad said. ‘She hasn’t come home.’
