Page 28 of Ride the Wave

‘The feeling of surfing.’

‘Yes. There is nothing like it. The freedom and exhilaration of surfing a wave. But even if you don’t surf, simply being out there in the ocean is enough. That is when you understand what matters in life.’

I keep my eyes fixed on his. ‘And what does matter in life, do you think?’

‘The small things,’ he says simply. ‘The simple, everyday moments of joy and love and respect.’ A sadness flits across his expression. ‘That is what Leo needed to come here to remember. He forgot that for a while. It’s easy for that to happen. I only wish… I wish I’d persuaded him to come with me when I first moved home from Australia. We wanted different things at that time and… Anyway, he got here in the end.’

‘Do you think he has rediscovered those small moments of joy here in Burgau?’

‘When you watch him in the water, Iris, you will see for yourself. I am so proud of how far he’s come. He’s found himself again. It’s not easy to rediscover hope and confidence when you’ve been swallowed up by such sadness and misery. But like I told him when he first came here, it’s like coming off your board in a wave. You can feel uneasy and lost, your confidence shattered, but you will come up for air and everything will make sense. And then you bring what you’ve learnt from that to master the next wave, because that’s the most important thing to remember – there will always be another wave coming.’ He shoots me a grin. ‘I had to word it in a way he would understand.’

‘I think it’s a lovely way of putting it. Even if you’re not a surfer.’ I hesitate. ‘Adriano, you seem passionate about Leo finding his love of surfing after everything – do you worry about him entering the Rip Curl Pro Bells Beach contest again, being in a competitive headspace, and what it might do to his mentality?’

He ponders the question. ‘I trust Leo,’ he answers eventually. ‘If this is what Leo needs to do, then he has my support. Bells Beach… means something to him.’

I notice something flash across his expression – fear, maybe – but it’s gone too fast for me to read. As if he can tell I’m studying him, he collects himself, fixing a smile.

‘Why is Bells Beach so important? Because he grew up around there?’

‘I’ll leave that for him to answer,’ he says softly.

‘I suppose everyone wants to ring that iconic bell trophy,’ I say, steering away from the personal angle now that he’s shut it down but still hoping to get something else from him.

‘Oh yes,’ he chuckles, his expression lighting up. ‘Bells Beach is the longest-running event in the surf calendar. So much history in that wave. The champions of Bells have been some of the true greats of the sport. The bell trophy is iconic – Leo has rung it before and I believe he has what it takes to ring it again.’

‘And what about Michelle?’ I ask gingerly. ‘She seems fully supportive of his comeback. What are her thoughts on his return to the surf scene?’

‘Mmm.’ He sighs, giving me a pointed look. ‘I won’t talk about Michelle.’

Oh well. It was worth a try. ‘I understand.’

He smiles gratefully before gesturing to our empty plates. ‘Ah, now we have finished our lunch, I think we should finish the interview. You press stop on that thing,’ he gestures to my phone, ‘and we can have a proper drink.’

I burst out laughing, reaching over to press stop on the recording, dropping my phone into my bag and turning off my Dictaphone too.

‘Thank you so much, Adriano,’ I gush as he waves over his friend who owns the restaurant, asking for a bottle of wine that the owner recommends. ‘That was wonderful.’

‘Probably a lot of nonsense, but hopefully you have something there.’

‘There’s plenty, trust me.’ I grin, leaning back so the waiter can clear the table. ‘I have to say that it’s very unusual I speak to a family member before the subject themselves, but never mind. I’ve made a start.’

‘Leo will come round,’ he assures me, beaming at the owner who comes over with the bottle, clapping Adriano on the back before he fills our glasses.

‘He really does not want to do this.’

‘No, but he gave his mother his word. And you, also.’ He holds up his glass to toast. ‘To your article. I hope that the world gets to see the real Leo.’

I clink my glass against his. ‘Me too. Cheers.’

‘Saúde.’

We sip our drinks and I smile my approval of his wine choice.

‘So, do you surf, Iris?’ he asks.

‘No,’ I say, tensing.

‘You should. I think you would like it. I read your articles and I like that you give the sport a go yourself. The greats make it look so easy, but you show your readers what that takes to achieve,’ he says, watching me as I fiddle with the edge of the tablecloth. ‘The article about the skier was very moving.’

---