A peace offering, Cadan decided. He shook his head but was careful to say thanks. “About coming back to LiquidEarth,” Cadan said. “If you’ll have me.” He added this last as his own form of peace offering. His father had the power in this situation and he knew that his part was to acknowledge that fact.

“Cadan, you just told me-”

“I know what I said. But I’d rather work for you.”

“Why? What happened? Adventures Unlimited not to your liking?”

“Nothing’s happened. I’m doing what you’ve wanted me to do. I’m thinking about the future.”

Lew looked out at the sea, where the surfers patiently waited for the next good swell. “I expect you have a plan of some sort?”

“You need a sprayer,” Cadan said.

“I need a shaper as well. Summer’s coming. We’re behind on our orders. We’re competing with those hollow-core boards, and what we have over them is-”

“Attention to individual needs. I know. But part of the need is the artwork, isn’t it? The look of the board as well as the shape. I can do that. That’s what I’m good at. I can’t shape boards, Dad.”

“You can learn to shape them.”

It always came down to this in the end: what Cadan wanted versus what Lew believed. “I tried. I wrecked more blanks than I shaped properly and you don’t want that. It wastes time and money.”

“You’ve got to learn. It’s part of the process and if you don’t know the process-”

“Shit! You didn’t make Santo learn the process. Why didn’t he have to learn it, start to finish, like you’re telling me?”

Lew gave his attention back to Cadan. “Because I didn’t build the goddamn business for Santo,” he said quietly. “I built it for you. But how the hell can I leave it to you if you don’t understand it?”

“So let me spray first, get that down pat, and go on to shaping afterwards.”

“No,” Lew said. “That’s not how it’s done.”

“Jesus. What the hell difference does it make how it’s done?”

“We do it my way, Cadan, or we don’t do it.”

“That’s always how it is with you. Do you ever think you might be wrong?”

“Not in this. Now get in the car. I’ll drive you back to town.”

“I’ve got-”

“I won’t have you driving Jago’s car, Cade. You’ve had your driving licence taken-”

“By you.”

“-and until you prove to me that you’re responsible enough to-”

“Forget it. Just bloody fucking forget it, Dad.”

Cadan strode across the car park to where he’d left Jago’s car. His father called his name sharply. He kept on going.

He headed back to Casvelyn, burning. All right, he thought. Bloody all right. His father wanted proof and he would prove. He’d prove until he was blue in the face, and he knew just the place to do it.

He drove with far less care on his return to town. He blasted over the bridge that spanned the Casvelyn Canal-mindless of the yield to the oncoming traffic sign, which earned him two fingers from the driver of a UPS van-and he took the roundabout at the bottom of the Strand without braking to see if he had the right of way. He coursed up the hill and charged down St. Mevan Crescent and onto the promontory. By the time he reached Adventures Unlimited, in a lather was the best description of his state.

His thoughts ran circles round the word unfair. Lew was unfair. Life was unfair. The world was unfair. His entire existence would be so simple if other people would just see things his way. But they never did.

He shoved open the door of the old hotel. He used a bit too much force, and it hit the wall with a crash that reverberated through the reception area. The sound of his entry brought Alan Cheston out of his office. He looked from the door to Cadan to his wristwatch.

“Weren’t you meant to be here this morning?” he asked.

“I had errands,” Cadan said.

“I think errands get done on your own time, not on ours.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not. Truth is, Cade, we can’t have employees who don’t show up when they’re intended to show up. In a business like this, we’ve got to be able to depend-”

“I said it won’t happen again. What more do you want? A guarantee written in blood or something?”

Alan crossed his arms. He waited a moment before making a reply and in that moment, Cadan could hear the echo of his own petulant voice. “You don’t much like to be supervised, do you?” Alan said.

“No one told me you were my supervisor.”

“Everyone here is your supervisor. Until you prove yourself, you’re rather a bit player, if you know what I mean.”

Cadan knew what he meant, but he was sick to death of proving himself. To this person, to that person, to his father, to anyone. He just wanted to get on with things, and no one was letting him. That fact made him want to hurl Alan Cheston into the nearest wall. He itched to do it, to act on the impulse and to hell with the consequence. It would feel so good.

He said, “Fuck it. I’m clearing out. I’ve come for my clobber.” He headed for the stairs.

“Have you informed Mr. Kerne?”

“You can do that for me.”

“It’ll hardly look good-”

“Like I almost care.” He left Alan staring after him, lips parted as if he was about to say more, as if he was going to point out-correctly-that if Cadan Angarrack had some sort of kit he’d left at Adventures Unlimited, it would hardly be on the upper floors of the building. But Alan said nothing, and his silence left Cadan in command, which was where he wanted to be.

He had no kit at Adventures Unlimited. No clobber, no gear, no anything. But he told himself that he would check each room he’d been in during his very brief time in the employ of the Kernes because one never knew where one had left a possession and after this, it would be a bit uncomfortable for him to have to come by and pick up anything he might have left behind…

Room after room. Door opened, a quick look inside, door closed. A quiet, “Hullo. Anyone in here?” as if he expected his supposed forgotten possessions to speak. He finally found her on the top floor, where the family lived, where he could have gone at once had he been practising honesty with himself, which he was not.

She was in Santo’s bedroom. At least, Cadan assumed that it was Santo’s bedroom by the surfing posters, the single bed, the pile of T-shirts on a chair, and the pair of trainers that Dellen Kerne was caressing on her lap when Cadan opened the door.

She was all in black, jersey and trousers and a band holding her blond hair off her face. She had on no makeup, and a scratch marked her cheek. Her feet were bare. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were closed.

Cadan said, “Hey,” in what he hoped was a gentle voice.

She opened her eyes. They fixed on him, the pupils so large that the violet of her irises was nearly obscured. She dropped the trainers to the floor with a soft thud. She held out her hand.

He went to her and helped her to her feet. He saw she had nothing on beneath her jersey. Her nipples were large, round, and rigid. He stirred at this. For once, he admitted the truth to himself. This was why he’d come to Adventures Unlimited. Jago’s advice and the rest of the world be damned.

He grazed the tip of her nipple with his fingers. Her eyelids lowered but did not close. He knew it was safe to continue. He took a step to be nearer. A hand on her waist and then circling round, cupping her bum while the other hand’s fingers stayed where they were and played like feathers against her. He bent to kiss her. Her mouth opened willingly beneath his and he pulled her more firmly against him so that she would feel what he wanted her to feel.

He said when he could, “That key you had yesterday.”

She didn’t reply. He knew she knew what he was talking about because her mouth lifted to his once more.

He kissed her. Long and deeply and it went on and on till he thought his eyeballs might pop from his head and his eardrums might burst. His slamming heart needed some place to go besides his chest because if it didn’t find another home, he reckoned he could die on the spot. He ground against her. He began to ache.