Luke was still busy going over his kit. He checked every buckle and clip once, then did so again in exactly the same order. Then again. He looked up. ‘Hey, Eth,’ he said. ‘Want me to check your kit?’

‘We’ve got it covered,’ said Johnny. ‘But I’ll let you know if his lapels need doing. You did bring the steam iron, didn’t you?’

Everyone laughed.

‘There’s nothing wrong with making sure everything’s right,’ said Luke. ‘But I’m afraid I left the iron in the hangar.’

‘That is a shame.’

‘Indeed. But I’m sure we’ll survive. We always do.’

‘Crumpled lapels and all! We really are something, aren’t we?’

Ethan liked the way the team ribbed each other. It was one of the things that made them work so well together.

Sam pulled himself into the plane and sat down next to Ethan. He looked over at Luke. ‘At least one of you is bothered about the seven Ps,’ he said. ‘So, are you all up here for a reason or just to piss around?’

‘To support Ethan,’ said Kat, then slowly turned and rested her eyes on him. ‘Isn’t that right?’

Ethan smiled back, but he knew that his eyes weren’t joining in. Yeah, there was definitely an edge to Kat. But so what? It was her problem, not his. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ he said. ‘Kat’s really trying to make me feel part of the team – aren’t you, Kat?’

Kat gave him a sweeter-than-sweet smile as the pilot called through, and then the plane was taxiing for takeoff.

A few minutes later, they were airborne, and Ethan spent the rest of the flight totally focused on his next jump. He ran through the exit procedure, flicked through the hand signals, mentally rehearsed the forward roll, the 360-degree turns, deploying his canopy, and when the time came, he didn’t hesitate to jump…

The level-seven jump went well. Sam told him so, and so did everyone else – even Kat. Only one jump remained. And for that, Ethan would be totally on his own.

The next day, when he headed out to the plane for his level-eight jump, Ethan found himself sitting in the back of the minibus with Sam and one other skydiver. Sam was there to supervise his safe exit from the plane, but he wouldn’t be jumping this time. The thought didn’t scare Ethan as much as he would have expected a few days ago. He knew what he was doing now, and any fear he felt just kept his mind on the job. It was a useful emotion to have and he never wanted to get to the stage where he wasn’t at least a little nervous. Johnny was staying on the ground to film him landing his level eight.

Ethan looked at the other skydiver. Whereas he himself was dressed in borrowed kit from FreeFall, none of which was all that flattering, the other skydiver was in black, head to toe, with a black helmet, mirrored visor down. When Ethan looked over, he caught his own reflection in the visor. The man nodded; Ethan nodded back. Then the minibus arrived at the plane and soon they were taxiing down the runway.

The flight was smooth: no bumps – not that Ethan cared. He was jumping at 5,000 feet, opening at 3,500. Sam quizzed Ethan with a few questions, checked his kit, made sure everything was good. Ethan knew it took about ten seconds to fall the first 1,000 feet, then another five seconds for every 1,000 from then on. That gave him about fifteen seconds of freefall time. It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough. All the other stuff he’d been doing during his previous jumps, such as 360s and front rolls and tracking, was about improving his confidence in the air. But jumping at 5,000 feet didn’t allow time to do any of that. This time he’d be totally focused on what the level-eight jump was all about: executing a clean exit, getting stable, deploying the canopy, then making a good landing in the field by the DZ.

That was all there was to it.

Simple.

The call came from the pilot. They were now on the jump run – five minutes to exit. Ethan felt adrenaline rip through him, and started the countdown in his head.

Five…

He began to run through everything he’d been taught by Sam and Johnny: how to exit, how to arch his back to flip over and stabilize in flight.

Four…

He rehearsed how to deploy his canopy, and what to do if he had to cut away.

Three…

His dad’s face flickered momentarily in his mind, telling him he was a waster, a mistake. But Ethan knew better now; knew just how wrong his dad was, had always been. He pushed the image away.

Two…

He focused on the sense of self-belief and purpose that Johnny and Sam had given him. Skydiving was fast taking over his life. He was determined to be the best.

One…

He knew he could do it. He wasn’t backing out now. Time to focus…

Zero…

Ethan jumped…

… and his exit was smooth. He fell from the plane, saw it above him, arched his back to flip himself over and stabilize. The view was more vivid than on any other dive he’d done, like he was even more aware of what was around him because he was up there alone.

Shit, I’m alone… Ethan felt his face break into a smile. He beamed. And then he laughed.

This is it! I’m really skydiving! YES!

He checked his altimeter, eye-balled the DZ, kept himself stable. The air rushing past felt like it was trying to rip his head off: 4,000 feet; 3,900… 3,800… 3,700… 3,600… 3,500…

Ethan pulled the ripcord.

No sound had ever made him feel so relieved as this one – his canopy bursting into life above him, pulling him from 120 mph to 10 mph in a matter of seconds.

He checked everything, made sure the toggles were working OK, banked left, right, pulled himself round to head towards the DZ.

Something caught his eye, far off and above him. It was the other skydiver.

Must’ve left soon after me, he thought as he saw the final moments of the diver’s canopy opening. But that wasn’t important. All that mattered was this moment.

He’d just jumped from a plane. On his own.

Ethan was on top of the world.

Ethan landed smoothly as Sam jogged over, Johnny in tow.

‘Well?’ Sam asked.

Ethan grinned, pulled his canopy in, and rolled it up to take it back to the hangar.

‘Reckon he enjoyed it,’ said Johnny.

‘Then we consolidate,’ said Sam. ‘We can get a couple of jumps in today if you’re interested.’

‘Oh, I’m interested,’ Ethan replied.

‘Good,’ said Sam. ‘I’ll go sort out a fresh rig for you.’ And he turned to walk back to the hangar.

Johnny followed, calling for Ethan to hurry up. ‘I’ll book us into the next available space,’ he said. ‘Sam’s coming with us as well. You must’ve impressed him.’

‘Really?’ said Ethan. ‘I thought you did the consolidation stuff on your own.’

‘You do,’ said Johnny. ‘You’ll be doing it all by yourself. We’re just coming along for the ride. But you need to know one thing…’

‘What’s that then?’ asked Ethan.

Johnny smiled. ‘If Sam’s coming, then you’re really in the shit!’

Ethan stopped mid-step. ‘Why’s that?’

‘It’s simple,’ said Johnny. ‘If you’re average, Sam leaves you alone. Not interested. Better things to do. But if you show promise, then he can’t help himself; he goes all out to make you better and better. And that’s hard work because he’s never happy with anything but perfection.’ He stopped and smiled. ‘After all, look at me!’

Ethan laughed. All the way back to the hangar he was quizzed on his first solo, but inside he was thinking about what Johnny had just said. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud that somehow he’d impressed Sam. He knew that wasn’t easy. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it. Everything had happened so fast since he’d first met Johnny. Now here he was, a qualified skydiver.

Luke came out of the hangar to meet them.

‘Well done, Eth,’ he said. ‘Welcome to the club.’ He reached out and shook Ethan’s hand. ‘Sam’s told me you’re off up again in a bit so I’ve sorted you out a new rig. Johnny – you can repack your own.’