The Hidden Beach

by Karen Swan

  They’re not the only ones, she thought, looking at Max’s bitter expression and sorrowful eyes. Somehow, she sensed they both knew tomorrow was going to be the day he woke up and Hanna finally left him.

  Ingarso, Stockholm archipelago, 15 June 2012

  ‘He’s so fast!’ he laughed, standing at the door and watching Linus proudly totter down the long corridor, scarcely bending at the knees, arms held out to bounce off the walls. The old oak floors gleamed in the early evening light, all valuables removed from the consoles, lest he should charge into them.

  ‘He’s the fastest in kindergarten,’ she said, and he heard the pride in her voice, saw how her eyes shone, her hands pressed to her mouth, a wince already hovering at the corners of her eyes as she braced and waited for the topple.

  It didn’t come. One length safely navigated, Linus turned and headed back again.

  ‘I’m beginning to see your mother in him, I think,’ he said.

  ‘On account of the walk?’ Her eyes shone with amusement at her own joke. ‘What are you trying to say?’

  He laughed. ‘Around the mouth!’

  She watched him with a rapt expression. ‘Thank God you’re back. We’ve missed you.’ She kissed him, squeezing him in her embrace too. She was still slim, but her body was softer since having the baby. Everything about her was softer. Motherhood had, if not quite tamed her, certainly muted her somewhat.

  ‘I’ve missed you too. Fill me in on everything.’ He shrugged off his jacket, feeling his cares roll back. This was his first trip out here of the summer, having been caught in a roster of weeks of back-to-back travel, and already he could feel the archipelago’s calm push down on him like a weighted blanket.

  She set down a glass of rosé in front of him, and it caught the light. His eyes fell to the pretty flesh tone, the promise of summer. ‘Well, there was a fright last week with Jakob, the harbourmaster – did you hear about his accident?’

  His brow furrowed. ‘No. What happened?’

  ‘He tripped and fell in the water when the ferry was docking.’

  His eyebrows shot up in alarm. ‘No!’

  ‘It’s okay. He’ll live. The bow thrusters were on, but not the engines. But he could have been crushed against the walls, of course.’

  ‘Is he all right?’

  ‘He’s in hospital with a badly broken leg. They had to put in metal plates and pins. He’s in a bad way, poor man; his wife says he can’t tolerate the morphine.’

  He winced. ‘Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down.’

  ‘I know,’ she agreed. ‘He’s being very brave, though. Apparently he’s loving all the fuss. The entire island’s been to visit him, just about.’

  ‘It’ll make a change him being the subject of gossip for once, and not just the bearer.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  They clinked glasses, eyes meeting momentarily in a soft embrace, and he felt that sense of ease descend over him that he got any time she was near. It felt so good to be back; he had long ago realized she was his home. Linus waddled back into the room, falling inelegantly onto his bottom as he tried to pick up his favourite toy, a vintage matchbox car – a red Corvette, by the looks of it.

  He looked back at her, seeing how her gaze dipped and skipped away from him as the small talk dwindled. She was flighty and nervous. ‘And you? How are you? Really? You sounded down last time I called. I’ve been worried.’

  ‘Oh, I’m fine.’ She bit her lip, her body language changing. ‘I shouldn’t have thrown it all at you, like that, I’m sorry. You’re so busy and—’

  ‘Hanna.’ He stopped her short. ‘You don’t ever need to apologize to me. You know that.’

  She bit her lip and nodded. ‘I know. And I know it’s just hormones, the doctor keeps telling me that.’ Her brow furrowed quizzically. ‘I just thought it would have passed by now. I mean, he’s walking! You’d think I’d be through it by now . . . I want to get back to feeling like my old self again, you know?’

  He nodded. Her hand was lying flat on the table, and he reached over and held it in his. ‘We all want that too. Because you do know how very loved you are, don’t you?’

  For a moment, a flash of her old playfulness tripped over her like a sunbeam and she tossed her head haughtily. ‘No, I’m not sure I do. How loved am I, exactly?’

  Their eyes met, the connection vibrating like a gold thread between them. ‘Only to the stars and back, and for all of eternity.’

  He had never meant a word more, but he waited for one of her more waspish remarks. But though her mouth opened, she looked away, something unsaid residing in her profile. He frowned as her silence lengthened. ‘Hanna . . .?’

  She looked back at him, tears shining in her eyes. Her lips were quivering as she tried to hold back emotions she didn’t want to show. But it was no good. A single tear slid down her cheek, utterly perfect and pure on her pale, velvety skin. Without even thinking, he reached over and rubbed it with his thumb. ‘Talk to me. What’s going on?’

  ‘. . . What if it’s not the baby blues?’ she whispered. ‘What if it’s . . . actually about something else that’s wrong? What if it’s about . . .’ She swallowed. ‘Us?’

  His heart pounded faster as he realized what she was saying to him, the desperation in her eyes for him to acknowledge the truth.

  ‘I don’t think it’s going to get better.’ She shook her head more quickly now, her conviction beginning to harden. ‘No matter how much I try, I don’t think I can keep pretending with things the way they are. I’m not happy. You know I’m not.’

  ‘I know, of course I do, but –’

  A familiar beating sound suddenly made them both look up, descending upon the house like a thundercloud. They looked back at each other, the helicopter’s downdraft already flattening the flowers outside the windows.

  She gave an unhappy laugh at the timing, but he could see her devastated look was already being bitten back. ‘Always so damned prompt,’ she said with a single shake of her head, but below the withering top notes, he heard despair.

  ‘Hanna, we need to talk about this –’ He reached for her hand again, but she withdrew it quickly and began patting her eyes dry with her fingertips. Several moments later, she was remade again – no trace left of her distress – and she looked back at him with her usual composure. It was an incredible thing to witness, to see the mask being put back on.

  ‘It’s fine, honestly. There’s really nothing to say, anyway. My mind is made up.’ She pushed back her chair and rose, her meaning clear – the rest of the dinner party was arriving; their precious time alone together was already up. ‘I’m leaving him.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‘You’ve got to keep it together,’ Nina said, watching from her spot on the armchair as he criss-crossed the room.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘No. You’re like a tiger in one of those zoos – pacing, pacing, pacing. You’re setting me on edge, and I’m already one gin and tonic into my afternoon.’ She watched as he tracked a figure of eight around the settle and past the ottoman. ‘At least take those sunglasses off. It’s quite disturbing looking at you wearing those things in the house.’

  ‘It’s not a fashion statement, Nina,’ he said through gritted teeth, wishing she would stop telling him what to do. ‘It’s helping with my –’ He suddenly grimaced and doubled over, clutching his head between his hands. The room had gone black, but his mind was alive with colour, images flashing past in an incomprehensible flash – faces, noises, pain. And Hanna. Always Hanna. Her clear eyes, a streak of her pale hair, the dazzling whiteness of her perfect teeth. And then the darkness enfolding him like a mother’s arms, taking him away, keeping him safe . . .

  He came to. Still standing, albeit stooped, Nina with her arm around him, a look he’d never seen in her eyes before.

  Fear.

  ‘I’m calling Cathy,’ she said, guiding him over to a chair. He sank into it without protest, feeling his body slowly start to relax agai
n, nerve ending by nerve ending. He knew the rhythm now. The pain built up in waves, whipping to a crescendo before dropping him like a body from a plane, no parachute.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Clearly not.’

  ‘She was here yesterday,’ he mumbled. ‘Just before you arrived. She ran the usual tests and there’s nothing more sinister at play. It’s just the concussion. It’ll pass. She’s told Måns what to watch out for, don’t worry.’

  ‘Well, I do. It’s irksome, but there you have it. It’s not like I’ve not got enough to think about, without worrying your head is going to explode at any moment.’ She sniffed. ‘God, that would ruin the rugs.’

  Even through his pain, he managed a smile. ‘I’ll do my best to avoid the rugs, then.’

  She rewarded him with a half-smile as she retrieved her drink from the side table and sank back into her chair, watching him. ‘What time is everyone coming?’

  ‘From now. Linus is down there, waiting for them.’

  ‘Hmph. Anyone would think he’s missed them. Sentimental little thing, isn’t he?’

  ‘If by sentimental you mean loving, then yes.’

  Nina took a sip of her drink, staring at the ice cubes as they clattered gently. ‘It’s funny that the nanny didn’t come back.’

  He looked at her, hearing the slice in her tone. ‘Funny ha-ha?’

  ‘A shame,’ she said. ‘I rather liked her. Thought she had spirit.’

  ‘She certainly has energy,’ he muttered.

  ‘What did you do to scare her off?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything.’ That was the truth, at least. He had done nothing. Let her go. Made her leave –

  Nina arched an eyebrow. ‘Emil, please. I am not a fool,’ she drawled. ‘She clearly had an impact on you.’

  ‘How?’ he snapped. ‘In what way? What was the impact she had on me?’

  ‘Well, she seemed to bring up your . . . what’s the word? . . . anima.’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘You know, your life force. You seemed more alive whenever she was around.’

  ‘Nina, you can’t be more alive. You’re either alive or dead. There’s no –’ He stopped short. He was the living proof that there was a middle ground. ‘Look, if I seemed more lively, it was because Linus was here. She’s just the nanny. She was only ever supposed to be here for a few days to help Linus settle in, until he and I got to know one another.’

  Her eyes narrowed interestedly. ‘You know, you always say that about her.’

  ‘What do I say?’

  ‘That’s she’s The Nanny. Just the nanny. Like it’s a spell, or something. As though reducing her to just her job will somehow diminish her. You’re not trying to lessen her impact on you, are you?’ She gave a contented smile, pleased to have circled her argument. ‘You forget I know you too well, little brother. You never could keep any secrets from me.’

  He was too tired to argue, the pain draining him. ‘I know what you’re doing, you know.’

  ‘Do you? What am I doing, then?’

  ‘You’re trying to divert me from Hanna, but I’m afraid you’re too late. We’re back together.’

  Nina stared at him, for once lost for words. ‘. . . Does Hanna know?’ she asked eventually.

  ‘What do you –?’ he blustered. ‘Of course she knows! I’m not delusional!’

  ‘Well, you are concussed.’

  ‘I haven’t imagined this. She was very definitely in my bed a few nights ago.’

  ‘I see.’ She took a slow sip of her drink, watching him, assessing for the micro-movements that would supposedly tell her whether he was lying.

  ‘It can’t be that surprising, surely?’ he asked, offended by her evident disbelief. ‘She is my wife and the mother of my child.’

  ‘Mmm, but someone else’s too, though. That’s the bugger.’

  He looked away, the words like razors, drawing blood.

  ‘Does Max know?’

  ‘He’s no fool. He must suspect. Hanna and I weren’t exactly discreet at the weekend. We went to the hotel for dinner; plenty of people saw us there together.’ An image of Bell at the sea club – all languid curves and drunken laughs, hanging off Mats – flashed through his mind and he physically shook his head, casting her out.

  Nina frowned as she watched him. ‘But she hasn’t had the decency to tell him yet?’

  ‘It’s a difficult thing to do, Nina. She’s waiting for the right moment.’

  ‘Or she’s keeping her options open.’

  He shot her a sharp look, refusing to go down this path. Nina loved to argue the way most women liked to shop. ‘She knows we can’t maintain this charade forever. It’s time the truth was out.’

  There was a small pause as Nina absorbed the information. ‘Oh, so that’s why you’ve got them all coming here. This is your birthday present to yourself,’ she murmured, sipping her drink again.

  ‘I –’ He felt another spasm ricochet through his skull and he winced, emitting an involuntary gasp. ‘I’m fine,’ he whispered as soon as he could speak, knowing she would be looking at him with fright again. It was a minute before he had recovered enough to look back at her. ‘I’m fine.’

  She watched him, knowing he was lying, knowing he wouldn’t let her help. She looked away, back into the ice cubes of her drink. ‘So how do you feel about seeing Max again?’ she asked, picking up the interrogation like it was a glove she had dropped.

  ‘I haven’t thought about it.’

  ‘That seems rather disingenuous. You two were like brothers when you were little. I used to feel quite jealous.’

  ‘I’m not interested in Max. Hanna and Linus are my only concerns. We can come to some arrangement, I’m sure.’ Bitterness inflected the words, his patience worn thin by the pain. He needed to lie down before they got here.

  ‘Pay him off, you mean?’ Nina gave one of her staccato laughs. ‘Ha! The apple really didn’t fall from the tree, did it? Daddy would be so proud.’

  His head jerked up at her barbs. ‘Well, how do you think I feel, Nina? He was the closest thing I ever had to a true friend, and I woke up to find he’s got with my wife and taken my family as his own! I thought he was different; I thought he didn’t care about who we were and what we had; but he’s just like all the rest, trying to get a slice of the pie. He might not be able to get the penthouse or the boat, but my wife? My sad, frightened wife, told by the doctors she’s a half-widow? He wasted no time moving in, did he?’ His eyes glowed like night flares. ‘So don’t ask me how I feel about seeing him, or tell me he’s my brother. I owe him nothing. He took the best things in my life and made them his own. And now, when I take them back, it’ll be his life that’s destroyed. What’s coming, he knew would someday come. He’s always known it.’

  Bell kept her eyes on the jetty, feeling her pulse quicken as they drew ever closer over the water. Bunting, strung along the handrails, was flapping noisily, and bunches of brightly coloured balloons bobbed manically from the trees, announcing a celebration to the rest of the lagoon. The weather was forecast to change, a spell of low pressure moving in from Finland, and gusty winds were already whipping and skimming over the lagoon, the water a desolate grey. The tideline was higher up the beach than she recalled, too, almost to the grass.

  Tilde was sitting to her right, Elise to her left, their little bodies awkward in the lifejackets. Max was driving the boat and Hanna was up towards the front, ready to jump off and secure the lines as they docked. There was a strange, proprioceptive mood on board, and even the girls were sitting quietly (for once) and peering up at the adults with enquiring expressions.

  They could already see Linus waving to them. Long before he was visible, they could see the white flag in his hand, the one he waved at night to Hanna across the water, a silent communication between mother and son. It was ragged and faded with time. She remembered what Max had told her about their boyhood jaunts on the water, and how their parents had gathered them home with exactly that system
. It was intended as a welcome, but today it looked just as much like a warning.

  She saw Max see it too and stiffen, his movements thrusting and abrupt as he manoeuvred the boat towards the shore, no hint of his usual relaxed manner.

  ‘Did you see me?’ Linus yelled, as the boat nudged against the dock and he grabbed the ropes with the instincts of someone raised on the water.

  They all jumped off, the girls running to him for hugs. He submitted, but with a look of almost comical distaste.

  ‘You look funny!’ Elise exclaimed. ‘What are they?’ She pointed to his trainers – box fresh with chunky soles, and red and black detailing on them.

  ‘They’re Nikes. You can’t buy them in Europe. My dad got them for me.’

  His initials – his birthright initials – had been embroidered across the back – LVG. It was an aggressive move. Bell glanced at Max, and saw from his ashen expression that he had spotted it too.

  ‘Did he indeed?’ Hanna asked in a bemused, indulgent tone, kissing the top of his head. ‘Well, I shall have to speak to him about that. That’s far too extravagant for a boy of ten.’

  ‘I want some!’ Tilde cried.

  ‘Well, you can’t. My dad’s rich, that’s why he can get them, but I already told you – they’re not available in Sweden.’ Linus shrugged, beginning to walk ahead, leading the way.

  Hanna and Max stared after him, mouths agape. Hanna went to run after him, but Max caught her by the arm and shook his head. ‘Let it be. He’s had a lot to deal with.’

  He had. But was this how it was going to be? Bell felt a kernel of dread settle in her gut. She had been gone only four days, Hanna only one. How much could the child have been altered – spoiled – in that time? What else had Emil done to buy back his love?

  They followed after him, into the trees. The shade was a welcome respite from the muggy heat as they trod the path in silence, single file; it was a chance for them not only to escape the glare and pounding heat, but to collect their thoughts before a meeting that was inevitably going to be fractious.