by Karen Swan
She reminded herself this was not her family; theirs were not her dramas. She was merely a bystander, a paid agent for the welfare of the children. She had nothing to worry about. But as they emerged from the trees and she saw the blue helicopter sitting on the lawn, blades drooping like a resting dragonfly, she felt her heart leap like a bucking horse.
Hanna too, seemingly. ‘Fuck,’ she muttered, stopping dead at the sight of it. ‘He never said she was going to be here.’
‘Nina,’ Max said under his breath, with the weariness of a parent saying ‘teenagers’.
The girls ran straight towards it, led by Linus, who couldn’t stop himself from boasting. ‘We went out on that last night. We went really high. You’d have been terrified.’
‘No I wouldn’t! I want to go on it,’ Elise hollered, suddenly close to tears, and Bell ran forward, scooping her into her arms. She knew the toddler sensed Linus’s hostility, his anger and defiance, and she felt a stab of remorse that she had left him here alone. This was her fault. She had indulged her own feelings of humiliation, and put her own need to get away above his need to have her stay.
‘Linus, that wasn’t kind,’ she said firmly. ‘Apologize to your sister, please.’
‘No! She’s not my sister! I don’t have to be nice to her, and you can’t make me. You’re just the nanny.’ And he suddenly sprinted away, up the lawn and into the house, his arms pounding like pistons.
Bell felt like she’d been punched.
‘Oh my God,’ Hanna whispered, watching him go.
‘He’ll settle,’ Max said unconvincingly. ‘He’s just overwhelmed. His emotions are too big to process just now, but he’ll get there. Give him time.’
‘I don’t understand how you can be so calm about this,’ Hanna cried, scooping up Tilde, who had started to cry too. ‘He’s rejecting us. You!’
‘Yes. And we have to show him that no matter what he says or does, we love him and we’re not leaving him. He needs to see we won’t abandon him. Okay?’ He smoothed a hand through her hair, calming her.
Bell watched, knowing their easy intimacy was invisible to them both. Hanna had been captivated by Emil’s reckless, nothing-to-lose passion for her. Did this cosy familiarity feel boring by comparison? Was she going to give it up for the excitement – and glamour – of life as Emil Von Greyer’s wife again?
They walked on. Max, looking stiff and paler than ever, still had that air of resignation about him; but she saw now that it wasn’t a defeated position, but an accepting one. Perhaps the guilt of falling in love with his old friend’s wife was too much, whatever the mitigating circumstances? Maybe he saw himself as the villain in this tragedy?
‘Look, Pappa, it’s orange!’ Elise pointed excitedly at the house, forgetting her tears as they moved past the large helicopter and stopped in their tracks again.
‘So it is,’ Max murmured, taking in the sight. A carousel had been set up on the lawn, a bouncy castle and helter-skelter beside it; at the sight of the children, there were suddenly jugglers, fire-breathers, stilt-walkers and a marching band, all advancing across the lawn from the wooded fringes. Balloons had been tied to every single tree, so that it felt the entire island might be lifted out of the sea at any moment and drift heavenwards.
Both girls shrieked with utter delight, wriggling from the women’s arms and heading straight for the carousel. Bell saw the gardener standing to attention beside it, clearly commandeered as the operator for the day. This time Hanna said nothing, and Max bit his lip as he watched his daughters race headlong into his rival’s honeytrap.
Nina was standing on the terrace, watching and waiting, one arm strapped across her stomach, the other holding a cigarette. Plumes of smoke drifted into the sky as she blew out through the side of her mouth, eyes narrowed as they slowly approached, awed into silence.
‘Nina,’ Hanna said evenly, stopping directly in front of her on the steps. ‘How are you? It’s been ages.’
‘Hasn’t it?’ Nina drawled, allowing a kiss on each cheek before she turned her attention to Max. ‘Now you I really haven’t seen in a while.’
‘It’s good to see you, Nina.’
‘Is it, though?’ she laughed drily, though her eyes danced. She looked at Bell. ‘Hello again.’
‘Hello.’
‘You’re dressed this time!’
Bell’s mouth opened in astonishment, and she saw Hanna’s head whip round. ‘I . . . It wasn’t how that sounds,’ she said quickly. ‘I can explain.’
This time Nina did laugh properly. ‘Oh, please don’t! Life’s far more interesting if you never complain, never explain. Let them wonder.’
Bell looked at Hanna and Max with wide eyes, feeling curiously silenced. To deliver a comprehensive explanation somehow felt more damning.
‘Mmm,’ Nina smiled with relish, seeing how they had collectively paused, all of them on the back foot, as though held in abeyance. ‘This is going to be fun.’
‘Where is he, Nina?’ Hanna wasn’t smiling now.
‘Linus? He’s gone to his b—’
‘Emil.’
‘I’m here.’
They all looked over. He was leaning just inside the frame of the French doors. He looked pale but still punch-in-the-stomach handsome, his eyes burning as he took in the group gathered on his terrace. Beside her, Bell felt Max tense, the air around him somehow changing, becoming paler, thinner, less substantial.
Slowly, Emil walked over to them. Bell thought he looked like he was in pain; there was a hesitancy to his movements, a tightness across his face. She lowered her gaze, wishing she could disappear, become spectral. But he wasn’t looking at her, or Hanna.
The two men stared at one another – similar in height, but where Max had the pale skin and soft muscles of the office worker, Emil was spry and tanned, looking older than his thirty-one years. It seemed somehow innately understood that Emil would be the one to break the silence and lead the conversation. This was his birthday, his home, his island, his family, after all. It seemed an age before he held out a hand. ‘Hello, Max.’
Max shook it. ‘Emil.’
‘You look older.’
‘You look well.’
A tiny smile half-cocked Emil’s mouth. ‘I caught up on my beauty sleep.’
The same half-smile tipped Max’s mouth, but the humour hadn’t risen to their eyes, not yet, and the atmosphere remained tense in spite of the civility.
‘It’s good of you to have gone to this effort for the girls,’ Max said, waving a hand in the general direction of the lawn amusements.
‘Shame the weather isn’t quite playing ball,’ Emil nodded. ‘But I wanted to make them feel at home.’
His words were light, courteous even, but the threat glinted just below the surface like a vein of steel. Home. Here. Bell realized she was holding her breath as the men kept their gazes steady.
‘Come, let’s have a drink while the girls play,’ he said suddenly, breaking into the gracious smile of ‘mein hoste’ and leading them towards the large round table on the terrace. It had been set with a dark-grey linen tablecloth and a low bowl arranged with pale-pink dahlias, a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket to the side. ‘It’s my birthday, after all. We should be celebrating. I slept through the last seven.’
Måns, who had been standing unseen by them all, stepped forward as though into physical being and elegantly unpopped the cork as they walked over.
‘Hanna, why don’t you sit here, next to me,’ Emil said, motioning to the chair beside him. All eyes swivelled in his direction. ‘That way, the girls will see their mother chatting and laughing beside me and know I’m not a big scary monster.’
‘Right,’ Hanna said, looking wan, her eyes sliding between both men, but Max was looking away, pretending to admire the gardens. Bell knew he was only pretending because she could see the ball of his jaw, clenched in tension.
‘I’d better go and check on Linus,’ she said, stepping back away from their group. She wa
sn’t a guest here, after all, but an employee.
Emil’s eyes flashed towards her – the first time he’d looked at her since arriving, the first time since that night, across the bedroom – I’m awake – and she felt frozen to the spot by their burning intensity. He released her again in the next moment, and she turned away with a gasp.
‘So, thirty-one today,’ Hanna said behind her with forced levity, her voice strained with the desperate urge to see today pass without hitch. ‘My, my.’
‘Well, I still haven’t decided yet whether I should consider this my thirty-first or my twenty-fifth . . .’ she heard Emil saying as she stepped into the house.
Out of sight, Bell sagged against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to recover. The way Emil had looked at her so angrily, as though he hated her too . . . Did he despise her for her act of defiance in refusing to return? He was bristling with a hostility that was made worse by concealing it beneath a veil of manners. Outright contempt, anger and swinging fists would have been preferable to that.
She found Linus in his bedroom, sitting against the far wall beside the open window. He had his head on his knees and was rolling the Corvette back and forth on the ground, listening to the murmur of adult conversation below, the occasional shrieks drifting up of his little sisters having fun without him. Dozens of books lay face down on the floor, some of the pages ripped out and scattered around him.
‘Hey.’ He looked up, his face tear-streaked, and she felt her heart break. ‘Oh darling,’ she whispered, rushing over to him and enveloping him in a hug.
‘I’m fine,’ he said defiantly, allowing himself to be held nonetheless as she kissed his hair and rubbed his shoulders, the way he liked her to when he was sick.
They sat in silence for several minutes. She wouldn’t push him if he didn’t want to talk about it.
‘How was yesterday?’ she whispered. It had been his first full day alone here when Hanna had come back to Summer Isle, and Bell had refused to return. Already she hated herself for it.
‘. . . It was okay,’ he said eventually, his voice thick. ‘We helped get the garden ready and then we went on the helicopter.’
‘Wow, you’re so lucky. I’ve never been on one. Was it amazing?’
‘Yeah.’
She gave a little smile. ‘That didn’t sound very convincing.’
‘I’m just tired,’ he sighed, closing his eyes as a few tears silently slipped past his lashes.
‘I know you are,’ she murmured, feeling the knife twist in her heart and ruffling his hair with her fingers. ‘It’s been a busy time lately. The girls have missed you so much.’
‘Mmm.’
‘They went straight onto the carousel. Have you had a ride yet?’
‘No. I’m ten.’
‘Ah, yes. The fire-breathers are cool, though.’
He sighed, impatient with her attempts at conversation.
‘We could go for a walk if you like. Get away from here for a bit. We could go swimming on the far side.’
His shoulders convulsed under her hands, and she realized he was sobbing.
‘What’s going to happen?’ he asked, his voice thick.
‘. . . I just don’t know, sweetie. I don’t think anyone does.’
‘Mamma loves him.’
She swallowed. ‘Of course. She and your dad were married. They had you. They’ll always love each other.’
‘But she loves him now.’ He looked back at her, and she knew he somehow knew his parents were a couple again. What had he seen? Please God, not what she had. ‘So what about Pappa?’
Her mouth opened, but no words would come. What was she supposed to say? ‘Well, that’s why it’s complicated, because Mummy loves him too. They fell in love when they were both sad about your dad, and then they had the girls. So although that isn’t your dad’s fault, it’s not your pappa’s either. No one’s a bad guy here.’
He lay his head back down on his knees, looking younger than his ten years, tears continually pooling and overflowing in his clear green eyes.
‘. . . Will I have to choose?’
‘Choose? Oh no, darling! Oh no, no, no, no, of course not. Emil and Max both love you very much. There’s room in your life for both of them.’
‘But there’s not room in their lives for each other, is there?’ he cried. ‘They’re enemies. They hate each other. And whichever one I choose, the other one will hate me too.’
‘Linus, no,’ she whispered desperately. ‘They could never hate you.’
But he squeezed his eyes shut, shutting her out. ‘I just want to go home.’ His voice was small, the wish even smaller.
Bell flinched, unable to reply. What if he already was?
They lapsed into silence, the band playing ‘The Bear Necessities’ down the lawn, snippets of conversation drifting to the window like fragments of burnt paper in a bonfire, the flames pushing them ever upwards.
‘Now let me guess. You must be . . . Tilde,’ she could hear Emil saying. ‘And you’re Elise.’
‘No!’ The girls squealed excitedly, and Bell could hear their feet jumping up and down on the spot on the terrace.
‘Gah,’ he grimaced, seemingly smacking his thigh with his hand, panto-style.
‘It’s your birthday today,’ Elise informed him, lest he should have forgotten.
‘Well yes, it is.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Actually, I’ve got a choice, perhaps you can help me decide. Should I be twenty-five or thirty-one?’
‘Five!’ Elise shouted.
‘All right then! That’s what I’ll be. And how old are you?’ he asked.
‘We’re three! I’m older by nine minutes!’ Elise shouted. They were shouting a lot today, their nerves on edge.
‘Ah!’ he said interestedly. ‘And when will you be four?’
‘October the eleventeenth.’
He laughed, light-hearted and relaxed. ‘Lucky you. That’s the best date in October.’
‘Off you go now, girls, have a go on the helter-skelter,’ Hanna said. A moment later, as the girls could be heard tearing over the lawn, she added, ‘Emil, do you want to lie down? You look pained.’
‘You are as white as a sheet,’ Max said, chipping in.
‘I’m fine,’ he replied in a flinty tone. ‘What I want to do is talk.’
There was a deafening silence, and Bell realized, from her spot scrunched up on the floor, that she was holding her breath too. This was it. He was doing it. He was going to tell Max everything and blow apart their little family unit, even as the girls played just metres away.
She wished she could get on her knees and peer over the windowsill to see Hanna’s face right now. Was she reaching for his hand under the table, beseeching him not to do it, to give her more time? Because she wasn’t ready yet, Bell knew that. She was confused, certainly, balancing on a tightrope in storm-force winds, but to choose between them . . . Emil might have the certainty of his convictions, but Hanna didn’t. Not yet.
There was the sound of a gasp again, a chair being scraped back.
‘Right, that’s it.’ Nina’s voice intruded. ‘You’re coming with me. The talking can wait. We’ve got all day for that. You need to lie down, even if only for ten minutes.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘No. You’re not.’
There were more sounds of scraping, a low groan followed by irritable tuts. Footsteps, retreating.
A silence.
Then Max’s voice, calm, measured, tight. ‘So, are you going to let him tell me what the hell’s going on, Hanna? Or do you want to get in there first?’
Ingarso, Stockholm archipelago, 24 June 2012
The pen rested in the cradle of his finger and thumb, the teal ink showing through on the front side of the receipt. It was tiny. Innocuous. Unremarkable. But he already knew that scrap of paper and those four words were going to change all their lives.
The hidden beach, midnight.
Chapter Twenty-Sev
en
Bell stopped on the landing as the two dark-haired heads appeared above the top stair.
‘Come on. You were getting worked up, I could see it,’ Nina panted, Emil’s arm around her shoulder as they climbed slowly together. ‘You had that crazed glint in your eyes you always got when you were about to swear at me as kids.’
‘I was not about to swear at you,’ he muttered.
‘No, but you were about to do something else just as mad. Now take a ten-minute time-out and cool yourself down.’
‘I’m not a child!’
They stepped onto the landing and Nina glanced up, as though sensing her presence. Bell suspected she had the finely tuned instincts of an attack dog. ‘Oh. You’re there, Bell.’
‘Yes, I was just in with Linus,’ Bell said, seeing how Emil looked wracked with pain. She frowned. ‘Is he okay?’
‘Not really. The headaches are making him crazy.’
‘I’m not crazy.’
‘You were about to be,’ Nina sniffed. She looked back at Bell. ‘Could you help me get him into his room? He’s being obstinately heavy.’
‘I’m not. I just can’t see that well right now. Everything’s fuzzy round the edges.’ He was mumbling.
‘Just take his other arm, would you?’ Nina instructed.
Bell did as she was told, draping his arm over her shoulder, the scent of him wrapping around her like a fur boa. She closed her eyes, trying to pretend he wasn’t him.
‘For chrissakes, I’m not an invalid. I don’t need you both to help me walk,’ he resisted, trying to remove his arm from her.
‘No, you’re quite right,’ Nina said glancing across at the two of them. ‘You can manage with just one of us. Fine, trot along then,’ she said, ducking out of the way herself. ‘I’ll get back to our treasured guests.’
They both watched her go, feeling they’d been somehow played, but not quite sure how. Or why.
‘Well . . .’ Bell said after a heavy pause. ‘Let’s get you resting, then.’
‘I don’t need—’
‘Oh just stop,’ she snapped, losing patience with his continual protestations. ‘You’re clearly not well. Just accept the help, okay?’ And when she saw his astounded expression. ‘What? You’re not my boss.’
