though, the wind strengthened and Esther began to shiver. “You’re cold,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “It’s time to return in any case. Mrs. Biggs will wonder what has become of us if we’re not back for lunch.”
Esther got reluctantly to her feet and together they retraced their steps. Everything was different now, her world had tilted on its axis and her head was in such a spin that she could make no sense of it. The war and its aftereffects had turned so many moral compasses away from true north, why should she not follow the pull of her own? For, as she had discovered, it might all end tomorrow. “No one must know,” she blurted out as they approached the house.
Richard stopped and looked back at her. “We must be circumspect. Act as if nothing has changed.”
“Everything has changed. I cannot believe this.”
“Neither can I. But I cannot imagine it could have ever been another way. If it helps, look at it as a sincere friendship, a communion of souls that were destined for each other. Can there really be anything wrong in that?” There was such an earnest expression on his face that Esther felt her regard for him grow even larger, her heart a balloon pressing against her ribs.
“Do you really believe that?”
“I have to. There can be no other explanation for my impulses. I risk everything in inviting such a . . . such a close friendship, but to be without that . . . well, I should be bereft.”
Esther waited a minute before replying. “I fear I too would be lost.”
They were nearly back at the house. As they came around to the back door, Esther saw the twitch of a curtain at an upstairs window. The shadow of a cloud passed over the glass, revealing the face of a woman behind the curtain, a white cap. Jean. They would have to be careful.
* * *
A few days later, Esther stood at the sink, peeling the skin of the cooking apples into long thick strips. It was a Saturday afternoon and sometimes Mrs. Biggs made a pudding or a crumble for their supper. Esther had wanted to make herself useful and offered to prepare it. Earlier she had measured out flour and butter and the precious sugar, rubbing the ingredients to form a pleasing rubble. She didn’t hear the footsteps behind her and jumped as she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, the blade of the peeler jabbing into the fruit.
“Esther,” he whispered.
“Richard,” she scolded, concerned and thrilled all at once. “Anyone might see us.”
“Hush,” he soothed. “The men are all on the beach and Mrs. Biggs is out collecting eggs. We are safe. For a while in any case.”
She put down the apple midpeel and turned to face him. “Well, you had better hold me, for I can hardly stand up when you do that.”
He smiled and wiped away a smudge of flour from her cheek. “You grow more dear to me by the day.”
Esther had never been especially vain, but even she had noticed that since coming to the island she had lost her London pallor and the dullness in her eyes was a thing of the past. She saw herself now, reflected in his eyes, in his tender regard, as beautiful.
Neither of them heard the creak of a door handle.
Jean Bardcombe stood in the doorway. A gasp escaped her, jaw slackened.
Esther leaped away from Richard as if scalded.
“Ah, Jean, there you are,” Richard said, pretending that nothing was amiss. “Esther was just showing me how she gets this perfect peel.” He held up the curling strip that was on the chopping board. “Quite a skill, don’t you think?” His voice sounded entirely normal, as if this were a regular conversation.
Jean pursed her lips as if she’d tasted lemons and bristled past them. “Don’t let me interrupt, Doctor. I was on my way to my room in any case.”
“That’s torn it,” said Esther, looking in horror at Richard after Jean had left. “What are we going to do now?”
“Don’t worry too much about her,” he said.
Esther couldn’t believe how unconcerned he sounded.
“There was nothing to see,” he insisted.
“Will you say something to her?” Esther couldn’t shake a nagging doubt that no good would come of Jean knowing of their . . . their what? Was it a romance? A love affair? Could she really have fallen for a man she had never even kissed? It wasn’t as if