of us ever thanked you enough.’
Ken started to cough, and reached out for the small bottle of water on the desk in front of him. Grace watched as he tried to bring it to his lips, wincing for him as the water dribbled down his chin and he wiped it clumsily away.
‘I suppose the lack of thanks up to now is because I’m not an emotional person. You’ve known that from the start, of course, and I know it bothered you sometimes. I would’ve tried harder, but it’s not who I am. I could never be an emoter rather than a thinker. It might be popular, but I don’t like sentiment. Even now, knowing I don’t have much time left, I find it hard to be emotional about it. Well, I’m angry, of course. I can do anger. I know I’ve lost my temper over this a number of times and I apologise if it upset you. I know you would have liked me to be more demonstrative. To tell you that I loved you more often. To hold your hand in public. I couldn’t do that, Hippo. Even for you.
‘But . . .’ he took a deep breath, ‘but I do love you. I loved you from the moment I first saw you at the door to the plane. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, even though I was supposed to be working on the paper I’d brought with me. I made a mess of editing it and spent the next day going over it again. I knew I had to be with you, Hippo. It was fate. Maybe these days you’d call it arrogance or privilege to think like that. I can see how you would. But I only thought that way because you mattered so much. I knew, you see, that you were the right person for me. I knew you’d make my life better. I knew you’d be a great wife.’
Grace paused the recording and got up from the table, taking her glass of wine with her. She walked out into the long garden filled with flowers and took deep breaths before sipping the wine. After a couple of minutes, when she felt more composed, she went back inside and hit the play icon again.
‘I remember telling you that beautiful women had all the power.’ Ken’s voice continued seamlessly, although it was clear that it was becoming more of an effort for him to keep talking. ‘I meant it, Hippo. You never knew the power you had over me. Not only because you’re beautiful, but because you’re such a strong person inside too. You never wielded that power, of course, even though you could have. I don’t know why. You would have cowed me. But you never tried.
‘And sometimes it made me wonder if you loved me as much as I loved you. I wondered if you simply couldn’t be bothered to tell me not to do things because it didn’t matter to you. I never asked that question because I was afraid of the answer. Afraid that maybe I didn’t matter as much as I wanted to. Yet not asking was a form of arrogance too. I wasn’t the best husband I could have been. And I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry I’ve only realised it now.
‘If you’re watching this, you’ve completed the task I set you. You did something for me when you didn’t have to, because I’m not there to know. But that’s the sort of woman you are. You’re loyal and dependable and you were my rock. Have you scattered my ashes? I keep imagining you flinging them off the balcony on the ferry. I bet you weren’t convinced about it. I bet you were worried about someone spotting you. About littering the sea. But I’m pretty sure you did it for me anyway. As for the remainder – I hope you held some back like I wanted – I’d quite like some left in Cartagena; you know how much I enjoyed going to the Roman theatre there. I don’t suppose they’d let you scatter them in a historical monument, but maybe you could leave a small amount somewhere. I don’t mind what you do with the rest. Your choice, Hippo. Whatever you want.’
He took another awkward sip from his water bottle. Grace took a much larger gulp of her wine.
‘OK, now let’s talk about the treasure hunt,’ said Ken. ‘I thought of it when you first suggested we take the