muttering mutinously about this not being what Uncle Mark had signed her up for.
Isla tried to explain the situation to Konstantin after she’d gone, but he wasn’t really listening. Instead he looked at her slyly.
“What?” she said.
“There’s nobody here.”
“So?”
In response, he ran to the large brass baggage cart and jumped on it, then pushed himself off and glided across the wooden foyer floor.
“I’ve always wanted to do this!” he said, beaming. “Come on, jump on!”
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” said Isla.
“Of course you could! You’re far too well behaved! I bet you never got into trouble at school or anything.”
Isla blushed. He was absolutely correct.
Konstantin came to a stop, whizzing the baggage holder halfway round right in front of her, then jumped off.
“Come on! Your carriage, m’lady.”
“You are being ridiculous!”
“Quick! Quick! I can’t hold the horses.”
Giggling helplessly, Isla accepted his outstretched hand up onto the cart.
“Hold on tight!”
And he rushed her across the smooth floor at high speed, then twirled her around just as she was about to hit the wall, as she shrieked with laughter, her face pink, and he reflected briefly how pretty she looked when she smiled. Her curly hair flew out behind her in a sheet as he made giddy-up noises and started galloping for the door . . . which was where they came face-to-face with a very stony-looking Fintan, who had been shaken out of his dolor following his fight with Flora by the horrific amount of social media abuse that morning. It didn’t help either that he had barely slept, was now in an absolutely filthy mood about it, and woe betide anyone who got in his way.
Chapter 33
What the hell are you two doing?” he screamed, as Konstantin, surprised, pulled the baggage cart to a halt, causing Isla to stumble backward.
Instinctively, he caught her, and she found herself equally surprised to be in his arms. He held her tight, just for an instant, and she felt her face grow even hotter, if that were possible. He was tall and lean; not skinny, just slender. They are all like that, those Scandis, aren’t they? she found herself thinking, then blushed even harder as his long hand brushed her waist as they both squirmed to stand upright in front of Fintan’s undeniable fury.
“What the fuck is this supposed to be? A crèche? Toytown?!”
Both of them stared at the floor.
“You know we’re an international laughingstock?”
“Oh, it can’t be that bad, man,” said Konstantin.
Konstantin still didn’t have a phone. Even though he’d been there a month and had earned enough to get one sent from the mainland, now something strange had happened: he’d found himself not actively minding too much.
Funnily enough, even though he thought of himself as someone who could take or leave social media, he realized just how much he’d used it, been on it. And, conversely, how relaxing it was not to be on it. He was, he’d noticed, sleeping better since he’d come here. Something to do with hard work, he supposed, and getting up early, and no booze (unless Gaspard was feeling generous), and somehow being away from everything, including the fun, also kept him away from the other things too: the empty echoing corridors of the palace, the constant sense of someone missing, the wasted mornings and pointless days, the bored indulgences, the rooms where his mother had used to walk.
It was the first time, truly, that he had distance from everything and he had a little time and space to himself. Not to be online, not to be playing with his friends or tearing things up. Just a little time to contemplate the world and a little discipline. He had found an old book in the library about wintering in the South Pole and was engrossed in it, feeling, sometimes, that the person’s experience wasn’t massively different from his own. Peace, quiet, dark, and contemplation.
So he wasn’t really taking in what Fintan was saying.
Meanwhile Isla—how pretty she had looked, he thought again, when she laughed. How soft she had felt in his arms. Isla was looking absolutely terrified at the prospect of getting into trouble. It made her seem very young.
Fintan pulled out his iPad and set it up on reception, then showed them the news headlines.
Isla’s knees trembled. This was awful.
Konstantin threw back his head and burst out laughing. She looked at him.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “This will be great for business.”
“Being the worst hotel in Britain?”
“Having a very handsome dog!” He frowned suddenly.
“What?”
“How many shares?”
It was, he