‘All good here. He’s just had some water.’ She walked across the room and returned the empty glass to the carafe on the table.
‘Great. It’s important to keep hydrated.’ Hanna pressed her hand to his forehead gently and Bell noticed – sure enough – she wasn’t wearing her aquamarine ring again, the shape of the band picked out by a bright tan line.
‘Hanna, I was thinking . . .’ Hanna sank onto the bed and turned to face her with a smile. ‘If you’re going to be staying here this weekend, should I . . . go back to Strommskar? Give you all some . . . family time alone?’
Emil’s hand reached for Hanna’s. ‘Family time. Just us. That sounds good.’
Hanna smiled back at him, considering for a moment. ‘Well, my mother’s at the cabin this weekend,’ she said obliquely, not saying, or having to say, that she was therefore babysitting the girls. Bell wondered where Max was, or if, in fact, he was there too, livid that his partner had been dragged over here for the weekend on account of another of her ex’s medical emergencies. ‘So listen, if you want to take the weekend off . . .?’
Bell brightened instantly. ‘Really?’
‘Of course! Don’t you agree, Emil? The poor girl needs a break. She’s worked straight through since Midsommar.’
Emil stared back at her with an inscrutable stare. ‘Absolutely. It’s been awful for her being stuck here with us.’
If Hanna picked up on the sardonic tone in his voice, she made no sign of it.
‘Can I take the boat?’
‘Of course. But listen, can we start from the morning? I could really do with the help tonight. Dr Sorensen says we have to wake him every two hours through the night and ask him some questions, and I’m not sure I can do that on my own.’
‘Måns can do it,’ Emil said, sounding terse.
‘We can’t ask him to do that!’ Hanna chided. ‘He’s in his mid-eighties.’
They really did sound like the proverbial married couple, Bell marvelled, seemingly slipping straight back into old patterns, bickering lightly. ‘What sort of questions?’
Hanna looked back at her. ‘Oh, nothing much. Chit-chat – what’s your name? Favourite song? What year is it?’ She shrugged. ‘I thought we could do every other shift, starting from, say, eleven? That way we’ll get four hours’ sleep each.’
Oh, great, Bell thought to herself as she gave an obliging smile. Her day off would only come after a night of utterly broken sleep. Excellent. ‘Sure.’
‘I’ll do eleven and three, if you can do one and five?’
‘One and five, got it.’ Bell walked towards the door. ‘Where’s Linus?’
‘He stayed down to have some supper. And then I’ve told him it’s off to bed early tonight. I think everyone’s had an exhausting day.’
‘Okay, I’ll go check on him.’
‘I’d get to bed early yourself, if I were you.’ Hanna turned back to Emil with a look. ‘It’s going to be a long night.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
What?
She blinked, her eyes fixed and unseeing upon the moonlight puddling on her floor as her hand flailed and scrabbled for the alarm. She had left the shutters open deliberately, hoping it would make this middle-of-the-night obligation easier to endure, but in spite of the full moon and open windows – the owl calling from a nearby tree – she had slept heavily the moment her head had hit the pillow. The day’s dramas had left her feeling drained, and the anticipation of some time off had set her tingling with relief. She needed to get away from here, off this island and away from this toxic situation. Him.
She had already messaged Tove and Kris, desperate for friendly company. It was exhausting being Enemy Number One. Both Tove and Marc were working shifts tonight, but they’d all be taking the early ferry in the morning, arriving at Sandhamn in time for lunch.
With a deep breath and a yawn, she pushed herself up to sitting and planted her feet on the floor, head hanging low, hair falling forwards. She could do this. She could. She didn’t even have to wake up fully herself. The man was clearly perfectly fine; he’d been more than lucid earlier, needling her into another argument. All she had to do was go down the hall, shake him awake, ask him a question, and then they could all go back to sleep again. She could be back in this bed within the minute, the sheets still warm . . .
Scarcely conscious of her surroundings, but subliminally knowing there