The darkness claimed him and his body jolted into sleep like he’d been pushed from a cliff. There was never complete refuge to be found for him here; a part of his brain – perhaps the only part that had remained alert enough to classify him as alive for all those years – always refused to surrender, a lone night-light burning in an empty house.
But the tension in his body softened, his fisted hands curling open like autumn leaves, the headaches that strapped around his brain unbuckling for the night. It would not be for long, this fitful oblivion – the irony of emerging from a coma an insomniac never failed to amuse him – but it would be enough to quieten the hounds that snapped at his heels, their relentless shadows crossing over him like blades in the sunlight. The accident might have passed, the trauma healed, but danger persisted, he knew. For a man who could neither taste nor smell well, he had an acute sense that it was still here, close at hand.
He moved through the blackness, wading through its different textures and shades, always searching for the speck of light that would grow if he turned towards it. And she would be there, as she always was, held within the brightness, her pale hair and lambent skin like beacons showing him the way. She had saved him, brought him back to life . . .
And now she was here. Far away, pressed against his body, he felt the silken slip of her against his flesh, the tickle of her breath, the warmth of her limbs tangled with his, and he fell deeper into the velvet where nothing existed. No light, no taste, no touch, no smell. Just a sound.
A . . .
Bell.
‘Knock, knock.’
She peered through the open door as Max looked up. He was sitting at the table, a coffee mug still steaming in front of him, reading yesterday’s paper. ‘Hey, Bell!’
He seemed pleased – and surprised – to see her, standing up as she came in and giving her a kiss on each cheek. ‘Long time no see.’
‘I know! Wow, you’ve really been looking after the place,’ she marvelled, looking around the spotless cabin like she’d been gone for ten years rather than two weeks.
He gave her a bemused look and she remembered what Hanna had said about her mother coming out this weekend. ‘All by my own hand, naturally. Coffee?’
‘Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll get it,’ she said, walking over to the espresso machine.
‘Have you lost weight?’ he asked her, sitting back down again.
‘Funny, I was going to ask you the same,’ she smiled, glancing over her shoulder.
‘Maybe.’ He gave a hapless shrug. ‘Probably.’
‘You look tired. Did you meet that client deadline?’ she asked, popping in a capsule and speaking over the gurgling machine.
‘Only at the expense of my sanity and two members of staff,’ he sighed, sitting back in the chair, looking exhausted. His skin was sallow beneath the tan, and he hadn’t shaved in days. Bell thought his dark hair looked noticeably more salted, too. ‘They kept making changes after everything was signed off.’
‘Well, it must be great to have it done, at least.’
‘Honestly, it’s been so much hassle, I’m not even sure we want the client now.’
‘Oh dear.’ She brought her coffee back to the table and sat opposite him, interlacing her fingers around the hot mug and letting the steam rise in her face for a moment. Anything to purify . . . It had taken a full day in bed – her own bed – to recover yesterday. ‘And the girls? Where are they? I’ve missed them.’
‘Still sleeping.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah, Ebba thinks they’re having a growth spurt.’
‘Is she still here?’ She hoped not. Hanna’s mother was an exacting woman to be around. Nothing was ever quite right.
‘No, she went back last night. Bridge tournament this week.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Thank God,’ he mouthed, lest she should in fact be hiding behind the sofa, listening.
She grinned into the mug, feeling something unspoken creep into the room and sit down beside them. A baby elephant.
‘So . . .’ Max tapped his fingers lightly on the table. ‘How are things over at Ingarso?’
‘Where?’ Her brow puckered quizzically.
‘Also known as 007.’ His tone aimed for levity, but his eyes could play no such game.
‘Ah, of course.’ Bell smiled vaguely at the family’s dramatic nickname for