The Hidden Beach - Karen Swan Page 0,126

and she felt a stab of remorse that she had left him here alone. This was her fault. She had indulged her own feelings of humiliation, and put her own need to get away above his need to have her stay.

‘Linus, that wasn’t kind,’ she said firmly. ‘Apologize to your sister, please.’

‘No! She’s not my sister! I don’t have to be nice to her, and you can’t make me. You’re just the nanny.’ And he suddenly sprinted away, up the lawn and into the house, his arms pounding like pistons.

Bell felt like she’d been punched.

‘Oh my God,’ Hanna whispered, watching him go.

‘He’ll settle,’ Max said unconvincingly. ‘He’s just overwhelmed. His emotions are too big to process just now, but he’ll get there. Give him time.’

‘I don’t understand how you can be so calm about this,’ Hanna cried, scooping up Tilde, who had started to cry too. ‘He’s rejecting us. You!’

‘Yes. And we have to show him that no matter what he says or does, we love him and we’re not leaving him. He needs to see we won’t abandon him. Okay?’ He smoothed a hand through her hair, calming her.

Bell watched, knowing their easy intimacy was invisible to them both. Hanna had been captivated by Emil’s reckless, nothing-to-lose passion for her. Did this cosy familiarity feel boring by comparison? Was she going to give it up for the excitement – and glamour – of life as Emil Von Greyer’s wife again?

They walked on. Max, looking stiff and paler than ever, still had that air of resignation about him; but she saw now that it wasn’t a defeated position, but an accepting one. Perhaps the guilt of falling in love with his old friend’s wife was too much, whatever the mitigating circumstances? Maybe he saw himself as the villain in this tragedy?

‘Look, Pappa, it’s orange!’ Elise pointed excitedly at the house, forgetting her tears as they moved past the large helicopter and stopped in their tracks again.

‘So it is,’ Max murmured, taking in the sight. A carousel had been set up on the lawn, a bouncy castle and helter-skelter beside it; at the sight of the children, there were suddenly jugglers, fire-breathers, stilt-walkers and a marching band, all advancing across the lawn from the wooded fringes. Balloons had been tied to every single tree, so that it felt the entire island might be lifted out of the sea at any moment and drift heavenwards.

Both girls shrieked with utter delight, wriggling from the women’s arms and heading straight for the carousel. Bell saw the gardener standing to attention beside it, clearly commandeered as the operator for the day. This time Hanna said nothing, and Max bit his lip as he watched his daughters race headlong into his rival’s honeytrap.

Nina was standing on the terrace, watching and waiting, one arm strapped across her stomach, the other holding a cigarette. Plumes of smoke drifted into the sky as she blew out through the side of her mouth, eyes narrowed as they slowly approached, awed into silence.

‘Nina,’ Hanna said evenly, stopping directly in front of her on the steps. ‘How are you? It’s been ages.’

‘Hasn’t it?’ Nina drawled, allowing a kiss on each cheek before she turned her attention to Max. ‘Now you I really haven’t seen in a while.’

‘It’s good to see you, Nina.’

‘Is it, though?’ she laughed drily, though her eyes danced. She looked at Bell. ‘Hello again.’

‘Hello.’

‘You’re dressed this time!’

Bell’s mouth opened in astonishment, and she saw Hanna’s head whip round. ‘I . . . It wasn’t how that sounds,’ she said quickly. ‘I can explain.’

This time Nina did laugh properly. ‘Oh, please don’t! Life’s far more interesting if you never complain, never explain. Let them wonder.’

Bell looked at Hanna and Max with wide eyes, feeling curiously silenced. To deliver a comprehensive explanation somehow felt more damning.

‘Mmm,’ Nina smiled with relish, seeing how they had collectively paused, all of them on the back foot, as though held in abeyance. ‘This is going to be fun.’

‘Where is he, Nina?’ Hanna wasn’t smiling now.

‘Linus? He’s gone to his b—’

‘Emil.’

‘I’m here.’

They all looked over. He was leaning just inside the frame of the French doors. He looked pale but still punch-in-the-stomach handsome, his eyes burning as he took in the group gathered on his terrace. Beside her, Bell felt Max tense, the air around him somehow changing, becoming paler, thinner, less substantial.

Slowly, Emil walked over to them. Bell thought he looked like he was in pain; there was a hesitancy to his movements, a tightness

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