people even, and they had settled into an uneasy truce as co-workers on a project. He didn’t try to elbow her out of plans or winkle his son away without her permission; and she was stepping back to allow father and son to interact more naturally, without running interference or acting as a referee.
Emil was spoiling Linus, she could see, but her job was only to make sure the boy was happy and protected and felt safe – it wasn’t her job to teach Emil how to parent. He was entitled to be the father he wanted to be, and Linus certainly wasn’t complaining. They were becoming relaxed in each other’s company, and although Linus’s twilight visits to the jetty continued unbroken – Bell always setting her alarm and following at a safe distance now – he had been happy to do an early breakfast run over to Sandhamn for the papers with Emil yesterday, without her.
By all accounts, today was going to be a big day. Emil had promised Linus an ‘extra special surprise’, but Bell didn’t feel excited; she had woken with a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t explain. There was something in the air, something was off – a nervous energy, a delicate tension that felt at breaking point. Things were happening so quickly with all these perpetual adventures, Emil’s desperate need for every moment to be perfect . . . It made her feel as though something had to fall apart.
She and Linus took breakfast on their own, texting Hanna in between courses. Måns informed them in his mellifluous voice that Emil had already left to make the final preparations, and would they please meet him by the jetty? They tried to guess what extraordinary plans Emil might have for them today. Cave diving? Swimming with dolphins? Hover jetpacks?
‘I hope it’s kiteboarding,’ Linus said as they strode down the lawn together, ducking into the trees and meandering along the pebbly path, their hands trailing along the slender tree trunks. ‘Think about it – I’m an expert skateboarder, and it’s going to be windy today. It’s got to be kiteboarding.’
‘God, I hope not,’ she muttered. Though it would explain her jitters.
They reached the island’s edge and saw Emil sitting at the edge of the jetty, silhouetted like a Huckleberry Finn figure, his back propped against an upright as he waited for them. He was perfectly positioned to see Linus’s mouth drop fully open as they stepped from the trees and onto the pine-dropped beach. Bell stopped in her tracks too as she caught her first sight of the black-sailed trimaran, motionless on the mid-morning water.
She knew enough about boats to know it was state-of-the-art, world-class, America’s Cup-worthy: 220ft wing sail, shrink-wrapped Clysar skin, carbon-fibre hull . . . ‘Holy shit,’ she whispered, forgetting her prime rule of never swearing in front of the children.
‘Holy shit,’ Linus echoed, taking full advantage of the moment.
They walked slowly down the rattling gangplanks, unable to tear their eyes off the boat. It was transfixing: sleek, powerful, a billionaire’s plaything.
‘Is that really yours?’ Linus whispered as they reached Emil, both of them able to see from here the black-clad crew running through final checks on board, scrambling up and down the masts, racing over the webbing like it was a bouncy castle.
‘Well, look closer. Do you see what I called her?’ He pointed to the grand red lettering along the hull: Linea.
Linus gasped.
‘I had to use the feminized version of your name, obviously. I hope that’s okay? Boats don’t have boy names.’
Linus stared at Emil, then at the boat, then at Emil again – throwing his arms around Emil’s neck so suddenly that his father almost lost his balance and they both would have gone flying off the jetty.
Bell’s own hands flew to her mouth as she saw Linus bury his face into his father’s neck, tears flowing down his father’s face. It was their first touch beyond a handshake and she knew it was more than a hug – it was a wall coming down, a breakthrough, the first step in their new relationship.
‘I’m so pleased you like it,’ Emil said, his voice choked, his face partially obscured as ever by his cap.
‘I love it!’
‘I love you, Linus.’ A gasp of shock followed as the words escaped before he could stop them, blood rushing behind a dislodged clot. Was it too soon?
Bell saw Linus looked shocked too for a moment, his little body instinctively stiffening