For a moment, Ari thought he would comply. But when he glanced at the screen, his expression hardened.
‘Excuse me,’ he said curtly, and left the table as he answered. He was gone for some time and the conversation flowed on. Laure flirted outrageously with Jason and Ari spoke softly to Nico and Madame du Lac, listening to her local stories and general gossip. Gwen made small talk with Ari, but she was clearly distracted, looking for Rafael to return.
That was beyond awkward too. Gwen was carrying a torch for him.
‘Ah, the mask, that is incredible,’ Madame du Lac sighed, bringing Ari back to the current subject. ‘So beautiful. Such a find.’
Ari smiled at her enthusiasm but felt the need to tamp down the rising excitement. ‘But we don’t really know anything about it. It might not come to anything.’
‘Should you really have removed it?’ Gwen asked. ‘What about the archaeological context?’ The specificity of the question surprised Ari. There was a chill behind the words, and Ari knew she was right. Even running her little museum, as she called it, gave her the air of a curator.
‘It was in danger of being destroyed,’ she replied, amazed at how calm her voice sounded. One thing about public-school politics, it made you think on your feet.
‘Was it?’ Gwen asked as if she knew differently.
Well, who was she to know anyway? She hadn’t been there. Ari’s gaze met Nico’s, who rolled his eyes to the ceiling. But he stepped into the breach anyway.
‘There was a conger eel, an enormous one,’ he supplied. ‘It attacked one of our divers. Took a huge chunk out of his arm. He’ll be all right, but it was hiding in the rocks where we found the mask. I think we were lucky to find it when we did or it could have—’
‘Really?’ Laure asked, interrupting. ‘An eel? But they’re like…a fish?’
‘So is a shark,chérie,’ Gwen told her with a flash of teeth that made Laure squeal with laughter. ‘So tell me what else you found?’
Jason shrugged. ‘It’s more about what wewillfind. The coin, the mask, they’re all clues, stepping stones. I know there’s more down there. Simon always said there was a path leading to Ys and we just had to find it. He was absolutely right. Wasn’t he, Ari?’
Her throat closed like a vice. She couldn’t get the words out, or air in. Her stomach lurched. Simon. Simon had said many things. Simon was gone.
‘Are you quite well, my dear?’ asked Madame du Lac. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
They were all staring at her. Every last one of them. All those eyes, glittering in the light, expectant, intrigued. She felt so cold, as if all the blood had drained out of her body in that instant.
‘Excuse me.’ She pushed herself up from the table and tried to stop herself running from the room. Running away again. Just like she always did.
Outside in the dark hallway, she finally stopped, leaning back against the wall, forcing herself to breathe in and out. Tears stung her eyes, but she couldn’t burst into tears. She couldn’t let herself do that. Not here.
It was a panic attack, that was all. Just a panic attack. She’d dealt with them before. She would again. She had to focus, to lock her feelings and her grief inside and—
‘Dr Walker?’
The voice rippled against her senses and she opened her eyes to see Rafael standing in the door to the room opposite her, watching her with that endless dark gaze, a small concerned frown crinkling the skin between his eyebrows.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Light framed Rafael, the golden glow of old blubs reflecting on warm polished wood, as he watched her trying desperately to gather together the shattered pieces of her pride once again. He looked like an angel, standing there. A fallen angel perhaps.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I just…I just needed a moment. They were talking about Simon.’
He glanced towards the dining-room door, understanding crossing his features. Then he seemed to reach some sort of conclusion.
‘Come in here, sit down. I’ll get you a drink.’
She followed him into a study. Behind the desk was a magnificent stained-glass window, containing images of the sea and the cliffs, dark against the night, just outlines, like a colouring-book image waiting for a child to fill it in. Books lined the walls, old and well cared for, leather-bound with gleaming gilt inlays and titles on the spines. In total contrast, there was a laptop open on the desk, the glow of its light pale blue and cold. Some papers were stacked beside it, his phone on top of them. There was also a drinks cabinet from which he took glasses and a bottle of something a rich amber colour. He poured two generous helpings.
‘Here,’ he said, handing one to her.
‘The others will miss—’
‘They won’t. They’re probably on to another subject now anyway. Don’t mind them. You need a moment. What happened?’
