Furious that she had played so cruel a trick on him, he left her there to die at the bottom of Linston Broad.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was obvious to Simon, even to an emotional duffer like him – as Sorrel referred to his so-called inability to read a situation – that things were very different now at Linston End. The dynamics had changed. But then how could they have remained the same? It was just so disappointing to see everybody trying so hard to enjoy themselves.
Before –before Orla’s death– enjoying themselves had come perfectly naturally, things would just happen spontaneously, or appear to do so without any real effort on anyone’s part. Now it was as if they were consciously tiptoeing around Alastair, and themselves for that matter, trying to say the right thing as well as dicker about over what to do. In the twenty-four hours they’d been here – they’d arrived in various stages throughout yesterday, he and Sorrel first, then Danny and Frankie, with Jenna and Rachel the last to arrive from London – it seemed that none of them was now capable of making a decision.
Alastair in particular gave the impression of being on edge and at great pains to ensure everybody was having a good time. In turn the rest of them were acting most oddly, as if they had never stayed here before. And that was before Valentina had arrived. God help them when she did! Or maybe once she was here and they’d got that part of the proceedings over with they’d settle into some kind of normal behaviour, or something close to it. He doubted it, though, and as he manoeuvred the motor cruiser out of the dyke and joined the river, he feared the unease amongst them might well be the lull before the storm.
From his position at the helm ofSwallowtail, he turned to look over his shoulder at Alastair.I’ve lost him, he thought with miserable resignation, watching first his old friend tidy away the mooring ropes, and then Danny with his binoculars hanging from a strap around his neck.It’s just Danny and me now. And what if Danny suffered another heart attack? A fatal one?
Death was never far from his thoughts these days and was, he knew, affecting his mood; it made him impatient and determined not to lose a moment of whatever quantity of time remained to him. Everything counted now. It was why he had taken charge after breakfast, fed up of listening to the others trying to decide what to do with the day. He’d proposed that he and Danny and Alastair would takeSwallowtailand go to Horning to stock up on beer and wine and other essentials for the coming days. He’d seen it as probably the only chance the three of them would have to be alone together.
This was the first time they had takenSwallowtailout together since last year, and though nobody had said anything, it had to be on all their minds that Orla had taken this boat out the night of her tragic accident. Before that night, Simon knew that the beautiful old craft that had been repaired and renovated by Snazzell’s Boatyard, long before Callum had begun working there, had been Alastair’s pride and joy.
Now, and with a pang of bittersweet nostalgia, as both Alastair and Danny came alongside him, Simon said, ‘Remember how we swore we’d one day go on aThree Men in a Boatjaunt on boardSwallowtail?’ he said. ‘Why did that never happen?’
‘The same reason so many things don’t happen,’ replied Danny, ‘life gets in the way.’
‘Only because we allow it to,’ said Simon, steering the boat closer to the bank on the right-hand side of the river to avoid a monstrously large cruiser that was taking up more space than it needed. ‘What do you think, Alastair, should we make it happen? Relive our lost youth before it’s too late?’
‘You may have lost yours, but I feel like I’m getting younger by the day,’ said Alastair with a smile.
‘Smug bastard!’
Alastair laughed. ‘Guilty as charged, Simon, and I don’t give a damn how annoying I sound.’
‘Fair enough, but the concept surely has its appeal: a few days of just the three of us setting off together and leaving everything behind? What could be better than the threecompadrescasting their cares to the wind and taking to the river?’
‘A few days of being confined in a small space with you, Simon,’ said Danny with a laugh, ‘I think you’ve just shot yourself in the foot.’
‘I’d love to say yes,’ said Alastair evenly, looking ahead, his eyes and expression hidden behind his sunglasses, ‘but with everything that’s currently going on, I really can’t commit to anything.’
‘It would only be for two days,’ Simon pressed, ‘three at most. Come on, Al, surely Valentina hasn’t neutered you already, has she?’
‘Give it a rest, Simon,’ warned Danny.
But Simon wasn’t in the mood for giving it a rest. Not now. There were things that needed to be said. Alastair needed to know that he couldn’t throw their friendship aside just because he was acting like a love-sick teenager. ‘A couple of days, that’s all. Is that really too much to ask? We could do it next month in September, when the river’s quietened down.’
Alastair turned slowly to look at him. ‘Of course it’s not too much to ask, and we’ll do it one day, we will, just not while I’m trying to sell the house and decide where to live with Valentina. The time’s not right.’
‘Quick! Over there,’ said Danny suddenly, a hand pointing to the bank on their left as he raised his binoculars to his eyes, ‘a great crested grebe sitting on a nest.’
The conversation brought to an abrupt stop, both Simon and Alastair looked at what had been pointed out to them in the thick undergrowth, probably each knowing that, forever the truce maker, Danny had sought to reduce the tension that was building.
‘You’re always such a hothead,’ muttered Danny when they reached Horning and had the boat moored at the staithe that was teeming with tourists. Alastair was out of earshot, having been spotted amongst the crowd by somebody he knew and gone over to have a chat. ‘What the hell were you thinking putting Alastair on the spot like that?’
Simon scowled. ‘What else am I supposed to do? Stand back and let him make a fool of himself? Bloody hell, did you not want to shake some sense into him when he boasted about feeling younger by the day? What next, a ponytail and a Harley Davidson on the drive? Can’t you feel that everything is changing between the three of us? I don’t know about you, but being here feels more like we’re attending a wake than being on holiday.’
‘Perhaps that’s because you’re not helping matters. Just try and remember what it was like for us when we first met Sorrel and Frankie; we wanted nothing but to spend our every waking moment with them. That’s what Alastair’s going through, so for the love of God stop acting like a jealous adolescent. Be happy for him and let him enjoy the moment, because who knows how long it will last?’
But Simon couldn’t be happy for Alastair. He just couldn’t. He genuinely did feel as though he was now in mourning for his old friend.
It was not the ideal thought to have in his head when making Valentina’s acquaintance later that day.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
While Alastair, Simon and Danny were out, Sorrel had seized control, something she had never done before while here at Linston End. But then there was no Orla to take charge, no Orla to instruct them on what they were to do.
