‘And now Orla’s death will join that folklore, and heaven only knows what will be added to her story as time goes by.’
‘I’m afraid it’s already being elaborated on, and with any number of macabre variations.’
‘Does Alastair know?’
‘I’m sure he’s intelligent enough to know that people are inventing their own truth of what happened.’
‘Valentina being here so soon hardly helps matters, does it?’
Callum shrugged. ‘He’s moved on and I guess having her here is his way of saying he doesn’t give a damn what anyone thinks.’
‘He certainly seems in a hurry to put the past behind him,’ she said, watching a pair of swans glide by, their beaks held high with haughty indifference.
‘I agree,’ said Callum. ‘Some might say he’s running away.’
‘Is that what you think he’s doing?’
‘Without a doubt. Wouldn’t you want to run away?’
Not answering his question, she said, ‘What are people saying about Orla’s death?’
‘Exactly what you’d expect. That her death was no accident.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
Their attention caught by the sight of a traditional sailing cruiser passing by, its sail lying limply in the soft breeze, there was a natural lull in the conversation.
It was broken by Valentina. ‘Alastair, you did not tell me it would be this charming.’
He smiled. ‘I wanted it to be a surprise for you.’
She sighed and leaned in to kiss him. Not just a token of a kiss, but a lingering one on the mouth in the manner of a bloody great sink plunger. Simon tried not to look, but it was like gawping at a road accident, impossible to tear one’s eyes away.
‘It is a lovely surprise, darling,’ she said, when she’d released Alastair and let him up for air, ‘a picnic on the bank of the river, what could be more delightful? Thank you for sharing this place with me, I’m having a wonderful time.’ She spoke with such breathy intimacy it was as if she had forgotten the rest of them were there.
Simon wished he could say the same, that he was having a wonderful time. Surely he couldn’t be the only one whose stomach was churning at the embarrassing spectacle of two grown adults behaving with all the saccharine-subtlety of a cheap greeting card? He had never gone in for overt displays of affection with Sorrel, and that wasn’t to say he didn’t feel emotion, he most certainly did, but he reserved it for the right time and place.
They had moored the boats and had spread out two large picnic rugs on the grass in the dappled shade of an alder tree over an hour ago, and in the time since, they had eaten and drunk well. Now with his back resting against the trunk of the tree, his legs sticking out in front of him, Simon wanted to feel the mellow happiness of the day, but it just wouldn’t come.
Every word and gesture from Valentina grated on him, and, if he didn’t know better, he’d say that she was playing on her foreignness just a bit too much, pretending not to understand things when he suspected she understood all too well every colloquialism, every nuance. Hadn’t Alastair said she spoke excellent English? Simon was convinced she was playing some kind of disingenuous game. He couldn’t say what exactly, but he felt as if they were being tricked, fooled into underestimating her. Was that what a clever strategist did when going into battle?
‘I know what we should do next,’ she suddenly said, looking around the group, ‘we should go for a swim. We should dip our skinnies!’
‘I think you might mean skinny-dipping,’ said Alastair with an indulgent smile.
‘Although dipping our skinnies does have a certain appeal,’ said Danny with a laugh.
‘But nobody does that round here in broad daylight,’ said Sorrel, with an undisguised moue of distaste.
‘Not unless they’re completely without inhibition,’ said Frankie.
A slumbering memory from years ago roused itself, catching Simon unawares; it was a memory of Orla skinny-dipping in the moonlight, her body moving through the water as sleekly as an otter.
‘Sorry, Valentina, but I think you’ll find we’re all a bit too inhibited to do something like that,’ said Jenna.
‘Yes,’ agreed Callum. ‘We’re much too British, I’m afraid.’
‘Then maybe you should lose your inhibitions by drinking some more wine,’ said Valentina with an extravagant laugh. ‘Then you will swim all the better.’
