“The island is as good as I remember.”
“Good. Your brother left this morning. He told me to say he’d call you at some point, but to enjoy the rest of your holiday.”
This was news.
“Lennox has gone home?”
Franklyn shakes his head. “London.”
“Why?”
This was never on Lennox’s agenda.
“One of Goldsmith’s cabinet have put forward a suggested motion around a wall between the two countries. Goldsmith’s returned from wherever he was summering and your brother has gone to represent your father.”
Dad was in Australia. Probably in the middle of nowhere and away from the madness. This was a golden opportunity for Lennox to make his mark.
“Has Elise gone with him?”
“No. She doesn’t know yet that he’s gone.”
I narrow my eyes, wanting the full story.
“Elise is staying in the visitors’ lodge. I don’t believe she’s awake yet.” Franklyn’s eyes give nothing away.
I don’t push. There’s no point. In an hour or so, Elise will find out from one of us that her beloved has taken flight without her. I should feel sorry for her, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
Franklyn leaves me to get ready for breakfast, a platter of fresh fruit and a pot of coffee left out on the table when I emerge from the same shower where Ben took me from behind just a few hours ago.
I’m sore and my body has marks that weren’t there yesterday, but none of that matters. This morning carries the ghost of the night before, its echo the memories that are already slipping into the past. They have to.
I see him from the balcony. He’s sitting outside by the pool, his laptop in front of him, wearing a white shirt and thin khaki pants. His glasses hide his eyes and he looks orange in the sunshine.
He doesn’t look up.
Even if he senses I’m there, he keeps his eyes focused on his screen and then his phone.
And then Elise.
She stands by the pool, a black kaftan barely covering long tanned legs, her dark hair curled and dripping down her back. She says something to Ben and he looks up, his focus on her.
Then she moves over, taking a seat next to him, trying to look at his screen.
He closes the laptop. Focuses on her.
I see her smile; I know she’s smiling. She flicks her curls over her shoulder and the kaftan slips down, exposing skin.
They start to talk. I watch, not imagining what they’re saying because I don’t need to. I know Elise’s game; I’ve studied it. Considered using it.
Two yachts pass out at sea. A group of seagulls cry. In another country, a war breaks out.
I pull a sundress on over my bikini and head through the master suite and downstairs to the pool, hearing the sounds of Elise talking but not Ben.
“I remember you were such a good friend to, Blair. She used to talk about you tons. I think she had a little crush on you.” There’s a giggle and a promise and probably a stroke of his forearm.
I’m right, she’s still next to him, her hand on him, a finger tracing the outline of a tattoo.
Ben doesn’t stir when he sees me. He doesn’t move away or shove her off. Instead he lifts his head to me and it doesn’t matter that Elise is still talking because there’s only me and him in the world.
