“He may stick around waiting for whatever’s hanging to drop.”
“He may. He may be around long enough for someone like Elise to dive in there and he can make his own bed.”
“Maybe.”
She gets up, takes the glass. “I’m going to check on your father.”
My father. Her husband. The man we both love who is going to die.
“Mum.”
She stills.
“Are you okay?”
There’s nothing at first because she’s considering. “I have to be, Blair. Because life will still go on.”
As will my father’s legacy in my brother. Which is why I’ll attend Lennox’s banquet.
I’ll play the game.
* * *
That night, when Ben is in my bed and we’ve fucked a little more gently than normal, I curl up in his arms and tell him about my father.
“I’m sorry,” he says and strokes my back. “Your father’s a good man. I know you’re close.”
I feel the tears streak down my face and fall on his chest where I’m lying. “I can’t imagine him not being there. He’s stepping back from duties – I’ll be able to see him more, spend as much time with him as I can…” My body is wrecked by a sob.
Ben doesn’t say anything.
He lets me cry and holds me.
I don’t want my dad to die or suffer or be in pain. I don’t want him to go away and leave me.
I want this to be a dream that I can wake up from.
But it isn’t. None of us have that power.
* * *
Elise heads home a day later, but the guest suite doesn’t become empty. I see the island’s driver return with a dark haired man, one whose hair is curlier than I remembered but his stubble just as dark.
“Isaac!” My mother sounds pleased to see him, as if he’s a returning friend rather than the advisor to Goldsmith. My parents have known him for some time. His grandfather some connection to mine so I discovered, although he’s spent his youth and early adult life hidden in shadows.
I look up from my book, glancing at Ben who’s perusing a newspaper. He doesn’t seem surprised. Annoyance at the fact he hasn’t told me Isaac was joining us fills my lungs but I can’t vent.
Isaac’s dressed for the island in a plain collared T-shirt and linen trousers. His swarthy skin looks like it’ll turn the colour of leather after he’s been here for just two days.
“Maigread; Paden.” He greets my parents with their first names and I wonder when this happened and if Goldsmith is doing the same. “You both look well. Rested.”
“It’s the peace of this island.”
Ben turns a page of his newspaper. He hasn’t even looked up.
“Thank you for inviting me to share it. I need the break.”
It’s then I see the lines around his eyes and that beneath the swarthiness, there’s fatigue.
