She smiles again, but it isn’t a proper smile.
Majjie sits up too and hugs her knees to her chest. “Don’t tell me it’s happened?”
She doesn’t smile this time.
I look from our mother to Majken.
“It’s happened. I’ll need to leave.”
“Then we can all go. I’m not staying here if you can’t stay.” Majken stands up, her hands on her hips. “You’re the sort of person they should want in this country.”
Mum shakes her head. “I’ll go home first and then head to Scotland. You can meet me there. I just need to go back home to sort the paperwork and I can meet you there.” Her smile fails. “It’s going to be a change.”
“Will there be mountains in Scotland?”
She nods. “Yes. And we’ll be closer to your father.”
I gulp down my lemonade and stand up. I love the mountains. “Can’t I go back to Norway with you?”
Mum shakes her blonde hair. “No. It won’t be safe. You’ll go with your dad to my sister’s and stay there.” She shakes her heads and sighs. “I was going to talk to you about this when your dad was here. But it’s all going to be fine. I promise you.”
It was the only promise she couldn’t keep.
Majken looks like herself but older. Her hair’s ice blonde and her smile just as cold. I wonder if she’s still vegetarian but I doubt I’ll find out given that we haven’t eaten together for years.
“You look tired.”
I lean over and press a kiss to her cheek. Her hand with its long fingernails lightly touches my shoulder.
“Thanks for the compliment.” I would expect nothing less from my sister. I don’t explain that I’ve spent the last four days on very little sleep, either working security for Blair and the estate or trekking through the video footage of Lennox’s assassination. She’s going to ask about it. I have no doubt that’s why she wanted to meet.
She shrugs. “There are easier ways to make a living.”
“And less enjoyable ones.”
The coffee shop’s full, anonymous patrons sipping designer drinks. A black coffee is all I asked for; I let Majjie get her own.
She sips something foamy, probably skinny. Probably with negative calories.
“You’re too thin. It’s ageing you.”
Her eyes grow colder.
“And here was I, wanting to meet to check you were okay given what’s happened in your little world. Weather’s good, isn’t it?” She glances out of the window to where it’s drizzling and grey.
“I expect you’ve had a good weekend.”
Her smile is genuine. “A good few days. You know my stance, bráthair beag.” She uses Gaelic on purpose.Little brother. It’s never been any different.
I shake my head. “His death solves nothing.”
“That depends.” She stares at me now, her lips curving upwards in that smile that’s caught many men already. “On whether Princess Blair shares her brother’s political stance or how well she can keep her legs closed.”
If I was normal, if I was the type of man who thought of women as possessions, I’d have stiffened my spine and be on edge now. But I’m not that man. I know full well what Majken’s referring to and I know it’s rumour because I know Isobel Blair Stewart and Majken doesn’t, although she wants to.
“Time will tell on that.”
She tips her head to one side, shakes the ice blonde hair that’s two shades lighter than her natural colour. “But you can find out. I know you hear things in there, Ben. Remember what we’re aiming for here.”
