They came to the dock with an enormous sense of relief.
They were coming home.
The island welcomed them, enfolded them, and even at this late hour seemed full of the sound of birds and gentle lapping of water on the shingle beach. However, as they made their way through the woods, Ben suddenly stopped and put his hand out, holding Aleksey back. ‘What’s that? A light.’
Aleksey ruffled his hair. ‘Well, good.’
Ben turned, his eyes wide. ‘You had the power turned on?’
Aleksey nodded. ‘I did. So much work, so much…’ He was left lying to himself as the other three, dogs at their side, sped up. He shrugged, rummaged in his duffle for a dry pack, and took the opportunity to smoke a final cigarette.
When he got to the door, the warm amber light appeared to be emanating from the polished honey-coloured wood floor. It was merely reflection, but the effect was extremely pleasing nevertheless. It only got better when he went through the double doors and down into the living space.
It had been entirely transformed.
In front of the fireplace was a huge Persian rug of intricate reds and turquoise threads in a geometric pattern, the intricacy of which was only enhanced by pure gold thread used to accent angles and lines here and there. In a curve around the enormous rug were two four-seater sofas and two matching armchairs, these in butter-soft, aged caramel-coloured leather with seat and throw cushions of tartan and deep, luxurious fur.
Shadowfax was between the window seats, and all these wooden benches were now full of matching throw cushions. In front of the bookcase were two more armchairs with footstools, clearly placed for anyone who wanted to browse and read. Behind each of these chairs was a standing lamp. Their bulbs had amber hues, so with its thickly plastered wall, curved ceiling angles and dark mullioned windows, the room more resembled a warm underground cave than the large living space it had before.
It was perfect, and he listened with great pleasure as the other three went around admiring everything. Aleksey was extremely pleased with his new caretaker, although could only really credit him for being here and organising the placing of each object. Being extremely wealthy (or as Ben had only recently pointed out, being even wealthier now than he had been before a certain invasion), Aleksey had discovered how other extremely rich owners of islands had their furniture delivered. Anonymity was all very well, but stretching out on his new leather sofa next to Ben Rider-Mikkelsen was much, much better.
Ben was in the process of testing all the chairs for some reason, so he didn’t get the pleasure of his company for long. From the one by the bookcase, Ben announced, ‘I am absolutely starving.’
Aleksey smirked. ‘You know where the kitchen is.’
He waited until he heard a cry of, ‘Fucking hell!’ then went to join him.
There was a huge new electric range in rich shiny red, the fridge was working and a rack had been fixed to the ceiling full of new copper pans, which Aleksey sincerely hoped would stay there as a nice effect and never actually be used. ‘Try the water.’
Ben did. He held his hand under it for a while then exclaimed, ‘Wow. Hot. We can wash.’
Squeezy and Tim had apparently discovered their room now contained a bed, for they had mysteriously disappeared, and the sound of bickering was drifting down from upstairs.
Ben put a couple of plates of food together while Aleksey perched on the counter and watched him. Ben seemed to have entirely regained his equanimity. Or was hiding his previous dismay well. ‘How did you do all this?’
‘Ack, I cannot tell you all my secrets. You are only a baby and would—’
‘You paid a fuckingly expensive moving company to bring it all here, you mean.’
‘Do not swear at me.’
Ben grinned, nodded to a bottle of wine and some glasses and took the plates of food towards the hallway. For one micro-second he paused on the threshold, then strode out and disappeared from sight. Fortunately, he was sprawled on the sofa chewing when Aleksey came in with the wine.
They were on their second bottle, the flames in the fireplace blazing, and just one standing lamp on when Ben swivelled around and put his head on Aleksey’s lap then readjusted his position a few times irritably. ‘I was hoping this would be softer.’
Aleksey snorted. ‘That’s definitely not helping then.’ He began to stroke through the salt-tangled dark hair. ‘Tell me your experience this afternoon.’
Ben blew out his cheeks. ‘Do you remember the walk we took in Svalbard? When we got turned around on the ice?’
‘Vividly.’
‘Well it was like that. I was in that living room place with the chairs around the old TV and—’
‘I don’t recall a TV, but go on.’
‘You wandered off to look into that little room to the right and—’
‘Left. I went into the kitchen on the left.’
