He swirled his finger around the screen. ‘Nothing.’
‘Uh huh.’ Ben appeared to be studying his face for a moment before he too touched lightly onto the screen. ‘This is all ancient history. Before even you were born.’
Aleksey snorted quietly at the jab. But Ben was right. It was all deep in the past, and although it concerned Light Island, it didn’t concern him.Them. That was the more important point—Ben did not need to be dragged into this. For many reasons. But mainly because he, Aleksey, had found it hard to forget the memory of a skull pounded to fragments, a brain reduced to pulp. He didn’t want to live with savagery any more, or to be the one who inspired it in this beautiful man he loved more than it was probably wise to love anyone. He wanted to spoil Ben in different ways now.
He nodded then clicked his phone off.
An easy gesture, but it did nothing to relieve the feeling that he was a player in a drama which had been scripted many years before. He did not even know his lines, and yet he was compelled to go out upon the stage.
Perhaps Harry had used the better analogy—whirlpool. Its suck upon him was evident now, and he did not know if he had the strength to swim against it as the old man had claimed. Harry had also said the less you have the more you are given, andhehad thought,not in my experience. But he had not pointed out the obvious to the old man: when you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. Now, there was a great deal that he valued, and its perfection, its glory, its all-consuming wonder weighed him down, slowed him up, made him cautious. It made him afraid.
He heard the sound of tyres on gravel, something that seemed to mark so many important stages in his life, and realised that he actually had no choice in whether he acted or not. There were no coincidences in life and he had possibly never made his own destiny. Everything was connected. Everything was linked.
He and Nikolas had made paper chains one Christmas. They’d licked the glue and carefully folded each muted-coloured strip into a circle until they’d had a huge pile, but then Nina had come in and seen that they’d not actually linked them before they’d stuck them all. They’d wasted the whole packet. It must have been one of her good days, though, because she produced another and told them how clever they were that now all they had to do was make the links.
It would be Christmas soon. He’d find some and let Molly make them and they would not have exquisite crystal and glass on the tree but her handmade paper decorations.
Sometimes fighting back against life’s currents was subtle and quiet, but no less effective for that.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Six
10 December
I’m sure now. I’m late and I’m never late. Lily will know soon. I’ll pretend to have the cramps each month and ask Mrs D if I can lie down. Last time Lily asked that Mrs D told her to go for a brisk walk around the whole island and she did and she came back feeling much better. Nothing is going to make this better.
He held the phone above his head in the bed, Ben dead to the world alongside him. The car had been a hit. The moron wanted one. He could go on wanting. As he’d pointed out, the theory was the same as with the plane-buying: Ben he loved, the cretin he barely tolerated.
However, they’d all gone for a quick spin on Dartmoor once more, the headlights doing to the dark what only quarter of a million pound headlights could do. The lit-up instrument panel had been impressive, as had the additional legroom. He’d even been magnanimous enough to let the moron sit in the front with Ben—although privately he’d found it extremely satisfying when Ben wouldn’t let him drive.
Tim had discovered a built-in dog cage in the boot, a place neither he nor Ben had bothered exploring, and had then declared that it had a partition so that both dogs could use it safely.
Needless to say, Tim had immediately been volunteered by the three of them to be the one to attempt to stuff Radulf into the appropriate half next time they went anywhere.
But all through the evening, eating the vast meal the two had brought with them, drinking more wine, watching Ben clear away, he’d had Jenna and Guillemot on his mind. Fifteen and pregnant. It didn’t bear thinking about. How different life was for boys. That, at least, was one thing he hadn’t been worrying about aged fifteen, despite how he spent his Christmas holidays.
He did not really understand why this girl’s story affected him so. Perhaps it was her likeness to Emilia—the flame-red hair, the wry sense of humour, the dead parents—or possibly it was the essential difference: him. He had come into Emilia’s life. He had plucked her from one existence and given her another. As he had told Dr Mark, in his care she had flown down the wind. Jenna Tregenza was unanchored and buffeted by life’s storms. And in this, she reminded him of a little boy who had also once found life very amusing, but had entirely forgotten what laughter was by the time he’d reached his eleventh birthday.
He spread his fingers wide on Ben’s reassuring back, and when he didn’t stir began slow stroking up and down his spine.
15 December
William said I was looking peaky whatever that means. He gave me a Christmas present today and I cried again. He’ll think I’m barmy. I keep crying. It’s all wrapped up and it’s very heavy! I’ve been knitting him some socks. They’re not finished yet. I need cook to show me how to do the bit at the top that holds them up, but I’ve made them dark blue like his uniform so he can wear them when it’s cold in the lighthouse. I think it’s always cold for William in there.
He turned on his side, wrapping his arms around Ben, pressing his belly to Ben’s back, his arm held out straight so he could read. They’d put the car in the garage when they’d returned, but even so, Ben had gone back to it before bed, just to check.
He had given Ben all this.
Sure, Ben gave him more, he knew this, but he had taken Ben Rider who had owned nothing but a motorcycle, a leather jacket and some strut, but who had fantasised and poured over car magazines, and researched and wanted, and he’d given him this much pleasure. If he could, he’d reach out his hand and pull Jenna through time tohisLight Island and he’d show her that however cold you thought you were, even when your skin stuck to the handle of the axe they gave you to chop trees all day in the frozen Siberian wilderness, even then, you could get warm again. Thawing out was painful, but it was worth it. He buried his face into Ben’s hair for a moment and breathed deeply.
Christmas Day
Oh my God. I can’t believe it. I saw the queen! She’s so tiny, but you know who it is, even from the back. Lily and I were upstairs in our attic. We took it in turns to stand on a chair and peer out of the little roof window we have and she was walking around the tennis court arm in arm with a young man. We wanted to see what she was wearing, but he’d taken off his big duffle coat and put it over her shoulders. But we saw her shoes and I don’t think even cook would be seen dead in them. But the grass was wet so I suppose they were sensible really. The man was very tall, so maybe that’s why she looked so little snuggled in his coat. He sort of folded her up in it, protectively, like she was so precious. I thought it was really romantic but Lily said he was just stooping to listen to her from being so tall. Lily said he was her husband, and so he was duke of somewhere or prince someone or other. I said if he was her husband then he’d be the king, wouldn’t he? She got all snotty and said I didn’t know anything—she came from Truro, and that’s a proper city, so she knows things like that. We aren’t allowed to come downstairs at all. It’s Christmas Day and I stood on a chair in an attic. It’s funny really. Lily gave me a Beano Annual. I think I’ll give it to William. I feel too old for things like that now. We did all the work to get everything looking lovely. The house was decked out in greenery and we put a tree up, and cook’s been working so hard. But when the queen comes she brings all her own staff. Isn’t that silly! They all arrived the day before she and her husband did in another boat and set up in Kittiwake, so Walter and Sam had to move into the other attic here. They bring everything with them as if we don’t even exist! So I think I’ve finally worked it out. We’re not here as staff of the Royal Family, we’re here to serve Guillemot House! We look after Guillemot so the house can look after them. It makes me feel a bit queer, one inside the other, just thinking about it all. But it might be something else making me feel sick. I’ve stopped eating. I’m not any fatter, but I will be soon. I’m saving William’s present until Lily sneaks down the back stairs to wash for bed. I wonder if the queen is in bed yet. I washed those sheets.
When he woke, the other side of the bed was empty and his phone was sitting recharging in its cradle on the nightstand. He assumed Ben had gone for his usual run, so he dragged himself out of bed to make some tea.
Ben was sitting in the Bentley just outside the glass kitchen window. Aleksey went to stand beside it, arms folded, studying him. Ben was oblivious, head buried in a handbook, flicking the sun-visor and making the seats move back and forth. Aleksey never realised anyone actually read a car handbook and was quite impressed.
