‘More, Papa! More! More dizzy for me!’
He spun her one more time, and this time, as he did, he saw Tim standing at the edge of the glade, watching. The professor immediately came forward, the astonishment on his face quickly masked.
‘Sorry. I realised she’d nipped out. I’m supposed to be…’ He trailed off twisting his neck from side to side a little, then blew out his cheeks. With something like shock, Aleksey realised the other man was attempting to hold back tears. But at the exact same time as this astounding fact crossed his mind, he was already handing Molly to him instinctively—you came to find her? Here she is. He didn’t mean the gesture in response to the pain on the other man’s face. He never really intended to offer Ben’s daughter up to assuage Timothy Watson’s newfound desire for fatherhood, despite some pleasant late-night musings. Nevertheless, that’s how the gesture immediately landed. So strong was this impression, and so much did it resemble the few times when genuinely horrified at his brother’s tears he’d just handed over whatever it was that he’d stolen and which Nikolas had wanted back, that he snorted at just how ridiculous they must both appear. Oh, you want one? Here, have mine.
Tim, also, appeared to find this suddenly pretty amusing, and when his annoyed-with-himself head shake was greeted by Molly with, ‘Are you going to dance with Uncle Tim now, Papa?’ they both began to laugh in earnest, which was a first for them. Usually Aleksey was laughing at the smaller man, slightly maliciously, albeit silently. He let himself off the hook for this by assuming that Timothy Watson probably did a lot worse than justlaughinwardly at him.
In the end, he put Molly down, and she picked up the hem of her dress and began to dance on her own. They turned towards the house.
‘Ben said the food was almost ready. That’s why I came to—’
‘Good.’
Tim stopped, and out of natural politeness, Aleksey did as well, although he was mentally willing the other man to keep walking and not talk. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever told you this but—’
‘—no need to now then.’
‘But you don’t know what I was going to say.’ Aleksey snorted again, making the other man smile in response. ‘It was just that, you know—the becoming a father thing. I know what Michael thinks. He thinks I see Ben and the incredible way he’s changed because of Molly—the relationship he has with her. But it’s not Ben at all. It’s you.’ Perhaps sensing interruption, although possibly not suspecting that Aleksey was hoping that an immediate and life-threatening tsunami would end this conversation, he quickly overrode any interjection of his with, ‘Molly’s Ben’s daughter, so he didn’t really have a lot of choice in raising her when Katie died. But you? Not only are you not related to her, you are—were—well…you. But you’re not you anymore, are you?’ It crossed Aleksey’s mind that pointing this out really wasn’t helping his equilibrium that day. ‘You’re the man I just saw back there, dancing with his daughter—singing! You’re not the man who continually plots to kill everyone—which is who you were. Even me once. You see, Ben keeps telling me you’re perfect. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was entirely deluded. But now…? I think I actually agree with him.’
Ben thinks I’m perfect?
Perhaps it was just the flash of brightness which broke through the thin canopy of dead branches, perhaps it was something the other man had said, but unable to stop himself from laughing, he replied, ‘Careful, professor, or the moronic one will be jealous.’
Tim smirked. ‘I hope so. It might do him some good.’
* * *
Chapter Nineteen
Aleksey wasn’t entirely looking forward to his reception from his other half, suspecting that Ben’s assessment of him being perfect was not a fixed view, and that his position on this continuum of faultlessness varied from hour to hour. Possibly, after this morning’s behaviour, he was hanging off one end by his fingernails.
Ben did indeed look a little fraught. He was juggling cooking a Christmas Eve meal for over a dozen, whilst at the same time trying to be a good host to the new guests. As Aleksey entered the main door ahead of Tim, who was carrying Molly, Ben was even then coming out of the kitchen, tea towel flung over one shoulder, heading for the main room. They both paused for a moment, possibly assessing what could, should, would be said, but then Ben just passed him by without speaking and jogged down the broad, shallow steps of the main room. As Aleksey followed behind, he heard Ben asking anxiously, ‘Sorry, you do both eat meat, yes?’
Jennifer gave him a brittle smile with her assurance they did and then added, clearly not for the first time, ‘Dolet me come and help, Ben. I feel terrible just sitting here doing nothing.’
Aleksey could sense Ben’s tension at this suggestion—the very last thing he would want—as clearly as he could read Ben’s annoyance with him. It was unfortunately just the way they were together. He put a hand lightly on Ben’s arm, just a brief touch, and asked a little awkwardly,
‘I was wondering if I had time to take Jennifer and Reginald on a tour of the island. Before we eat.’ He knew Ben understood. He saw it in the relaxing of Ben’s shoulders that Ben got this was apology tohim. It was such a huge admission of guilt and request for forgiveness that he couldn’t recall ever making one so blatant—except possibly for joining his name to Ben’s. And Ben took this act of contrition in the spirit it was intended. Possibly it was just that Ben didn’t want silence and angry looks between them on Christmas Eve either. But Aleksey didn’t think so. Ben had known what was wrong, but had been powerless to make it better for him.
Papa.
Who?
Apparently him—the perfect man.
Grinning slightly to himself both at Jennifer’s astonished but very grateful acceptance of his offer and at the memory of Tim Watson’s words, he led the grandparents out for their tour of his domain.
* * *
A sense of incredible peace descended on the whole eclectic bunch as they sat at the dining-room table, which was odd given everyone was talking at once, vast quantities of food were being consumed, and many, many bottles of wine were disappearing from the sideboard to reappear empty on the table. As it was nearly three by the time everything was ready, and a softening of the winter light was already occurring even this far south, they’d left the lights off, lit lots of candles, and once more Emilia had put some carols on. Harry had walked over to join them for the feast, and he was sitting between Reginald and Jennifer, and the trio seemed very happy together.
Molly was sitting next to Ben so he could persuade her to eat things, although as she’d refused the cushions she needed to see the top of the table, and had made a bed for Jenna alongside her plate with them instead, it didn’t make selection easy. She was also wearing Tim’s glasses, so all Aleksey could see was a pair of owlish eyes just peeping over the tabletop at him in the candlelight. Tim, now unable to see what he was eating, was making the most of not having to drive and consoling himself with the wine. Squeezy was wearing formal dinner attire, for some reason known only to himself, and was sitting next to Enid, who was in a long, elegant gown, which Aleksey could only assume she had once worn to similar Christmas Eve dinners when shewas a girl with her parents. Only after his second bottle of wine did it occur to him that the moron had dressed forherand that he was treating her like his date, his companion for the evening. Miles and Emilia had bought a huge bag of poppers to the table, and every so often, when the chat, laughter and carols weren’t enough excitement, would let them off, cascades of coloured tissue strands then floating down to disappear in the gravy and land in wine glasses. And, obviously, catch alight on the naked flames, which apparently was the most fun of all.
At each small explosion, Jennifer screamed, but this was usually drowned out by Radulf’s bark of annoyance at having his titbit hovering and hoovering interrupted. Billy was the only one who wasn’t present. When Aleksey had asked Harry to invite him, Harry had advised against it. ‘Bit too much for the little lad. Too much excitement, I’m sorry to say.’ But, apparently, when Harry had explained the situation to Billy it had been Snodgrass who could not cope with all the noise and the people, and so Billy was generously doggy-sitting him for the evening.
But even with all this organisation and planning and these little family dramas, for Aleksey, itwasincredibly peaceful. Christmas Eve and a table full of noisy people with too much food and alcohol was not a situation with which he was entirely unfamiliar. And yet the contrast now from those Russian parties could not be starker. Life from both sides—from win and lose. This evening, he felt he had truly won.
When the meal was done, they all gathered on the patio. Nearly six, it was full dark. The stars were exceptionally bright above a trail of moonlight shimmering across the tranquil ocean from the north. Molly very carefully and reverently laid out a glass of sherry and a mince pie on the steps. The adults were all smiling indulgently at this little deceit, but when Ben, smiling, pointed to the streak of moonlight and the sunken tennis court and exclaimed cheerfully, ‘That looks like a beacon pointing to a runway,’ they all started to frown with doubt, even Miles, who wasn’t a child to be fooled easily with such things.
