‘Oh, that would be—yes, thanks. Won’t that be a bit inconvenient for him? It will be a long trip to bring me home after, and then for him to get back to La Luz…’
‘Light Island, and no one will miss him if he is lost at sea.’
She smirked. ‘I’ve got a few friends like that.’
He liked this woman for some odd reason, so offered, before he’d done his usual careful weighing of tone, ‘Bring a bag and stay the night then. We’ve got plenty of room.’
‘Papa sleeps in the garden with Daddy.’
He gave Eames some considerable brownie points for keeping a straight face, as she replied seriously to Molly’s assertion, ‘Well, in that case, you’ll be the lady of the house and will have to host me.’
‘I’ve made a very, very big house with a stable and kennels and a shop! But it doesn’t have a toilet, so that’s been a real issue for me.’
Now unable to control her expression, Morwenna was forced to duck down beneath her counter, where she pretended to rummage for a bag. Having handed Molly her parcel, she gave him a brief, enigmatic nod and busied herself with adding Molly’s currency to the shelf behind her.
Emerging into the weak sunlight, two things occurred to Aleksey at the same time, and he pondered these as he attempted to get Miles to walk more quickly, and Molly to walk at all, down towards the harbour. The first thing that had struck him, now having had a great deal more to do with Morwenna Eames than previously, was that her accent appeared to come and go as elusively as English sunshine. When he’d first encountered her, she’d affected the incomprehensible rolling of vowels with every word which made all listeners to the Cornish almost seasick within the first few sentences. Privately, Aleksey was convinced the locals did this to tourists deliberately, ‘‘Ow do, my lover, be ‘ee wanting somzing?’ being translated when talking to each other as, ‘Oh, hello, there, can I help you with anything?’ For someone who switched into Russian when it suited him not to be understood, he found this affectation of the woman quite amusing. The second thing he’d noticed wasn’t funny at all. Despite her claiming on the phone to him that the boy, Spanner, was back on St Mary’s and working in the shop with her, this evidently wasn’t true. Or if he was, he was not only invisible but didn’t take a break or make his presence known in any way. When he’d sat with her in the little tearoom, hers had been the only mug drying on the draining board. She’d had to reach up into a cupboard to find one for him. Her coat had been hanging on a hook alone. She’d had to close the shop to sit with him. No assistant. It was possible the boy had only been in the shop that one afternoon with her and not working officially, but somehow he doubted this. She was lying. And if she was lying about that, what else was she attempting to deceive him about? It was a huge mistake to assume that when someone told you the story of their life that they were being truthful. He obviously knew this from his own experience. Despite promises and what Ben might now assume, he’d never once told an entirely truthful story in his life to anyone. Had this woman’s husband and baby disappeared in other, entirely different circumstances…?
None of this thinking did any good in the present emergency, and he could not, being hampered as he was by children, move as fast as he normally would. Finally, despite her protests, he swept Molly into his arms, told Miles to catch them up and increased the pace. His worst fears were confirmed when he rounded the little customs house and saw Emilia and the young professor on the dock, kissing passionately. They didn’t even break apart when they must both have heard Molly’s excited squeals of, ‘Emmy, Emmy, come see my new sticker book!’
As he approached, his footsteps thundering on the old wooden boards, Emilia did glance up. She had the audacity to smile and greet them both. Aleksey came to a halt and rewound the last few moments: realising someone else was a practised and proficient liar; tuning out Molly’s babble; stepping around the old brick building—
He still feltentirelyjustified in believing they’d been kissing despite now realising they’d merely been studying something together on her phone. When she showed the screen to him, he saw it was a photo of a butterfly. Emilia must have sensed something off in his reception of this great wonder, because she explained, pointedly, ‘It’s a Monarch? Possibly from Mexico? I just saw it. Mark didn’t believe me.’
He held the other man’s gaze, but the young professor didn’t so much as blink, let alone take a dive off the dock or attempt to board the boat which was just then backing out of its berth and leaving for the open sea, both of which hewouldhave done had he been a mind reader. He just smiled and held out his hand. ‘Hello, again. Did you have a nice Christmas? Emilia was just telling me you have the whole family down here with you.’ Aleksey ignored the hand and put Molly down on her own feet. He could discern no guilt, no fear. ‘I’m just down with Morwenna for a few days…’ Mark was evidently struggling a bit now. ‘Well, I’d better be going.’ He turned back to Emilia. ‘Enjoy the rest of the hols. See you next term.’
‘If not before. Small island.’
He nodded agreeably to this truth and, possibly deciding another offer of a handshake would be as useless as the first, walked away, hands in the pockets of his jeans.
‘Mark was toldRogue Wavemight be here. She’s sailing across from Nova Scotia this week.’ She paused, waiting for a reply, but he was still watching the retreating blond-haired man. She took his arm, tucking her elbow still clad in his leather jacket inside his, despite his habitual pretence of disliking being touched thus in public. Taking Molly’s hand in her other, she began to walk them all back towards the town. Every so often, he sensed her glancing across at his profile to read his expression, which he was keeping closed off to her scrutiny. When it was safe to let go Molly’s hand, she did, and the little girl immediately went over to sit on a bench to open her parcel of books. The two of them came to a halt together alongside the seat, staring out over the gently lapping water. One strand of Emilia’s hair blew across his face almost tracing the path of his scar through his grey stubble. ‘Will you marry me?’
He nodded, absentmindedly, many miles away, not actively plotting but feeling the pull of his old life nevertheless. Harry had once told him that he was the only man strong enough to swim out of the whirlpool forming around him. The old man had got it entirely wrong. Hecreatedthe swirling suck, and he had honed his survival skills in that roiling environment many, many years ago. He blinked, something snagging his thoughts away from these dark depths. ‘What did you just say?’
She chuckled and nestled closer to get some benefit from him as a windbreak. ‘I asked you, will you marry me?’
‘What—?’
‘—I didn’t think so. But you could, you know. When you think about it. If you were any other billionaire, I’d be on your arm in a different way, wouldn’t I? Bought and paid for to boost your ego. But seeing as your presence in my life is entirely altruistic, you have to let me marry the only other man I like almost as much as you.’
‘What—?’
‘He doesn’t know yet, obviously—he’s entirely hopeless. But I have no intention of telling him until the time is right—when I’m ready. Which I’m not quite yet. I’ve got things to do first, I think. I feel their pull.’
‘What—?’
‘But you can relax now—lay your burdens down. I’ve taken over the watch from you. Trust me, I’m watching him carefully, and I’ll let you know if he misbehaves. One misstep with me until I’m all set and I’ll let you have at him.’
‘You can’t marry Papa. He said he’s going to marry me.’
Wishing he still had the benefit of being almost permanently stoned to explain such conversations, he swivelled his eyes to his smaller female companion. Molly nodded knowledgeably at Emilia. ‘I’m going to wear my red dress and Papa is going to marryme.’
Emilia smirked. ‘You’ll still be Molly-Rose Rider-Mikkelsen then, that’s convenient.’
‘What—?’
‘Oh, good, there’s everyone else. Ben looks a bit fraught. Come on Molly-Moo; let’s go rescue your daddy.’ She stretched up and kissed his cheek before sneaking in a mock belly punch, then took the smaller girl’s hand and swung it in exaggerated loops as they headed back to the shops.
He was sitting on the bench Molly had recently vacated when Ben flung down alongside him.
