I smiled down at the sand. I think we both knew the answer to that. Sad, but not devastating. Not by a long chalk. And I'd have walked, eventually, as Jilly had done, I knew that, too. Better now. Ted needed a very particular kind of woman: one burning with the same fire, perhaps.

Or perhaps no woman at all. No kids at all, to get in the way of his real passion. His driving force. The blood in his veins.

He cleared his throat. "And, incidentally, just as it's a ‘no’ to supper, it's a ‘no’ to what you've just asked me, too. I'm blowing the whistle. Loud and clear. In fact, you might be too late."

I gazed at him, uncomprehending. "What d'you mean?"

"No, not too late. I haven't done anything formal yet. But I saw Hugo, earlier. Down here on the beach, cooking sausages. Like he was the nicest man alive. Cooking supper in his apron for all the poor local kiddies. The ones who swim in his polluted waters.” He snarled. "I couldn't resist letting him know I knew."

"What did you say?" I breathed.

"Oh, not much. Just let him know his dirty little secret wasn't safe with me. That's all I said. ‘You're not safe, Hugo.”’

I stared at Ted. He looked impassively back. Then I looked down the beach, to where the Bellingdon clan were doing their usual annual thing. Running around with plates of food, putting burgers on racks, even Roger, barbecue tongs in hand, a green Bellingdon Water apron on. But I couldn't see Hugo. And then I realized, he was the only one I hadn't seen since I arrived on the beach.

Chapter 29

I stood up. Scanned the beach. "He's not there."

"He is. They're all there. Publicly exhibiting their magnanimous, charitable, philanthropic sides. But it's all show. Unlike the grandfather who donated the beach to the village, sadly all the real compassion has filtered away. Got contaminated. Like the murky water they produce. Goodbye, Flora. I hope we can still be friends. I've offended you, I know, but I can't help myself. And I think we both know about not being able to help ourselves."

I turned to him, but I wasn't really listening. "Yes, yes, I do," I muttered, half realizing he was talking about me not being able to help loving Hugo, and even submitting willingly to the hug he gave me. A fierce one from his vantage point, holding me tight, but my eyes were still roving the beach, over his shoulder. He gave me another squeeze, and, as I broke away his hand went to clasp mine, but I was off.