Bell knew it too, watching with silent apprehension as she saw Linus’s excitement begin to grow each day for their next ‘adventure’. It had used to mean ‘snorkelling safaris’ in new coves, or gathering the mackerel nets at sunset, but now they were going on jetbikes, swimming with Seabobs, having McDonald’s flown over from the city as a treat. They had only been here a week, but so much had changed already.

Partly it was down to her and Emil keeping a wary distance from one another. Their showdown in the dining room and then the middle-of-the-night confrontation by the beach had burned them both. Midsommar’s night now belonged to another lifetime, other people even, and they had settled into an uneasy truce as co-workers on a project. He didn’t try to elbow her out of plans or winkle his son away without her permission; and she was stepping back to allow father and son to interact more naturally, without running interference or acting as a referee.

Emil was spoiling Linus, she could see, but her job was only to make sure the boy was happy and protected and felt safe – it wasn’t her job to teach Emil how to parent. He was entitled to be the father he wanted to be, and Linus certainly wasn’t complaining. They were becoming relaxed in each other’s company, and although Linus’s twilight visits to the jetty continued unbroken – Bell always setting her alarm and following at a safe distance now – he had been happy to do an early breakfast run over to Sandhamn for the papers with Emil yesterday, without her.

By all accounts, today was going to be a big day. Emil had promised Linus an ‘extra special surprise’, but Bell didn’t feel excited; she had woken with a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t explain. There was something in the air, something was off – a nervous energy, a delicate tension that felt at breaking point. Things were happening so quickly with all these perpetual adventures, Emil’s desperate need for every moment to be perfect . . . It made her feel as though something had to fall apart.

She and Linus took breakfast on their own, texting Hanna in between courses. Måns informed them in his mellifluous voice that Emil had already left to make the final preparations, and would they please meet him by the jetty? They tried to guess what extraordinary plans Emil might have for them today. Cave diving? Swimming with dolphins? Hover jetpacks?

‘I hope it’s kiteboarding,’ Linus said as they strode down the lawn together, ducking into the trees and meandering along the pebbly path, their hands trailing along the slender tree trunks. ‘Think about it – I’m an expert skateboarder, and it’s going to be windy today. It’s got to be kiteboarding.’

‘God, I hope not,’ she muttered. Though it would explain her jitters.

They reached the island’s edge and saw Emil sitting at the edge of the jetty, silhouetted like a Huckleberry Finn figure, his back propped against an upright as he waited for them. He was perfectly positioned to see Linus’s mouth drop fully open as they stepped from the trees and onto the pine-dropped beach. Bell stopped in her tracks too as she caught her first sight of the black-sailed trimaran, motionless on the mid-morning water.