‘Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll get it,’ she said, walking over to the espresso machine.

‘Have you lost weight?’ he asked her, sitting back down again.

‘Funny, I was going to ask you the same,’ she smiled, glancing over her shoulder.

‘Maybe.’ He gave a hapless shrug. ‘Probably.’

‘You look tired. Did you meet that client deadline?’ she asked, popping in a capsule and speaking over the gurgling machine.

‘Only at the expense of my sanity and two members of staff,’ he sighed, sitting back in the chair, looking exhausted. His skin was sallow beneath the tan, and he hadn’t shaved in days. Bell thought his dark hair looked noticeably more salted, too. ‘They kept making changes after everything was signed off.’

‘Well, it must be great to have it done, at least.’

‘Honestly, it’s been so much hassle, I’m not even sure we want the client now.’

‘Oh dear.’ She brought her coffee back to the table and sat opposite him, interlacing her fingers around the hot mug and letting the steam rise in her face for a moment. Anything to purify . . . It had taken a full day in bed – her own bed – to recover yesterday. ‘And the girls? Where are they? I’ve missed them.’

‘Still sleeping.’

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, Ebba thinks they’re having a growth spurt.’

‘Is she still here?’ She hoped not. Hanna’s mother was an exacting woman to be around. Nothing was ever quite right.

‘No, she went back last night. Bridge tournament this week.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Thank God,’ he mouthed, lest she should in fact be hiding behind the sofa, listening.

She grinned into the mug, feeling something unspoken creep into the room and sit down beside them. A baby elephant.

‘So . . .’ Max tapped his fingers lightly on the table. ‘How are things over at Ingarso?’

‘Where?’ Her brow puckered quizzically.

‘Also known as 007.’ His tone aimed for levity, but his eyes could play no such game.

‘Ah, of course.’ Bell smiled vaguely at the family’s dramatic nickname for the island. She wondered if he knew the ‘villain’s lair’ was in fact a tired but genteel bright-orange manor house. ‘They are . . .’ she paused, wondering what on earth she could say. ‘They are okay.’

‘Okay?’ He looked underwhelmed.

‘Yeah. It was a pretty sketchy start. Linus was very quiet and reserved to begin with. Understandably.’

Max nodded, looking pained. It couldn’t be easy for him to hear about the boy he had raised and loved as his own son bonding with his biological father.

‘I think he was so wary, after the hospital visit.’

Max winced. ‘I told her it was a mistake. She never should have taken him.’

‘No, I agree,’ Bell murmured. ‘But I guess it’s just so hard to know what the right thing is in a situation like this. There’s not exactly a handbook, is there?’

‘Christ, if only.’ He dropped his head into one hand and raked it through his hair. ‘And now? Is he calling him Pappa?’