Contents ( 39)
- KAREN SWAN
- Contents
- Prologue
- Part One
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Part Two
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- The Hidden Beach
That might be true but it wasn’t his bloody parenting style that made it so impossible for her to return, she thought, looking down at her own hands, the fingers tightly interlaced, worried that she might betray herself in some way. They were, all three of them, balancing on the edge of a precipice.
‘– You’re right, of course, and it’s something I’ll have to address with him at some point. But tomorrow is going to be a huge test for our family. It’s going to be the first step forward with all six of us involved, and there’s no question it’ll be fraught. It’s taken eight months to get to this point, and we really need you there to keep a hand on the tiller – take the kids away if things start getting fractious, distract them with a game if he’s got one of his headaches.’
She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Hadn’t Emil had suggested to her he was playing up the headaches for Hanna’s sympathy vote?
‘It’s just tomorrow we need to get through. Please, Bell, help us over this next hurdle, and then I promise, I won’t ask for another thing. Ever.’
Bell sincerely doubted that.
‘The children are going to need a friendly face, someone they can escape to if everything goes sour.’
They’re not the only ones, she thought, looking at Max’s bitter expression and sorrowful eyes. Somehow, she sensed they both knew tomorrow was going to be the day he woke up and Hanna finally left him.
Ingarso, Stockholm archipelago, 15 June 2012
‘He’s so fast!’ he laughed, standing at the door and watching Linus proudly totter down the long corridor, scarcely bending at the knees, arms held out to bounce off the walls. The old oak floors gleamed in the early evening light, all valuables removed from the consoles, lest he should charge into them.
‘He’s the fastest in kindergarten,’ she said, and he heard the pride in her voice, saw how her eyes shone, her hands pressed to her mouth, a wince already hovering at the corners of her eyes as she braced and waited for the topple.
It didn’t come. One length safely navigated, Linus turned and headed back again.
‘I’m beginning to see your mother in him, I think,’ he said.
‘On account of the walk?’ Her eyes shone with amusement at her own joke. ‘What are you trying to say?’
He laughed. ‘Around the mouth!’
She watched him with a rapt expression. ‘Thank God you’re back. We’ve missed you.’ She kissed him, squeezing him in her embrace too. She was still slim, but her body was softer since having the baby. Everything about her was softer. Motherhood had, if not quite tamed her, certainly muted her somewhat.
‘I’ve missed you too. Fill me in on everything.’ He shrugged off his jacket, feeling his cares roll back. This was his first trip out here of the summer, having been caught in a roster of weeks of back-to-back travel, and already he could feel the archipelago’s calm push down on him like a weighted blanket.