I blink at him in surprise. His face is suddenly like stone. He’s staring at something beyond my shoulder, and I swivel to see what he’s looking at. It’s a normal luxury-hotel beach, with sun beds, and waves crashing onto the sand, and swimmers in the sea, and, beyond, a few sailing boats and, way beyond that, a big yacht moored in deep water. That’s what he’s staring at, I realize.
“That’s Zhernakov’s yacht,” he says steadily. “What’s it doing here?”
“Oh!” I gasp as I put the pieces together. “Of course. That’s where they are. I forgot.”
“You forgot?”
He sounds so censorious, I feel a tweak of resentment.
“Lottie told me earlier, but it slipped my mind. Ben’s selling the company. He’s meeting Yuri Zhernakov on his yacht.”
“He’s doing what?” Lorcan’s face drains of color. “He can’t be. We agreed he isn’t going to sell. Not yet. And not to Zhernakov.”
“Maybe he’s changed his mind.”
“He can’t change his mind!” Lorcan seems beside himself. “Why else am I here with a refinancing agreement in my briefcase? Why else have I chased him halfway across Europe? We have plans for the company in place. Exciting plans. We’ve spent weeks fine-tuning them. And now he takes a meeting with Zhernakov?” He suddenly focuses on me. “Are you sure?”
“Here.” I scroll through till I find the text and show it to Lorcan, whose face freezes as he reads it.
“He’s seeing Zhernakov, alone. With no advisers. He’s going to get absolutely shafted. The stupid fool.”
Something about his reaction piques me. He keeps telling me to calm down about Lottie, but now he goes berserk about a company which isn’t even his?
“Oh well,” I say with deliberate insouciance. “His company. His money. Whatever.”
“You don’t understand,” says Lorcan angrily. “This is a total fucking disaster.”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a tad?”
“No, I do not think I’m overreacting! This is important!”
“Now who’s lost perspective?” I retort.
“This is completely different—”
“It’s not! If you ask me, you’re far too wrapped up in this company and Ben feels bitter about it and it’s a toxic situation which can’t end well!”
There. I’ve said it.
“He doesn’t feel bitter!” Lorcan looks absolutely incredulous. “Ben needs me on board. Yes, we have our fallings-out—”
“You have no idea!” I’m so frustrated, I shake my phone at him. “Lorcan, you have no idea! I know more about your relationship with Ben than you do! Lottie told me!”
“Lottie told you what?” Lorcan’s voice is suddenly quiet and his face still. I stare back, nervous of what I’m about to say. But I have to. He has to know the truth.
“Ben resents you,” I say at last. “He thinks you’re a control freak. He thinks you’ve got a cushy number. He thinks you’re trying to muscle in and steal his company. You once confiscated his phone in public?”
“What?” Lorcan stares at me.
“Apparently.”
Lorcan’s brow is creased in thought for a moment—then it clears. “Oh God, that. It was after his father died. Ben came up to Staffordshire and one of the older workers was making a speech. Ben took a call in the middle.” Lorcan’s face twists. “It was atrociously rude. I had to grab the phone and smooth things over. Jesus. He should be grateful.”
“Well, he’s still angry about it.”
There’s silence. Lorcan is quivering with emotion, his eyes distant.
“Cushy number?” he bursts out at last, fixing me with accusing eyes. “Cushy number? Do you know how much I’ve done for him? For his father? For that company? I put my career on hold. I turned down offers from big City firms.”
“I’m sure you did—”
“I started Papermaker, I restructured the finances, I gave it everything—”
I can’t listen to this anymore.
“Why?” I interrupt bluntly. “Why did you?”
“What?” He gapes at me as though he doesn’t understand the question.
“Why did you?” I repeat. “Why did you go up to Staffordshire in the first place? Why did you get so close to Ben’s father? Why did you turn down City jobs to do this? Why have you got so emotionally involved with a company that isn’t yours?”
Lorcan looks as though he’s floundering. “I … I had to step in,” he begins. “I had to take control—”
“You didn’t.”
“I did! The whole thing was in a complete mess—”
“You didn’t!” I take a deep breath, marshaling my words. “You didn’t have to do any of it. You chose to. You were in a horrible place after a relationship broke down. You were sad. You were angry.” This is hard to say, but I’m going to. “You were just trying to do the same as Lottie. And the same as me. Fix your broken heart. And you chose to do it by trying to save Ben’s company for him. But it wasn’t the right way to go.” I meet his eyes and add gently, “It was your Unfortunate Choice.”
Lorcan is breathing hard. His hands are clenched into fists, as though he’s bracing himself against something. I can see pain rising in his face, and I’m sorry I caused it. But at the same time—I’m not.
“I’ll see you later,” he says abruptly, and strides away before I can reply. I have no idea if he’ll ever talk to me again. Still, I’m glad I said what I said.
I look affectionately down at Noah, who has been waiting patiently for us to finish talking.
“Now can I go swimming?” he says. “Now can I?”
I think of his swimming trunks, all the way back in his case in the lobby. I think of what a hassle it will be to go and get them. I think of how there’s only a few hours left of sunshine.
“Swimming in your underpants?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Again?”
“Underpants!” he cries joyously. “Underpants! Yay!”
“Fliss!” I look up to see Nico making his way across the beach, his white shirt as starched as ever and his shoes shiny against the sand. “Where is your sister? I need to talk through the arrangements for the gala ceremony. She and her husband are our Happy Couple of the Week.”
“Well, good luck with that. She’s there.” I gesture at the yacht.
“Can you contact her?” Nico looks harassed. “Can you phone her? We should have had a rehearsal for the ceremony; everything has been thrown off course—”
“Swimming?” begs Noah, who has already ripped all his clothes off and thrown them on the sand. “Swimming, Mummy?”
As I stare down at his eager little face, something seems to pierce my heart. And suddenly I know what’s important in life. It’s not gala ceremonies. It’s not wedding nights. It’s not saving my sister. And it’s certainly not Daniel. It’s right here in front of me.
My underwear is plain and black. It would just about pass as a bikini.
“Excuse me,” I say cheerfully to Nico, and start stripping down to my bra and knickers. “I can’t stop. I’m going swimming with my son.”
After half an hour of splashing with Noah in the turquoise Aegean waves, all’s right with the world. The late-afternoon sun is baking my shoulders, my mouth is salty from the surf, and my ribs hurt from laughing.
“I’m a shark!” Noah is advancing on me through the shallows. “Mummy, I’m a splashing shark!” He splashes me furiously and I give as good back, and then we both tumble down onto the soft sandy floor of the sea.
He’ll be OK, I find myself thinking, cradling his lithe little body. We’ll both be OK. Daniel can go and live in Los Angeles if he likes. Good place for him, in fact. They like plastic people out there.