Chapter 23
“Keep the change.” Elea pressed a twenty-pound note into the hand of the taxi driver before getting out of the car. It was a generous tip, given that she’d only gone a few miles, but he had a look of her father, and the memory of his presence had been enough to calm her down.
“Cheers,” he said, glancing up at police headquarters. “Stay out of trouble!”
Richard’s presence had changed everything. Elea couldn’t deny their chemistry. The knowing looks across the table. The familiarity that only their history could bring. There was love there. Always would be. Alice had felt it, too.
She fumbled with her pass, pressing it against the black electronic pad at the thick metal back door.
With a final turn, the door clicked open, and she pushed her weight against it to step inside.
Had she gone straight back to her hotel, she knew how it would end up: with a drink or three in her hand and a stranger in her bed.
She wasn’t getting on that merry-go-round tonight.
Work would soothe her frayed nerves and stop her endless analysis of Alice’s hurtful words.
It was a relief to see that the team had all gone home.
She stood among their desks, basking in the smell of stale air, uneaten food, and coffee that had turned cold.
She clicked on a small desk lamp. Yes, she was exactly where she needed to be.
Her footsteps moved quietly as she glanced at each work surface, cluttered with the remnants of a long day.
Kelly’s desk was neat and tidy, her pens laid parallel next to a thick A4 pad.
Her cup had been washed, her computer powered down.
Elea would have known Ness’s desk even if she hadn’t seen her sitting there.
It was just like her personality: disorganised, but comforting.
A half-empty plastic tray of cupcakes was perched on one side, an empty Gregg’s wrapper next to it, and a chipped but clean mug that read “World’s best nanna” on the other side.
The photos on Ness’s desk displayed her grandchildren, two boys with bright-pink faces as they posed proudly next to their sandcastles on a sun-washed beach.
Elea passed the other desks, each one reflecting the personality of the officer who used it.
She thought of her desk in Helsinki, which displayed a photo of Liisa—a constant reminder of her failures as a mum.
She arrived at the office that Swann had yet to hand over, its door slightly ajar.
His monitor hadn’t been turned off, and the Windows logo bounced softly around on the screen.
He was just the same in Finland. She recalled something that she’d told a victim of domestic abuse once: The people who promise change are the ones who repeat the same patterns over and over again.
Swann had sworn he was moving on, yet now that they were back in each other’s company, she was certain this wasn’t the case.
Were they destined to be in each other’s lives forever?
“Where else would you be?” Swann’s voice startled her. He stood, his tall frame filling the doorway, brown eyes locked onto hers.
Elea felt a familiar warmth spread through her and she quickly corrected her posture, relaxing the hand she’d clasped against her chest. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Come to finish me off?”
Swann’s smile faded and she immediately regretted the joke.
“Sorry again about Alice’s behaviour. We’ve had words.”
“Unnecessary apology,” Elea replied, a little amused at the thought of Alice getting a scolding from Swann.
“Alice is marking her territory. She wasn’t getting a reaction, so she pressed my buttons.
She’s lucky I didn’t take the bait.” She leaned against the desk, her eyes never leaving his.
“I saw your children, by the way. Alice insisted that I visit the nursery while they were sleeping. They’re beautiful. ”
A mixture of pride and vulnerability flickered across his face, but no words came.
Elea drew in a pensive breath. She was tired of playing games. Everything Alice had said tonight had come from a place of hurt.
“They’ve got their own language.” Swann smiled.
“I mean, I’ve heard about twins being close, but Jake and Josh .
. . they’re so in tune with each other. If Jake hurts himself, Josh will cry, too.
I’ve seen it happen when they’re in different rooms.” Elea was going to speak, but Swann continued talking.
“Jake is ahead in everything, walking, talking. He encourages Josh to follow him around.” He chuckled to himself. “I hope they’ll always be like that.”
Elea waited until he was finished. She could feel his pride. There was happiness in his voice when he spoke about them. It helped her to make up her mind. “Your boys deserve a father, which is why I’m going to do something I should have done a long time ago.”
Swann took a step towards her. Elea swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.
“I’ll give you your divorce.” A police siren rose in the distance. A reminder that life went on.
She expected relief, gratitude even, but instead an unreadable expression settled on Swann’s face. He hesitated for a moment, and her pulse quickened as he leaned towards her. She tried not to get lost in the familiar musky smell of his aftershave.
“Don’t sign those divorce papers yet.” He laid a warm hand on her arm.
“Swann,” Elea started, a warning in her voice.
“I’m not sure I want to marry Alice. And it’s not just about tonight.”
“She was drunk—” Elea began, trying to brush off his concerns.
“It’s deeper than that,” Swann interrupted her once more. “I’m having . . . doubts.” His eyes searched hers for understanding. An ounce of encouragement.
“Why are you doing this? You left me. Move on with your life.”
“You told me to!” Swann’s words stabbed the air.
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!”
Elea closed her eyes. Dammit. She hadn’t meant to say that.
Her words came from that space from which no good could come.
From the times when she’d cut a boat free from its mooring and sat like a ghost in her nightdress, floating in the midnight lake.
From when Swann had brought her home and whispered into her hair that he would make everything all right.
From the times when she’d hugged Liisa’s pillow to the hollow of her chest, bereft because she couldn’t smell her daughter anymore.
Each year she grieved for the loss of Liisa’s childhood. It had almost broken her.
“I . . .” Swann’s voice wavered. “I should never have left. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. You have your children. I couldn’t give you that.” Having another child would feel like a betrayal to her daughter, so Elea had always refused to consider it.
“They weren’t planned,” Swann admitted softly, his gaze never leaving hers.
“I can’t . . .” Elea spoke in measured tones. She didn’t have the bandwidth for anyone else right now. “Once we find Liisa, once all this is over, I’m going back to Finland.” The words carved a hollowness in her chest. Because at that moment, more than anything, she wanted her husband back.
Swann opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, placing them in Elea’s hand. “My old flat on the Brayford,” he said quietly. “You need a place to stay while you’re here.”
Elea nodded, curling her fingers over the keys. It felt natural somehow.
Swann shifted his weight. “There’s not a day that I don’t regret leaving. I should have weathered the storm.”
Elea looked at him for a long moment, studying the lines that had deepened on his face since they’d last been together.
The storm was still brewing, but she wouldn’t let him know.
Hearing him acknowledge his abandonment made something inside her shift.
“I don’t blame you,” she lied. “But I appreciate the sentiment. Now go home, get some sleep.”
“Hyv?? yot?.” The Finnish words rolled softly off his tongue as he wished her goodnight.
Elea exhaled the breath she had been holding as he left the room.
All this time, when she’d presumed Swann was desperate for a divorce, it was Alice pushing the narrative.
Alice, who fought like a tiger to keep her family together.
Swann said his children weren’t planned.
She wasn’t so sure about that. Not my circus, not my monkeys, she reminded herself.
She stared at the keys to his Brayford flat. What was she setting herself up for?