Chapter Twenty-Seven
Elle marched along the quayside towards the Shady Lady with a ‘let’s get it over with’ air. While aboard Seadancer she’d changed into a white dress that looked amazing with her tan, and yanked her hair up into a knot on the top of her head.
Troubled, Lucas took her hand. A few hours ago it had seemed supportive to refuse to discuss Elle without her being present. He’d felt as if he was ranking himself on her side, creating a boundary for his parents not to cross. But as he’d explained the situation to Elle, defensive wariness had frozen her expression and he could swear she’d shrunk from him. In her eyes there was something he really didn’t like.
Disappointment?
As he’d waited on the quayside, trying not to attach any particular importance to her not inviting him to her cabin while she changed, he’d gazed almost unseeingly at two fishermen dangling their lines between the boats in the calm marina waters, and the expression in Elle’s eyes had bothered him. A lot.
Now, striding beside her, he was beginning to feel like he was not just taking a lamb to slaughter but asking it how it would like to be cooked.
Much as he loved his parents, he was under few illusions about them. Fiona, particularly, was self-assured and direct to the extent that people in her practice affectionately called her ‘Fearsome Fiona’. Or possibly not always affectionately.
He halted. ‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’
She made to carry on up the marina. ‘It’s what you want, isn’t it?’
His hand tightened on hers and he tugged her back. ‘Not if it’s going to make you uncomfortable.’
She turned her blue eyes on him, grave and guarded. ‘Your parents have always made me uncomfortable. They never made any effort to make me feel anything else. If I don’t answer their summons then where do we go from here?’ There was anger in her voice but also resignation.
He didn’t like either one. ‘Shit. I have got it wrong. Now you’re uncomfortable with me.’
Her gaze switched to the Shady Lady and a small frown creased her brows. Slowly, she said, ‘I don’t think your suggesting that I be given the opportunity to hear their concerns is the issue. The issue is that your parents have an issue. With me. The fact that they’ve prioritised bringing that issue to your attention, considering the circumstances under which they’re on the island, is an indicator of the level of their concern. I think ignoring that would be the wrong thing to do. Signals are there for us to learn from.’
She sounded if she was in a team meeting. Remote. Assessing. Deciding. Acting.
His heart sank and he cursed his tendency towards prompt decisions, because it was a complete bitch when those decisions turned out to be wrong. He should have heard his parents out and organised his defences — their defences, his and Elle’s — once he understood the situation, instead of leaping to the stance of it being wrong to talk behind Elle’s back. It had felt wrong. Wrong was wrong. So he’d said so.
Elle had always said that he saw nothing between right and wrong. She was right.
Time for damage limitation. ‘Then we’d better send out a few signals of our own, hadn’t we?’ He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
Her gaze returned to his face and her frown lifted for just a moment. ‘Let’s see,’ was all she said.
* * *
Fiona and Geoffrey were waiting in the saloon, long clear drinks in front of them. ‘Good evening,’ said Fiona, ever the spokesperson.
‘Hi,’ said Elle, sliding onto the sofa opposite them without waiting to be invited.
Geoffrey cleared his throat. ‘Gin and tonic?’
‘No thanks.’ Elle hated gin and tonic. It hadn’t taken the senior Roses long to provision the boat to their own tastes.
‘Beer?’ suggested Lucas.
With a quick smile, Elle nodded, watching him jump down into the galley and swoop up bottles from the fridge.
While showering and changing, Elle had taken a few minutes to think. Ideally, she would have liked her brain to supply her with a confidence-inspiring plan to take the fight to her opponents. She’d tried to visualise herself being more forthright than Fiona, more intimidating than Geoffrey, coolly articulate as she enquired as to the nature of their concerns, impressing them with her maturity and poise.
Unfortunately, it was a vision that refused to form. Much clearer was the spectre of Elle stammering guiltily the instant Fiona fixed her with that legal eagle glare.
So she’d decided upon the strategy of speaking only to reply, allowing Lucas’s parents to state their business and expose their battle plan. She smoothed down her dress, folded her hands, and looked politely from Fiona to Geoffrey.
Fiona’s brows lifted. ‘It was a surprise for us to learn that you were living here with Lucas, Elle.’
‘Simon’s idea of helping out,’ Lucas supplied. ‘He felt we needed some help to get back together. And it’s worked out better than we first thought it would.’
‘I see.’ Fiona looked at Elle.
Elle gazed back.
‘Would you say that you are back together?’ Fiona prompted.
Again it was Lucas who answered, his voice calm and reasonable. His thigh was warm and firm against Elle’s. ‘I think we’re old enough to sort ourselves out, Mum. You don’t need to be concerned. When we’re ready to tell you something, we’ll tell you.’
Fiona nodded, sadly, as if she’d feared as much. She exchanged a look with her husband and took a surprisingly enthusiastic slug of gin and tonic. For the first time, it crossed Elle’s mind that Fiona wasn’t enjoying herself. Everything about her spoke of a woman gearing herself up for an unpleasant task.
Being viewed as an unpleasantness gave her a jagged pain in her chest, and being so obviously disliked made her feel physically sick.
She had to resist the urge to justify herself. Look I’m not such an awful person. I was young and stupid and I was manipulated. That’s not a crime! At least give me and Lucas a chance. We can mess things up without your help.
But begging for understanding wasn’t going to win her any respect — or, for that matter, any understanding. She pressed her lips together and left the floor to Fiona.
This time, when Fiona spoke, it was to her son. Her voice was gentle. ‘I would really have liked us to have this chat in private, Lucas. It would have been so much better.’ She paused.
They waited.
Fiona took another slug of her gin. ‘Something happened. We didn’t tell you at the time because we thought it would cause unnecessary pain. You’d already left to live in America with Simon.’ She licked her lips. ‘A man made an appointment to see me at the office. Richard Manion.’
Elle jumped. She felt the muscles in Lucas’s thigh twitch, as if some reaction was trying to burst out of him.
Geoffrey stirred, turning his gaze on Elle. ‘I think you call him Ricky,’ he clarified, as if she might not have noticed the name of her ex-husband on Fiona’s lips.
Fiona darted a glance at Elle, but then returned her gaze to Lucas. ‘I’m very sorry to tell you that Mr Manion tried to blackmail me. He also told me the truth about Elle. It seems as if the boat’s not the only “shady lady” around here.’