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Her heart leapt against her ribs as he pulled her into his arms.
‘It’ll be fine. I promise.’
She inhaled his scent, wishing she could hold it inside of her for ever, so that she would always have a part of him, but as his grip loosened she let go of her breath.
In the car, she tried to stare straight ahead, but as Paul started the engine she couldn’t stop herself from turning back to look at Basa. For a few half-seconds his dark eyes rested on her face, and then the car was moving, and she sat there, her stomach clenched with hope, waiting for him to come after her, willing him to yank op
en the door and tell her that he loved her.
But as the car turned into the road and they joined the mid-morning traffic she realised that, far from wanting her to stay, he had been willing her to leave.
* * *
Three hours later she was curled up on the sofa in her friend Emma’s tiny flat, the curtains drawn, a mug of undrunk tea on the table in front of her. Normally she loved a cup of tea, but this one had grown cold as she’d stared blankly at the book in her lap.
She had showered and changed out of what she’d been wearing, hoping the hot water and clean clothes would help shift the lethargy that had overtaken her as Paul drove her to Emma’s address. But it hadn’t helped. Sitting here alone, with damp hair and an oversized sweater, made it all feel much more real and final.
Glancing over at her phone, she resisted the urge to pick it up and check for messages or missed calls. She had left a message for Alicia, apologising, and then called her mum, who hadn’t picked up, so she’d left a message for her too. From Basa there had been nothing.
Her throat tightened, and she felt the heat of tears. But why would there be?
He was probably under siege from reporters and lawyers, and even if he wasn’t, why would he want to talk to her? He might have said he didn’t blame her, but that would change over time. And then there was Alicia...
Her stomach clenched. There would be no wedding film now. In fact, she wasn’t going to go to the wedding at all. She felt her breathing slow, for she knew how upset Lissy would be. It might even be the end of their friendship.
The dread in her stomach was hot and stinging, and slippery like a jellyfish. Not to go would be cruel, but to go would be worse in the long run, for it would be wilfully negligent of the consequences. It had to be this way. Like amputating a limb with frostbite. You had to lose the leg to save the life, and Lissy and Philip were worth saving a hundred times over.
Basa too.
His whole life had been spent looking after other people—looking after his father, parenting his sister, taking over the family business. Not only to protect his family, but also to protect the livelihoods of all those people who worked for him. And he wasn’t even thirty. He’d already sacrificed so much. She wasn’t going to make him sacrifice anything else.
Someone was ringing the doorbell.
Her whole body tensed.
The bones in her legs had locked tight and for a moment she couldn’t move. It couldn’t be a reporter—they didn’t bother waiting for you to answer. They lifted open the letterbox and shouted their questions through the door.
Her heart slid sideways. Only three people knew she was here. Emma, Paul and Basa.
Sliding the chain of the latch, she opened the door with a rush of anticipation.
But it wasn’t Basa.
It was her mother.
‘I got your message. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I went away for a couple of days with a friend and the signal was terrible.’
Mimi swallowed. ‘You didn’t have to come back, Mum.’
Her mother frowned. ‘Of course I came back—you’re my daughter. I’m not going to leave you to fight off those wolves on your own.’
Stepping into the flat, she closed the door and pulled Mimi into a hug. For a moment Mimi stiffened, trying to pull away, but her mum wouldn’t let her and finally she gave in to what she had been wanting to do since leaving Basa’s house. She burst into tears.
‘It will be all right.’ Leaning forward, her mother smoothed Mimi’s hair away from her face. ‘It’s just a photo, not a court case.’
‘A photo of me and Basa. And people hold grudges, Mum. They hold on to things—to feelings—for years.’
‘I know,’ her mum said quietly. ‘I held on to my past for far too long. But you’ve just spent a week with Basa—alone on an island. Everybody should let go of the past, and if you two can then so can everyone else.’
