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‘So you gave up?’ His pride might have contributed to him not finding out about his son, but the bulk of the responsibility was still hers.
Watching her eyes widen with anger and astonishment, seeing the sudden shine of tears, he felt harsh, cruel—only before he could say anything she took a step towards him.
‘Yes, I gave up! Because I was on my own and I was sick and I was scared.’ She breathed out unsteadily. ‘But even if I hadn’t given up, and you had got my messages, you wouldn’t have called me anyway. No doubt something very important at work would have come up and you’d have had to deal with that instead.’
He stared at her in silence, his face set and tense, his dark eyes narrowing like arrowheads. ‘Not this again.’ He shook his head. ‘Unlike you, Teddie, I’m not a magician. I can’t just pull a hotel out of a hat and take a bow. I work on global projects that employ tens of thousands of people. I have responsibilities, commitments.’
His face looked cold and businesslike. It was the face he’d used on her when he’d been late home from work, or cancelled dinner, or spent all weekend on the phone. Behind him, through the window, the flat, shifting blues of the Mediterranean seemed an oddly serene backdrop to their heated argument.
‘Responsibilities...commitments...’ Her voice echoed his words incredulously. ‘Yes, you do, Aristo. Four years ago you had a wife—me—and now you have a son—George.’
‘I was working to build up the business for you, so you didn’t have to worry about money!’
Surely she could understand his motives for working so hard? Had they stayed together she would have been the first to complain, for women were never satisfied with just enough—they always wanted more.
‘Well, I didn’t marry you for your money.’
He heard the catch in her voice and his chest tightened as he watched her lip tremble.
‘And you’re already fantastically wealthy. So why are you still working as though your life depends on it?’
There was a short, strained silence, and then, as his phone started to ring again, she took a deep breath.
‘You should probably answer that,’ she said quietly. ‘We clearly have nothing left to say.’
And, turning, she walked swiftly out of the room.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, having got directions from Melina, she and George reached the right cove. The pirate boat was at the back of the beach on the dunes, its wooden hull bleached like the bones of some marine animal. It was more of a rowing boat than an actual pirate ship with masts, but it was still recognisably a boat and, on seeing it, George began towing her down the dunes.
‘Look, Mommy, look!’
‘I can see it, darling,’ she said quickly.
He’d been unusually quiet during the walk, and she was grateful to hear a hint of his former excitement back in his voice.
After walking out of Aristo’s office she had collected him from the kitchen, explaining in an over-bright voice that, ‘Daddy is very sorry that he can’t come right now, but he wants us to go without him.’
Watching her son’s face fall, she had wanted to storm back into Aristo’s office, snatch his phone and hurl it out of the window along with his laptop. She knew exactly how George was feeling, and the fact that she had somehow let it happen, by letting her selfish, workaholic ex-husband into his life, felt like a dagger between her ribs.
‘Do you want to have a look inside?’ she whispered.
He nodded and, leaning down, she picked him up. They inspected the ship carefully, but aside from a few small startled crabs they found nothing.
George sighed and, glancing down at him, she saw that his eyes were shining with tears. With an intensity that hurt, she wished she had planned ahead and hidden something for him to find.
‘Daddy would know where the treasure is,’ he said sadly.
She breathed out silently. But Daddy isn’t here. He’s holed up his office, expanding his empire.
‘He might—but we haven’t really looked properly. And most treasure is buried, isn’t it?’ she said reasonably.
‘Yes, it is,’ said a familiar male voice as a shadow fell across her. ‘And no self-respecting pirate would ever leave his treasure lying about on his ship.’
‘Daddy!’
George launched himself at his father.
