When he’s out of earshot, Caleb shakes his head. “He can’t even fake it, can he? All dressed up like nothing’s happened, still on his jolly.”
“I don’t know . . . people deal with things differently. Jo mentioned earlier that he finds it hard to open up.”
Caleb barks a short laugh. “When people say that I always think it’s just a convenient excuse to do what the hell you want. His type isn’t bothered by anything.”
“His type?” Hana probes, although she can predict what he’s about to say from the snippets he’s let slip since they’ve been here. His politics are clear.
“Spoiled, entitled, used to riding roughshod over everybody. Bea said as much, and she’s right.”
Bea said as much. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “Bea wasn’t exactly a fan, put it that way, but I don’t think she was surprised they’d found each other. She thought they were well suited, Seth and Jo.”
Hana hesitates, taken aback. “I’m not sure about that, I know Bea was worried when they first got together. The whole drugs thing.”
“That was before the argument. I think that’s when she finally saw Jo’s true colors.” Caleb paddles his feet in the water. The movement makes little circles ripple outward.
“The argument about Bea canceling?”
“No, before that.” Caleb raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
“No. When was this?”
“Only a few weeks ago. Jo came to ours and they got into a fight. A pretty nasty one, from the sound of it. Bea ended up walking out.” He shrugs. “I was convinced that’s why Bea canceled. Didn’t fancy round two. Part of me thought the U.S. trip was a neat way of getting out of it.”
“Bea never told you what the argument was about?”
“No, but I always got the sense that Jo was picking away at her, grinding her down argument by argument, for no particular reason other than that she was jealous.”
“Of Bea?”
“Yes. Bea never voiced it, but I think that’s partly why she didn’t make more of an effort to keep in touch. She was busy, yes, but I think it was an excuse for her to not have to do it.”
“Do what?” Hana’s voice falters. She wonders if they’d also thought the same about her—that she was jealous—because she was. She, too, found herself jealous of Bea at times.
“Play herself down to make everyone else feel better. Protect their fragile egos. Other women in particular. She never felt like she could be herself in case it threatened people.”
He’s right, she thinks, flushing, reflecting on her own workplace, the whispered, snide takedowns of their female headmistress. Hana had often wondered if some women are hardwired to begrudge another’s success: an evolutionary mechanism to try to temper it or put it down, and failing that, ignore it. She’s been guilty of it too.
Caleb takes another pull of beer. “I think Bea was happier when she wasn’t with the family. I know it’s a shitty thing to say, but it’s true.”
31
Elin slips across the path toward the main lodge, bypassing a group of diners in flimsy dresses, laughing loudly. She keeps walking, quicker and quicker, as if each step will push her embarrassment away, but it doesn’t; her cheeks are burning as she relives the conversation.
Why do it? But she knows the answer: deep down, part of her is threatened by Will and Farrah’s intimacy. Horrible to admit, but there it is.
Rounding the back of the lodge, she stops a few feet from the back doors, settling on the low wall at the edge of the terrace. The cool of the stone is a delicious relief as it seeps through her dress to her thighs.
Her eyes are pulled past the grassy area below the wall to the dark mass of the woodland beyond. With the sky fading to a soft pastel, the sun is no longer strong enough to penetrate the sweeping arms of the trees, meeting in places to form a dense canopy. Her skin is prickling, senses on high alert.
Total silence.
She can’t even hear the sounds of the restaurant. No cutlery clanking, laughter, conversation. It feels wilder here, like stepping into another world. As she looks around, she can’t help but feel as though a clear line has been drawn between the front of the retreat and the back.
Before now, Elin hadn’t really appreciated how little of the island the retreat actually covers. As her eyes sweep over the mass of trees below, she has the unnerving feeling that despite the retreat, nature is the dominant force here, firmly in control.