The Secrets Between Us Read Free Page B

table. He stood when he saw us and smiled.
    ‘Hello, you,’ he said, and he stepped forward to take mysister’s hands. They kissed quietly, and without fuss, and I looked at my feet.
    When they drew apart they were still smiling into each other’s eyes like lovers who hadn’t seen one another for years, rather than the twenty minutes or so they had been apart. It wasn’t their fault, but their intimacy humiliated me.
    We sat down, scraping the metal feet of the chairs on the paving slabs. Within moments, a waiter was at our table, putting down a chilled glass jug of iced water, a little wicker basket of bread and a bowl of flavoured olives.
    ‘How did work go?’ I asked Neil. ‘Did you get everything you needed?’
    ‘More or less.’ He pulled a sardonic expression. May and I exchanged smiles. Neil was always self-deprecating but I knew he was good at his job. There was a big demand for the stories he generated, which weren’t always the kind Laurie approved of. Sometimes there had been friction between the two men when they met at family gatherings or social occasions. I’d tried to stay neutral, but had felt I ought to side with Laurie, out of loyalty. Having dinner with Neil every night in Sicily had made me realize what a gentle, funny person he was. I was glad my sister was married to such a lovely man. I wished I’d realized sooner.
    He and May began to talk about something else, some friend of theirs who was having family problems. I tried not to listen to their conversation. I concentrated on watching people come and go inside the hotel. My eyes followed an incoming couple, a frail man wearing a fedora and a younger man – his son, perhaps – who accompanied him. They exchanged a few friendly words with the concierge, picked up their key and walked over to the elevator shaft. As they did so the lift doors slid apart. Out stepped a small boy with large ears. It was the little boy from the pool, Jamie. I hadn’t seen him since that day. He was wearing clean but crumpled trousers and a T-shirt that was rather too big for him. Helooked as if he had been woken when he would have rather slept on. Behind was his father, wearing jeans and a baggy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Alexander was followed by a tall, smart, skull-faced man in a cream linen suit who carried, under his arm, a leather case, about the size of a laptop.
    The two men stopped in the foyer. The skull-faced man patted Alexander on the back and they spoke privately for another moment, their heads close together, and it was clear from their faces that their discussion was serious. Jamie sank against his father’s thigh and tugged at his shirt. Eventually, the men pulled apart. Alexander took an envelope from his pocket and gave it to the other man. He opened the envelope, looked inside, shook hands with Alexander, ruffled the top of Jamie’s head, and left.
    Alexander watched him go and ran a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted. I could see the child’s mouth moving. He pulled his father’s hand in frustration and the man looked down at him as if he had forgotten he was there.
    He checked his watch and had a word with the concierge. She gestured towards the garden, suggesting they ate in the hotel restaurant. I watched as they came through the glass doors. The maître d’ went over to them. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically, turned the palms of both hands towards the sky and raised them. What could he do? All the tables were taken or reserved.
    I saw Jamie’s face fall. He sank a little into himself. The poor child was tired and hungry, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him having to wait any longer to eat. It was late enough already.
    I glanced at May and Neil. I wanted to ask if they’d mind, but they were still engrossed in one another, so I took matters into my own hands. I stood and crossed the terrace, between the tables and the overhanging lights, to where the man and boy stood. I steadied myself against the