‘What’s going on? Has the sale fallen through? Is there an emergency back home? Are your parents okay?’
‘I’ve just been speaking to Steve. Look, this is going to be a long conversation. You should probably go change out of your wet swimsuit.’
‘I just want to know what’s happening. You’re stressing me out.’
‘Don’t tell me that’s new on you.’ But his wry humour was forced. ‘And here I was thinking how well you’ve always managed stress, because that was one of the clauses in your contract when I hired you. Steve has told me that rumours are swirling of a hurricane on the way. There has been no announcement yet, but he says everyone on the island can predict a landfall hurricane by a change in the atmosphere. It would seem the atmosphere has changed. When he pointed it out, it did occur to me that there’s something heavy in the air today. Have you felt it?’
‘It’s been a bit sticky.’
‘If he’s right, then there are going to be some change to our plans.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The timeline was for our return no later than tomorrow evening. Enough has been put in place for me to delegate the remaining detail to the lawyers and accountants who have been working on things in Nassau. If a hurricane is en route, then we can try to accelerate the last few changes that need to be cemented into the contracts or else we evacuate now, today, and return at a later date. Failing either of those options, we might just have to ride things out, which means possibly being stranded here for longer than anticipated.’
‘Stranded?’ Grace thought of Tommy worriedly.
‘Problems there?’ Nico looked at her narrowly, his antenna picking up more than just routine concern, nudging his curiosity and reminding him of the hidden depths he had glimpsed swirling beneath the unrevealing, predictable façade.
‘I have commitments...er...back at home.’
‘What commitments?’
‘The usual.’ Grace shrugged. He had told her things about himself, or rather about his background, but sharing wasn’t in his nature, and she had no intention of sharing her own troubles with Tommy or anything about her complicated background. This wasn’t because she felt he would not be sympathetic, but some gut instinct warned her that that level of confidence would not be welcome. Not in any way, shape or form.
‘It’s more than possible that there won’t be any hurricane. These things develop out at sea and their path can be erratic and tricky to predict but just in case...’
A lot to do.
That, Grace discovered nearly an hour later, was the upshot. The remaining guests at the hotel were briefed and told that they could choose to stay put because there was no certainty of anything happening, or else they could be transferred to whatever hotel in Nassau they wanted at no personal cost. Or flights back to the USA could be arranged immediately, as they were all from various parts of America.
Five couples and none with kids as they were all elderly, enjoying the freedom of children having flown the nest.
There was remarkably little dithering and, by evening, all had packed and left the hotel for a trip back to the USA, largely because their stays were pretty much finishing anyway.
Grace personally felt that it was all much ado about nothing, because there was not so much as a drop of rain or ominous roll of thunder.
Nico removed himself to the office to power through a series of emails and she enjoyed the evening to herself, sitting on the sprawling wooden veranda that circled the hotel like a bracelet, watching fireflies and listening to the rolling of waves on the shore.
This was the most removed she had ever felt in her life from her problems. Even Tommy, whose welfare was constantly on her mind, seemed more distant, and from this distance, with the slim possibility of not being able to return to London at the scheduled time, she wondered whether her unforeseen absence might not do him good.
For the first time she really thought about the implications of having spent a lifetime mothering him. All those years when Cecily had been missing in action and then, seamlessly, picking up the baton when he had had his accident, when Cecily had cheerfully waved goodbye and vanished to the other side of the world with her new husband.
Had she made Tommy over-dependent on her? She spoke to him most evenings in London, went to see him sometimes as often as twice a week. She had been given permission by him to talk to his therapist about sessions and she did. With regularity. As with his various physios. She was ever present, concerned and encouraging. But had that concern and encouragement stopped her brother from taking responsibility for himself? Had it stopped her from taking responsibility for herself? For a future still waiting in the wings to get going? Had she carved a role for herself and cemented herself in, only willing to indulge a crush on her boss that would never come to anything? Had it been easier to do nothing rather than break free of her cage? One Internet date that hadn’t worked out and she had once again retreated from doing what needed to be done to really build a life for herself. And maybe, by focusing so much on Tommy, she had also taken away his independence and his need to build a life forhimself.
Only here in these peaceful surroundings had she really thought about that.
Grace only noticed the sudden stillness when she heard a very distant rumble of thunder.
It was so far away that she didn’t give it a second thought, but she woke when it was still dark, in the early hours of the morning, to a banging on her door, and when she pulled it open, rubbing her eyes drowsily, it was to find Nico standing in the doorway. He looked dishevelled.
‘The hurricane warning came through a couple of hours ago. The meteorologists were convinced that it was going to veer away, straight towards the east coast of America, but it unexpectedly swerved, hence the late, frantic warning.’ He raked his fingers through his hair and looked at her with piercing dark eyes.
‘What time is it?’
‘After eight.’
‘What?’