Something was in the air. Erin could feel it. Most of the time she was privy to all of Adam’s business affairs, but over the last few days she was feeling increasingly excluded from what was going on. Adam’s door was closed most of the time: people were in and out and she could hear a lot of raised voices coming from his office. There had been several long meetings and lunch dates with someone called Claudia Falcon; Erin had googled her and found out she was a prominent securities banker.
Erin had assumed she knew everything about Adam’s business, but she was obviously mistaken. She only knew what Adam allowed her to know. Feeling frustrated and highly curious, she carried on with her emails, straining her ears for any more snippets of conversation. She knew that whatever was going on behind those closed doors was clearly either very good or very bad, and she was desperate to know which.
Sebastian Cavendish hadn’t wanted to be buried. He had told his wife, many months before his death, that he hated the idea of his expensively maintained body rotting away beneath the surface of the soil. Against the staunch wishes of his family, who wanted him to be buried in the village church where the Cavendishes still owned a Grade I listed manor house and were treated like local royalty, Karin had carried out Sebastian’s wishes. He had been cremated, his ashes strewn in the grounds of his parents’ house, and a David Linley-designed bench had been placed in a quiet corner of Holland Park where Sebastian used to go to read his papers.
It was hard to believe that was only a year ago, thought Karin, resting her elbow on the open window of her car as she drove towards Holland Park. Today was the first anniversary of Sebastian’s death and yet, honestly, she struggled to remember what life was like with him in it. Her new life with Adam was so true and sure and established, it had snuffed out all memories of a time before he existed.
Perhaps today would feel different, she thought. It was 11 a.m., and the morning skies were soft and hazy, promising another warm day. She parked the car in a metered bay on Addison Road and walked towards the park. She saw a old man, a neighbour who she recognized, and they nodded. His eyes looked apologetic. He clearly knew who she was. The tragic, beautiful widow who had lost her husband in a boating accident and had moved out of the area within months of it happening.
As Karin walked into the park towards Sebastian’s bench, she recognized another familiar figure moving towards it from another direction. Karin’s first instinct was retreat, but she could see she had been spotted.
Dammit, that’s all I need today, thought Karin, as she drew level with a cool, smartly dressed blonde. She was about forty, but looked good on it, thanks to her elegant, regal bone structure. Helen Cavendish, Sebastian’s sister. It had been her husband Matthew’s business partner who took out the charter of the Zeus every August, and thus Helen had been a guest aboard the yacht the night of Sebastian’s death.
For a second the air was filled with awkwardness, and then Karin gave a small smile. She had not seen Helen for many months. There was little love lost between them. Helen had been the ringleader of the argument over the burial and Karin also felt sure that Helen felt bitter about not receiving a penny from Sebastian’s estate. It was hardly Karin’s fault that there was nothing left to give after Seb’s debts; she had been lucky that the house was in her name.
‘Karin. It’s been a long time,’ said Helen quietly, holding her handbag in front of her like a shield.
‘I’m surprised to see you here,’ replied Karin, taking a seat on the bench. ‘After all, you did disagree with the idea of this.’
‘Well. There’s not much else to remember him by now, is there?’
Karin shrugged. ‘We can still remember though.’
Helen sat down next to Karin, perching on the edge of the wood as if she feared her coat becoming dirty from it.
‘Yes, we can.’ Her words were clipped, her expression sour.
‘Is there a problem, Helen?’ asked Karin.
Helen looked at Karin and paused before replying. ‘Matthew and I are divorcing.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ replied Karin.
Helen gave a small snort. ‘Are you, Karin? He told me what happened in Turkey the night Sebastian died.’
Helen’s remarks were like a bomb blast from nowhere. Karin had a flashback to a memory she had long tried to forget. For a second she thought about denying everything, but from the cold look on Helen’s face, it was clear that she knew the truth.
‘Helen, I don’t know what Matthew’s told you—’
‘He told me that after Seb took the tender back to the yacht, you tried to seduce my husband.’ Her tone was flat and without accusation.
‘Matthew seduced me,’ Karin replied softly, ‘but I don’t suppose it really matters, does it?’
‘No, it doesn’t. He doesn’t matter. You don’t matter. But what does matter is what happened to my brother that night,’ said Helen, looking far off into the distance.
Karin knew what she was implying; exactly the same thing all those society gossips had said.
‘Helen, it was an awful accident,’ said Karin. ‘No one knows how or why, but we just have to accept that.’
Helen glared at her, her eyes full of accusation. ‘You and Matthew slipped back to the boat. Why didn’t you tell the police?’
Karin sighed. ‘Because I was with your husband. There was enough hurt without bringing all that up.’
‘Matthew gave you your alibi, didn’t he?’ continued Helen. ‘He said he saw you dancing on the dance floor all evening,’ she snorted. ‘Bloody liar. Truth was you were both having sex together back in the cabin.’
‘Helen, please.’
Helen swivelled round, her lips in a tight line, her eyes pooled with anger. ‘Matthew came back to the club before we had noticed he was missing. You, on the other hand, remained on the yacht. What happened, Karin? What happened to Sebastian?’
Karin could feel frustration and anger rising. ‘Okay, look. It’s true,’ she said, her voice rising. ‘But when I got back to our cabin it was empty!’ She took a breath to compose herself. ‘I didn’t know where he was.’
A small white dog had trotted up to them and was sniffing around their feet. A warm breeze had picked up and rustled through the trees.
‘Things have turned right around for you this year, haven’t they, Karin?’ said Helen coolly.
Karin looked at her hands. ‘In the last six months, yes, I suppose they have.’
‘Your new boyfriend is very rich. I suspect he has a yacht of his own.’ Karin sat up.
‘What are you suggesting, Helen?’
Helen rose slowly and slung her handbag over her shoulder. ‘You know exactly what I’m suggesting, Karin. I’m watching you.’
Helen put two fingers to her lips, kissed them, and then put them down on the arm of the bench. ‘Goodbye, Seb. I miss you,’ she whispered, and walked off into the park.
Karin folded her arms in front of her, her eyes watching Helen go, but her mind completely lost in thought.