She watched him sleep.
Matched her breathing to his.
She tried to calm, but the dream had been too vivid. Her and Abi on the beach, the first Forevers, so clear she woke with a start and for a few cruel seconds forgot Abi was gone.
She felt the heat in her chest, her hate for Jon Prince so hot she couldn’t breathe.
Mae left him and walked along the cliff path that ran behind the sprawling gardens till she came to the Prince house.
She climbed over the back wall and stopped by the cavernous hole.
She saw the lift, the lights, but the garden was quiet. She guessed the men were done, that the bunker was complete.
The screen doors were open.
Net curtains caught the wind and billowed out towards her. As she slipped into the house she pressed close to the white wall and listened.
The decor was dark wood and leather, flat screens and a pool table.
She needed him to pay, for what he’d done to Abi, and to Hugo. She’d find something in his office, a message, a note, something that linked him to a teenage girl. Maybe she’d paste it around town, let people see the real him, make him live his last hours under a cloud of shame.
She passed a painting of a sailing boat, thought of Mr Starling out there, setting a course for the end of the world and intending to sail right off it.
Upstairs she moved through the bedrooms, heard a shower running and found her way to the study.
She searched through draws, files, notes. She saw a leather diary and checked that too. She tried to imagine Abi with Jon Prince, shook the image from her mind and moved on into the spare bedroom. There was nothing in there but a bench, a barbell and a running machine.
Mae was about to turn and leave when she felt the rumble.
The whole house shook.
Mae ran into Hugo’s room and shut herself in the wardrobe, breathing hard as she peered out through the slats.
Hugo came in, wet from the shower.
He dropped his towel and stood naked, staring at himself in the mirror.
Six two, his body pared back to nothing but muscle. He wasn’t big like Liam, whose veins popped from injecting himself with steroids. He was the perfect size to cut through the water when he swam.
He flexed his arms and watched the biceps swell. Front on, the way he stood, you couldn’t see them.
And then he turned slightly, his leg pivoting, and she saw the angry scars on his inner thighs.
He took a deep breath and tried to pinch the fat around his lower stomach. She saw him visibly relax when he couldn’t.
Hugo moved to the wardrobe opposite and took the heavy box down.
Mae watched him carry the make-up case to the mirror by his door.
And then he got to work.
He concealed the dark bruise beneath his eye. And then he painted his lips, and contoured his cheekbones.
Mae smiled as she watched him.
When he was done, she saw someone else.
And maybe he did too.
Hugo Prince looked at himself in the mirror, smiled once and wiped the mask away.
And then he sat on the bed, found a small scalpel hidden in the bedside cabinet and tried not to cry out as he dragged it across his skin.
The scars opened.
He never let them heal.
Mae held her breath when she heard a knock at the door.
‘Just a second.’ Hugo moved instantly, put the box away and pulled on a pair of shorts. ‘Yeah.’
Jon Prince crossed the threshold, arms folded tight across his chest as he stared at his son, the stare so cold Mae shivered.
‘It was bigger this time. The house shook.’
Hugo nodded.
‘Today,’ Jon Prince said.
Hugo stood, hands by his side, his back military straight.
He watched his father as he spoke, the long hair tied back.
‘You missed swim practice.’
Mae saw Hugo fight the tremble in his knees. ‘I just … three days … Everyone went to the beach.’
‘You haven’t been the same since Abi. First it was the car, then that stupid tattoo, now this. You’re losing focus.’
Jon reached out and squeezed his son’s shoulder, hard enough that when he took his hand away a red print remained. ‘Abi took her own life, correct?’
Hugo went to shrug.
‘Correct?’
‘That’s what Sergeant Walters said.’
‘So whatever happened, whatever was done to her, she couldn’t cope with it. It’s a test, Hugo. We can roll over and give up, or we can …’ Jon stared at his son, willing him.
Hugo cleared his throat. ‘Or we can pick up our shovel and dig.’
Jon nodded, no smile.
Mae thought of Abi’s face, the way her body lay broken on the rocks.
‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’
‘This isn’t the end, Hugo. No matter how it plays out, this won’t be the end for us. And we can come out stronger on the other side, or we can join the rest of the town watching the sky and reddening our knees in church. Now get some sleep, you have training in the morning.’
At that Jon turned.
‘I miss her,’ Hugo said.
The words landed hard. Jon turned back and stared at his son like he couldn’t work out who he was, where he’d come from.
‘We don’t talk about –’
‘I miss her,’ he said again.
Jon clenched his fists and Mae closed her eyes. She could not watch it again without doing something.
‘You said it would get easier.’
Jon stared at him, eyes blazing so hot Mae felt the burn. ‘I’ve given you everything. You can still be everything. You’re a Prince.’
‘I don’t want to be you.’
Jon took a step nearer. ‘Say that again?’
Mae willed Hugo to stay silent, to resist that urge that she could not.
She breathed again as Jon turned and left.
When Hugo’s light cut, and his breathing changed, Mae crept quietly into the hallway. And then she heard it.
It was soft at first, then louder.
The regular thump of a headboard against a wall.
As she cracked open the door to Jon Prince’s bedroom the world tilted on her again.
Mae thought of Luke Manton as she watched his wife lie back on Jon Prince’s bed, eyes closed as Jon grunted away on top of her.