Her face is serious as she lets him squeeze her fingers, before sliding her hand delicately away, her right hand going to her wedding ring to twist it on her finger. ‘It’s quite a big deal, Rupert. I’m not sure how you’re going to react.’
Rupert’s first instinct is to reply that of course she doesn’t know how he’s going to react, if she won’t just bloody tell him what it is that’s got her so worried. But he bites the words back, reminding himself that she’s not Caro. She can’t read him like a book, the way Caro used to. Not yet anyway.
‘I don’t know, maybe I’m just being silly… but I really don’t think I am.’ Emily shifts in her seat and looks away. ‘I am a bit worried that… well, that someone isn’t very happy about the two of us being together.’
‘What do you mean, someone isn’t happy about us being together? This isn’t about Mags, is it? She hasn’t upset you again?’ Rupert feels a familiar prickle of annoyance. He thought they were done with all of this. He was relieved when Emily hadn’t invited her trouble-making friend to the wedding.
‘No, it’s just…’ A deep red flush is staining Emily’s cheeks, and she fidgets in her chair, clearly uncomfortable. ‘I’m worried that people think I’m only after you for money – which I’m not – you know that, right?’
Rupert nods. ‘Of course I know that, but who cares about what anyone else thinks?’
‘I got a letter,’ Emily blurts out, ‘calling me a bitch. I don’t know who it was from, but it was in a bundle of post. I don’t know if it was sent to me at the flat or sent to the house. Our house.’
‘Jesus.’ Rupert sits back and shoves a hand through his hair. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Have you still got the letter?’
‘No,’ Emily shakes her head, ‘I threw it away. I didn’t want to worry you, that’s why I never said anything. Harry called me that once or twice.’ She looks down and Rupert sees a tiny damp spot on the tablecloth where a single tear has fallen. ‘I got a text message, the night of my hen party, saying pretty much the same thing. And then some hideous woman was in the loos at the wedding, saying I was basically a gold-digger. I love you, Rupert, I just want to be with you. I don’t understand who would want to say these awful things to me.’
‘It sounds to me like someone is a bit jealous, that’s all.’ Rupert takes her hands in his. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, and I certainly don’t care what other people might think. We know this is the real deal. You and me, we’re the only people who matter.’
Emily nods, but says nothing.
‘And you certainly don’t need to worry about Harry, or Mags, or anyone else who might want to stick their oar in. I’m here to look after you now and I won’t let anyone hurt you. Em, you’re safe with me – if I see any sign of Harry, I’ll send him packing. We’re a team. Does that sound OK?’
Emily is quiet for a moment, before she says, ‘That sounds absolutely perfect.’
They spend the next few days soaking up the sunshine, Emily arranging herself prettily on a sun lounger each morning, while Rupert pulls his slightly to one side into the shade. He burns easily and doesn’t want to look like a lobster when they both look back on their honeymoon photos. He is frantically checking emails – trying to keep up with all the work that still floods his inbox even whilst on holiday – tapping quietly at his phone screen while Emily dozes. She wants to try scuba diving later, and he absolutely has to get these figures back before lunchtime. She has still been a little subdued since their conversation over dinner, and Rupert can’t shake off the nagging feeling that there is still something bothering her. He’ll bring it up tonight at dinner, he thinks, just double-check that she is OK. He goes back to his figures, not noticing when Emily stretches and sits up, reaching over for the suntan lotion and smoothing it into her legs. He doesn’t notice when she shifts on her sun lounger, rolling over so she is propped on one shoulder, facing him.
‘Rupert.’
Rupert holds up one finger, his eyes running down the column of figures in front of him. ‘One minute, Em, I really need to get this checked and back to the office. Grab a cocktail if you want, I won’t be long.’
‘Rupert, I wanted to ask you something.’ Emily sits up, sprinkles of sand clinging to her ankles and feet.
‘Just give me a minute, please? I promise, I won’t do any more work today once this is done.’ Rupert reaches out a hand and strokes her thigh, as he saves the document and attaches it to an email. ‘There, done.’
Emily shakes her head and lowers herself back down onto the sun lounger, a frown drawing her brows together as her words come out in a rush. ‘Rupert, tell me about Caro.’
‘Caro?’ Rupert stalls, his heart rate speeding up. Glad he is wearing sunglasses, he risks a glance towards where Emily lies, but she has her eyes closed as she waits for his response. ‘What… what do you want to know about her?’ He supposes it was inevitable that Emily would ask questions about Caro eventually.
‘What happened?’
‘You know what happened. She died.’
‘No.’ Emily turns to him and props herself up on one elbow. ‘I mean what happened? I know she died, and I know it’s hard to talk about, but I just want to understand.’
‘Understand what?’ Rupert gives a shaky laugh. ‘There’s nothing to understand.’ He reaches for her, stroking from behind her ear and tracing a line down her neck and along her collarbone in the way he
