Page 72 of A Very Happy Easter

Heath didn’t smile. “I’m semi-incapacitated at the moment, plus we have two people tied up here guarding you twenty-four-seven. It would be extremely difficult for Short to get to you overseas. The airports are being monitored, plus he’d have to find you first.”

“You think I should leave?”

“I think we should go to San Gallicano early.”

“We?”

“The boss is pissed. She told me to take some personal leave and get you the hell away from London.”

“She’s angry at you?”

“No, she’s angry at Short. She doesn’t want anything else to happen to either of us while the rest of the team deals with the issue. If you’re away from the house, we can switch one man from here to a different role, which frees up more resources for the investigation. And I can double as a bodyguard.”

“But what about work? All of these Easter eggs?”

Heath glanced at the stack of boxes by the door. “You weren’t fucking kidding, were you?”

“Polly was very generous, but…but… How are we even supposed to hide these? They’re enormous.”

“Just hide tokens, and folks can swap the tokens for the eggs.”

Oh. That was surprisingly simple.

“You think I can’t handle the eggs?” Salma asked from the doorway. “Hello? We’ve been working together for six years; I can cope with a little disaster like this one.” She rummaged through the nearest carton and held out a box to Heath. “Want one? It’s seventy percent cocoa with an extra-thick gold-dusted shell.”

“I wouldn’t want to deprive the children.”

“If we give the children twelve eggs each, they’ll end up diabetic. Can I put Blackwood down for a dozen outers? Or two dozen? Let’s say two dozen. I’ll change the flights and see if we can extend the booking for the villa you’re staying in.”

“I’m not sure about this.” Six weeks in the Caribbean with Heath? I didn’t hate the idea. But I did hate that I’d brought Neil Short to his doorstep, that I’d almost got him and so many other people killed. I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive myself for that. “Heath, did your passport even survive the fire?”

“It was in my locker at work.”

Salma pointed to the door. “Go pack. Actually, it’ll be faster if I do it.”

“You honestly think this is necessary?” I asked Heath quietly.

“I hate running from a fight, but I’d sleep better if you were out of Short’s reach. And I can’t say I’d mind an extra month in the Caribbean.”

“What if six weeks go by and Neil’s still on the loose?”

“I have full confidence that the situation will be resolved by then. Don’t forget your sunscreen.”

Twenty

“Way to ruin me for all other holidays, Edie. Suddenly, backpacking around Vietnam has lost its appeal.”

“Sorry.” But I wasn’t, not really. If we had to go into exile, we might as well do it in style. In our first real piece of luck this week, the only guests due to stay in Casa Santo in the month before our original booking had cancelled at the last minute, so their loss was our gain. The pilot who’d flown us to Sasurra on an otherwise empty plane said they’d probably backed out due to the weather—unusually heavy rain was forecast for much of the next month. But even the thought of getting wet didn’t dampen my mood. The place was prettier in person than it had been in the photos.

“Hey, I’ve ruined myself for all other holidays too.”

“Doesn’t your family have a ski chalet in Italy?”

“No, France. Val d’Isère.” Chalet Lueur was a beautiful ski-in, ski-out property with stunning views, a vaulted ceiling and inglenook fireplace in the living room, and a hot tub plus sauna on the terrace. “When I was eleven, I skied out the front door, dropped my lift pass, and got run down by not one but six gobby investment bankers as I tried to retrieve it. On the plus side, I can vouch for the fact that the care in French hospitals is excellent.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Anyhow, that was the last time I went skiing, although as I got older, I did participate enthusiastically in certain elements of the après-ski scene, at least until Neil took that from me as well.” I gave Heath a sheepish smile. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to write a letter to my younger self.”

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