The Secret Path by Karen Swan (summer beach reads TXT) 📕

She lay there letting the simple fact settle, finally, within her bones. She would admit it to herself at last – that she loved him and she always would. Nothing could be done about it. A decade of running hadn’t outpaced it. Neither one of them was free from the other’s shadow. Right now, he was lying in a hut ten metres from here. Was he awake too?

She closed her eyes for a long moment. If they headed off early, before dawn, there was a good chance they could get back to the microlight before dark and fly out of the park; from there, they could arrange to drive to Jed’s village and undertake the short hike through the trees. This time tomorrow, if they could get through without incident or disaster, she would be back with Rory. She would be back in his arms and back in her own life and all of this could be locked in a box and quietly stored in a deep, dark part of herself. The truth she was facing here would become just another little secret to keep and – bar the handover ceremony, with Miles and Holly as her gatekeepers – she would never have to see Alex again.

Never again.

She felt the finality of it. This was the end.

Minutes passed.

This was the end. She would never see him again.

Never again.

Her heart pounded against her ribs as she swung her legs out of the hammock, remembering only as her toes went into her boots, to check them first. She upended the boots and flinched as a red spider fell out. She was trembling, her fingers fumbling as she readied herself, then tiptoed out of her hut. The village was asleep, even the jungle quiet. The moon’s light painted the scene silver as she walked over to the hut William had pointed out when he had come to check on them earlier, oblivious to the scene he was interrupting.

She stood at the door for several moments, telling herself she could still turn back, knowing she wouldn’t. This was inevitable, how it had to be. She lifted the latch on the door and peered into the darkness.

‘It’s me,’ she whispered, stepping inside.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Holly, lying flat out, wriggled her bottom and shoulders a little deeper into the sand and, for the twentieth time that hour, took a deep sigh of gratitude. She could hear Dev and Jimmy in the water, trying to stand on their boards. Failing, from the sound of it.

She lifted her head and looked over – just to check they were okay. One of them might get biffed on the head by the board or catch a rip tide; the locals kept telling them to keep an eye out for rips, that the Playa Cocles beach was safer, bigger, better, but they all liked it here. The small bay felt more private. Apart from a few locals first and last thing, hardly anyone came over here, to the extent that they had even taken to leaving the doors to their huts open as they lay on their towels on the beach.

She examined a leg, pleased that she – even she! – was finally showing hints of a tan. Her freckles were joining up and she was feeling good on all the juices she’d been having.

‘Hey.’

She looked up, shielding her eyes to take in the sight of Rory silhouetted against the setting sun. Even blacked out, he looked rough. He’d spent most of yesterday in his hut, had hardly said a word at dinner, and today he’d stayed away again, not even making a show at lunch. As sulks went, this was top-tier stuff.

‘Mind if I join you?’ His voice sounded like he had sandpaper in his throat.

‘Sure,’ she said, as he sank into the sand beside her. ‘How are you today? We missed you earlier.’

He shrugged in reply, arms draped languidly over his knees, looking out to sea.

‘I know, jet lag’s a bitch,’ she muttered, glancing at him sidelong. He had bags she could lance under his eyes and he hadn’t shaved for days, a golden stubble covering his jaw and cheeks like a harvested wheat field. The poor guy looked truly terrible. She sighed. ‘Ror . . . you’ve got to stop seeing this as something more than it is. She’ll be back any minute!’

‘It’s been four days.’

‘I know.’ Holly couldn’t quite disguise her own disappointment. She had missed having her friend here too and their group didn’t quite work without her as a central figure. ‘I don’t think she planned on it taking so long. Well, she didn’t plan any of it, let’s be honest. She just took off on this crusade. But she’s just off being a doctor. Doing doctorly things and trying to save a life. That little girl dying on her really shook her and with the hospital’s investigation on top . . . she’s never been in trouble in her life! It’s pretty obvious she’s just trying to exert some control because she feels powerless.’

Rory glanced down at her, his expression severe. He looked like he was going to say something but the words seemed to sink back down again, unspoken.

‘Listen, I get where you’re coming from but the helicopter’s coming for us in two hours and there’s no way she won’t be back for that. I know Ta. She adores her dad; she wouldn’t let him down for his big day. Come hell or high water, she will get back here in time.’

Rory didn’t reply but he didn’t seem unconvinced either; he too knew how much Tara admired her father. Holly leaned up on her elbows, joining his gaze as he watched her two boys playing on the water. Jimmy had caught a wave and was ‘popping up’ – there had been much teasing over Dev’s pops; he didn’t quite have their son’s rubbery bounce. The sun was beginning to set and Holly caught her breath as she watched her silhouetted child,