Page 8 of Deep Blue Sea

‘I thought you came to Thailand for a simpler life,’ said Liam.

‘I did, and I found it, but this seems like too much of a good opportunity. Come on, Liam, don’t say you’re not tempted.’

‘Tempted in a masochistic sort of way.’

‘Just think about it . . .’

He paused for a moment, as if he was weighing up what she had said.

‘Even if we were prepared to take it on – and I’m not saying we should – how could we afford it? A plot that size, with twenty bungalows and beach access, it’s got to be fifty million baht minimum.’

Rachel pulled a face. It was the one stumbling block to her plan.

‘I was kind of hoping you might have some savings,’ she said hopefully. ‘Come on, you were a hotshot lawyer.’

‘Not that hotshot. And I’m enough of a lawyer to know there are restrictions on foreigners owning property in Thailand, and they’re pretty strict about the legislation.’

‘Well Jim managed it, and he’s a Kiwi. Come on, I’m sure your huge legal brain can find a loophole.’

He was laughing gently, shaking his head.

‘What’s so funny?’ she asked, inordinately cross.

‘Oh, just that you come all this way to escape from something, but the truth is, we all bring it with us. You can’t get away from it, can’t get away from what we are.’

‘And what am I exactly?’ she replied quietly, unsure that she wanted to hear his reply.

‘You’re ambitious, Rach.’ He held up a hand before she could interrupt. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with that. I just thought you wanted to take your foot off the gas.’

‘I’m not like you,’ she said softly. ‘I didn’t choose to give it all up.’

&

nbsp; She stared out at the dramatic sunset, which was pouring ribbons of peach and purple light across the water.

‘Well, at the very least we should take on another member of staff.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ he said, holding up his beer bottle and clinking it against her glass. ‘We’ve certainly got more work than the two of us can handle at the moment. Do you have anyone in mind?’

Rachel nodded absently, distracted by her phone buzzing in her pocket. She gestured towards the bar and held up her empty glass to Liam as she lifted the phone to her ear.

‘Hello,’ she said, but there was only a crackle at the other end. ‘Anyone there?’

There was a pause, and then a voice. A voice she hadn’t heard in years. It made her heart pound and her lips dry.

‘Mum?’ she said, trying to sound more casual than she felt. ‘How are you?’

Another pause.

‘Can you talk.’

Not a question, Rachel noticed. A demand, impatient and impersonal. Sylvia Miller was thousands of miles away, but she still had the power to make her daughter feel ten years old.

‘Of course,’ she said, looking at Liam before standing up and walking out of the bar and down on to the beach.

‘What’s up?’ she said, knowing how lame it sounded. She just didn’t know what to say. It had been such a long time since she had spoken to her mother.

‘Julian’s dead.’