be a good idea.
“That bad, huh?” Adam tutted. “Come on, let's get you out of here.” He strode out of the office, waited for me to emerge, and then locked up and marched off. He paused when he spotted that I was having trouble keeping up. My head was beating with every step. I reached him, and he set off again, more slowly.
“Adam, don't say you're an idiot,” I said. “If anyone's an idiot, it's me. Actually, I came to apologise.”
“Hmm?” Adam spotted someone he knew and waved at them. “What on earth for?”
“Last night. I was pissed off. When you kept saying the whole thing was just normal. I mean, I know that's what the police thought, but I didn't want to hear it from you. I was upset. I never even thanked you for taking the day off to go down there with me.”
Adam stopped again and looked at me silently. He chuckled. “Harry, you're too polite, that's your problem. I'm a politician, remember? My hide is the envy of rhinos everywhere.” He was lying, of course, but I knew from past experience that there was no point in pressing it. He steered me down the halls of regional government towards the world outside.
“It should be me apologising,” he said. “A day like that, and there's me trying to get you to think about her as though she was a complete stranger. You'd've had every right to give me a bloody nose.” He pointed towards a flight of stairs, and we clattered down them towards the marbled lobby. “Isn't that true, Malcolm?” he called to the security man in the lobby. “Politicians. Insensitive. Talk too much, never pay attention.”
The man looked up and grinned as his name was mentioned. By then we were past him and on our way out of the building. “Whatever you say, Mr. Yates,” he called back. “Night-night.” He raised a hand. Adam had the knack of being popular with everyone. I'd long ago given up being jealous.
He waited for me again on the pavement. We leaned against the wall. “So... would another beer do you good?” he asked dubiously. “Hair of the dog?”
I laughed, as gently as I could, to avoid jolting my throbbing head.
“Hmph... shame. Ah, well,” he said. There was sympathetic laughter in his eyes. He thought for a moment. “Okay. In that case, listen.” He took a deep breath, and stared across the street while he spoke. “You're my friend. You know that. So whatever you say or do, just remember, even when I'm being pompous or insensitive, I care, okay? You're unhappy, and until you're sorted I'm here for you. Whatever it takes, I'll help. Scream and shout at me, fine. Need a chauffeur, fine. Anything. I'll freely admit, I'm not entirely convinced there's a mystery anywhere in this—but I'll help you check it out anyway. Because it's not me who's hurting, and it's not me who needs convincing.”
“Ads—”
He held up a hand. “Friends. Like I said before. It's what they're for. You'd do the same.” He grinned shyly. “At least, after all these years, I bloody well hope you would.”
He knew I would—and I knew he would, too. In any other circumstances I wouldn't have needed his reassurances that he cared, but until the day before, I'd have sworn Verity would come to me if anything was troubling her. Today was different. Today I was vulnerable. Today was a good day to be reminded that I was not alone.
“Sure about that beer?” Adam urged. “Do you good.”
“Best go home,” I muttered. “But thanks. Seriously, Ads.”
He smiled. And for that brief moment, I could almost have believed in the future. Almost.
CHAPTER 7
“AH, COME ON, Verity.”
She lowered her head and looked sideways at me through her fringe. “I'm not coming, no.”
I was excited to be off. I was scampering about in the alley down the side of the house, restlessly tapping the wall with my foot, swivelling and tapping the fence, pacing back to tap the wall. It had taken me less than a week to decide I would show her the treehouse, but I did not want to tell her
“That bad, huh?” Adam tutted. “Come on, let's get you out of here.” He strode out of the office, waited for me to emerge, and then locked up and marched off. He paused when he spotted that I was having trouble keeping up. My head was beating with every step. I reached him, and he set off again, more slowly.
“Adam, don't say you're an idiot,” I said. “If anyone's an idiot, it's me. Actually, I came to apologise.”
“Hmm?” Adam spotted someone he knew and waved at them. “What on earth for?”
“Last night. I was pissed off. When you kept saying the whole thing was just normal. I mean, I know that's what the police thought, but I didn't want to hear it from you. I was upset. I never even thanked you for taking the day off to go down there with me.”
Adam stopped again and looked at me silently. He chuckled. “Harry, you're too polite, that's your problem. I'm a politician, remember? My hide is the envy of rhinos everywhere.” He was lying, of course, but I knew from past experience that there was no point in pressing it. He steered me down the halls of regional government towards the world outside.
“It should be me apologising,” he said. “A day like that, and there's me trying to get you to think about her as though she was a complete stranger. You'd've had every right to give me a bloody nose.” He pointed towards a flight of stairs, and we clattered down them towards the marbled lobby. “Isn't that true, Malcolm?” he called to the security man in the lobby. “Politicians. Insensitive. Talk too much, never pay attention.”
The man looked up and grinned as his name was mentioned. By then we were past him and on our way out of the building. “Whatever you say, Mr. Yates,” he called back. “Night-night.” He raised a hand. Adam had the knack of being popular with everyone. I'd long ago given up being jealous.
He waited for me again on the pavement. We leaned against the wall. “So... would another beer do you good?” he asked dubiously. “Hair of the dog?”
I laughed, as gently as I could, to avoid jolting my throbbing head.
“Hmph... shame. Ah, well,” he said. There was sympathetic laughter in his eyes. He thought for a moment. “Okay. In that case, listen.” He took a deep breath, and stared across the street while he spoke. “You're my friend. You know that. So whatever you say or do, just remember, even when I'm being pompous or insensitive, I care, okay? You're unhappy, and until you're sorted I'm here for you. Whatever it takes, I'll help. Scream and shout at me, fine. Need a chauffeur, fine. Anything. I'll freely admit, I'm not entirely convinced there's a mystery anywhere in this—but I'll help you check it out anyway. Because it's not me who's hurting, and it's not me who needs convincing.”
“Ads—”
He held up a hand. “Friends. Like I said before. It's what they're for. You'd do the same.” He grinned shyly. “At least, after all these years, I bloody well hope you would.”
He knew I would—and I knew he would, too. In any other circumstances I wouldn't have needed his reassurances that he cared, but until the day before, I'd have sworn Verity would come to me if anything was troubling her. Today was different. Today I was vulnerable. Today was a good day to be reminded that I was not alone.
“Sure about that beer?” Adam urged. “Do you good.”
“Best go home,” I muttered. “But thanks. Seriously, Ads.”
He smiled. And for that brief moment, I could almost have believed in the future. Almost.
CHAPTER 7
“AH, COME ON, Verity.”
She lowered her head and looked sideways at me through her fringe. “I'm not coming, no.”
I was excited to be off. I was scampering about in the alley down the side of the house, restlessly tapping the wall with my foot, swivelling and tapping the fence, pacing back to tap the wall. It had taken me less than a week to decide I would show her the treehouse, but I did not want to tell her
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