Believing the Lie - Elizabeth George [103]
From this, she took up a single strand. She said, “Why do you need this?”
“A break? You? This, here in bed?” His smile, then, and, “I’d hope you wouldn’t have to ask that last question.”
“Your father,” she said. “Why must you get into his good graces?”
When he answered, his voice showed his surprise. “Because I made his life hell for years. My mother’s as well.”
“You cannot rewrite the past, Nicky.”
“But I can make amends for it. I took years off their lives, and I want to give those years back to them if I can. Wouldn’t you want the same in my position?”
“Life,” she said, “is meant to be lived by the individual living it, being true to himself. What you’re doing is living your life in order to be true to someone else’s perception of you.”
He’d blinked and an expression of hurt touched his features and then dissipated as quickly as it had come upon him. He said, “We’ll have to agree to disagree on this. And you’ll have to wait and see how things turn out, how they change for me, for you, and for the family.”
She’d said, “Your family— ”
And he’d cut in with, “I don’t mean my family. I mean our family. Yours and mine. The family we make. Things are going to continue to get better from this point on. You’ll see.”
In the morning, she’d tried again, but this time it was with a diversion and not with a frontal attack. She’d said, “Don’t go to work today. Stay with me, stay here, don’t go to the tower.”
His reply of, “That’s a very tempting proposition,” had given her hope for an instant but he went on to say, “I must go into work, though, Allie. I’ve taken a day off already.”
“Nicky, you’re the son of the owner. If you can’t take a day off— ”
“I’m a line operator in the shipping department. Someday I might be the son of the owner again. But I’m not there yet.”
They were, thus, back to where they started. Alatea knew that this was the point of departure for them. He believed he had to prove himself in order to make amends for his past. In this manner he would pave a way to the future through illustrating over and over again that he was not who he once had been. While she understood this, it was not how she lived. Indeed, living in the way Nicholas was choosing to live was impossible for her.
And now there was the matter of Query Productions and the fact that it did not exist. This meant only one thing: that the presence of the photographer here in Cumbria had nothing at all to do with the work Nicholas was doing, nothing at all to do with what he was attempting to create with the Middlebarrow Pele Project, and nothing at all to do with any intention he had with regard to his parents and to transforming his life. That left only one explanation as far as she could see for the photographer’s presence. What Do You Want Photographed? said it all.
Alatea’s descent from the top of Arnside Knot took more time than the ascent had done. The patches of limestone scree were slick after the rain. Slipping upon the loose stones, falling, and tumbling down the slope were distinct possibilities. So was sliding upon the fallen leaves from the lime and chestnut trees that formed a copse lower down the hill. So safety was foremost in her mind as she made her way home in the fast-fading daylight. Safety, too, took her to the telephone soon after she walked into Arnside House.
She always kept the phone number with her. This had been the case since the very first time she’d made the call. She didn’t want to do what she had to do, but she couldn’t see any other choice available. She took out the card, managed a few deep breaths, punched in the numbers, and waited for the connection to go through. When it did, she asked the only question that mattered to her now.
“I don’t mean to pressure you, but I do need to know. Have you considered my offer?”
“I have,” the quiet voice replied.
“And?”
“Let’s meet to talk it over.”
“This means?”
“You’re completely serious about the money?”
“Yes, yes. Of course I’m serious.”
“Then I think I can do what you’re asking.”
MILNTHORPE
CUMBRIA
Lynley tracked them down having