Believing the Lie - Elizabeth George [129]
She stormed in the direction of a line of cars parked on the north side of the square. Nicholas took a moment, head down and obviously pondering, before he came back in Deborah’s direction.
He said, “Sorry. Family matter.”
“Ah,” she replied. “She’s a relative, then?”
“My cousin’s wife. He drowned recently. She’s having trouble… well, coping with the loss. And there’re children involved.”
“I’m sorry. Should we…?” She gestured towards the café to which they’d been headed, saying, “Would another time be better for you?”
“Oh no,” he said. “I want to talk to you anyway. The bit about Barrow? To tell you the truth, it was something of an excuse to see you.”
Deborah knew he certainly wasn’t referring to a desire to be with her in order to experience her charms, so she prepared herself mentally for what was to come. Since he’d rung her and requested a meeting, she’d first assumed Alatea hadn’t told him the truth about their encounter. That, perhaps, had not been the case.
She said, “Of course,” and followed him to the café. She ordered coffee and a toasted tea cake and attempted to seem completely at ease.
He didn’t bring up Alatea until they’d been served. Then what he said was, “I don’t know how to put this, exactly, so I’ll have to say it directly. You need to stay away from my wife if this documentary thing is going to work out. The filmmakers will have to know that as well.”
Deborah did her best to look startled: an innocent woman completely unprepared for this turn of events. She said, “Your wife?” and then, with an attempt at dawning recognition and regret, “I upset her yesterday, and she told you about it, didn’t she? I was rather hoping she wouldn’t, frankly. I’m so terribly sorry, Mr. Fairclough. It was unintentional on my part. Rather emotionally clumsy, to be frank. It was the magazine that did it, wasn’t it?”
To her surprise, he said rather sharply, “What magazine?”
Odd reaction, she thought. “Conception,” she said. What she wanted to add was, Is there another magazine I should be looking into? but of course she did not. She thought feverishly back to the other periodicals that had been on the table along with Conception. She couldn’t remember what they were, so interested had she been in that single one.
He said, “Oh. That. Conception. No, no. That’s not… Never mind.”
Which she could hardly do. She opted for a direct approach and said, “Mr. Fairclough, is something wrong? Is there something you’d like to tell me? Something you’d like to ask me? Is there some kind of reassurance I can give you…?”
He fingered the handle of his coffee cup. He sighed and said, “There are things Alatea doesn’t want to talk about, and her past is one of them. I know you’re not here to delve into her background or anything but that’s what she’s afraid of: that you might start delving.”
“I see,” Deborah said. “Well, this isn’t an investigative documentary, other than as it relates to the pele project. Certain issues about you yourself might come up… Are you certain she’s not just worried about how the film might affect you? Your reputation? Your standing in the community?”
He laughed self-derisively. “I did enough damage to myself when I was using. No film could damage me further. No, it’s to do with what Alatea did to get by before she and I met. It’s stupid, frankly, for her to be so upset about it. It’s nothing. I mean, it’s not like she made porn films or something.”
Deborah nodded gravely. She kept her face sympathetic but said nothing. Surely, she thought, he was on the verge… the cusp… the cliff’s edge… Just the tiniest nudge might push him over.
She finally said thoughtfully, “You two met in Utah, didn’t you? I went to college for a while in America. In Santa Barbara. Do you know the town? It’s expensive there and I… Well, funds were low and there are always easy ways to make money…” She let him fill in the blanks for himself, with whatever his imagination might provide. The truth was she’d done nothing but go to photography school, but there was no way on earth he would know