Lie down with lions - Ken Follett [5]
He wanted it too, of course; he wanted to marry her and live with her for the rest of his life. But he had to wait until this assignment was over; and he could not tell her that, so he said such things as I’m not ready and All I need is time, and these vague evasions infuriated her. It seemed to her that a year was a long time to love a man without getting any kind of commitment from him. She was right, of course. But if all went well today he could make everything right.
He finished shaving, wrapped his razor in a towel and put it in his drawer. Jane got out of the shower and he took her place. We’re not talking, he thought; this is silly.
While he was in the shower she made coffee. He dressed quickly in faded denim jeans and a black T-shirt and sat opposite her at the little mahogany table. She poured his coffee and said: “I want to have a serious talk with you.”
“Okay,” he said quickly, “let’s do it at lunchtime.”
“Why not now?”
“I don’t have time.”
“Is Rahmi’s birthday more important than our relationship?”
“Of course not.” Ellis heard irritation in his tone, and a warning voice told him. Be gentle—you could lose her. “But I promised, and it’s important that I keep my promises; whereas it doesn’t seem very important whether we have this conversation now or later.”
Jane’s face took on a set, stubborn look that he knew: she wore it when she had made a decision and someone tried to deflect her from her path. “It’s important to me that we talk now.”
For a moment he was tempted to tell her the whole truth right away. But this was not the way he had planned it. He was short of time, his mind was on something else, and he was not prepared. It would be much better later, when they were both relaxed, and he would be able to tell her that his job in Paris was done. So he said: “I think you’re being silly, and I won’t be bullied. Please let’s talk later. I have to go now.” He stood up.
As he walked to the door she said: “Jean-Pierre has asked me to go to Afghanistan with him.”
This was so completely unexpected that Ellis had to think for a moment before he could take it in. “Are you serious?” he said incredulously.
“I’m serious.”
Ellis knew Jean-Pierre was in love with Jane. So were half a dozen other men: that kind of thing was inevitable with such a woman. None of the men were serious rivals, though; at least, he had thought not, until this moment. He began to recover his composure. He said: “Why would you want to visit a war zone with a wimp?”
“It’s not a joking matter!” she said fiercely. “I’m talking about my life.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “You can’t go to Afghanistan.”
“Why not?”
“Because you love me.”
“That doesn’t put me at your disposal.”
At least she had not said No, I don’t. He looked at his watch. This was ridiculous: in a few hours’ time he was going to tell her everything she wanted to hear. “I’m not willing to do this,” he said. “We’re talking about our future, and it’s a discussion that can’t be rushed.”
“I won’t wait forever,” she said.
“I’m not asking you to wait forever. I’m asking you to wait a few hours.” He touched her cheek. “Let’s not fight about a few hours.”
She stood up and kissed his mouth hard.
He said: “You won’t go to Afghanistan, will you?”
“I don’t know,” she said levelly.
He tried a grin. “At least, not before lunch.”
She smiled back and nodded. “Not before lunch.”
He looked at her for a moment longer; then he went out.
The broad boulevards of the Champs-Élysées were thronged with tourists and Parisians out for a morning stroll, milling about like sheep in a fold under the warm spring sun, and all the pavement cafés were full. Ellis stood near the appointed place, carrying a backpack he had bought in a cheap luggage store. He looked like an American on a hitchhiking tour of Europe.
He wished Jane had not chosen this morning for a confrontation: she would be brooding now, and would be in a jagged mood by the time he arrived.
Well, he would just have to smooth her ruffled feathers for a while.
He put Jane