Part 52 (2/2)

'I shouldn't think he wants to,' Perkin remarked as I hadn't answered in a rush. 'You can't make him.'

An offer I couldn't refuse, Dee-Dee had said; and I'd thought only of money. Instead, he was holding out like a carrot a heart-stopping, headlong plunge into a new dimension of existence.

'Say you will,' Gareth begged.

Here goes impulse again, I thought. To h.e.l.l with the helium balloon, it could wait a bit longer.

'I will.' I looked at Tremayne. 'Thank you.'

He nodded, beaming and satisfied, saying, 'We'll apply for your permit next week.'

We all loaded into the Volvo and went down to Sh.e.l.lerton Manor where everyone trooped in to see Harry. Tired but cheerful he held court from his chair and accepted Mackie's heartfelt kiss with appreciative good humour.

'I'm so glad you're alive,' she said, with a suspicion of tears, and he stroked her arm and said lightly that he was too, on the whole.

'What did it feel like?' Perkin said curiously, glancing at the bandaged leg.

'It happened too fast to feel much,' Harry said, smiling lopsidedly. 'If John hadn't been there I'd have died without knowing it, I dare say.'

'Don't!' Fiona exclaimed. 'I can't bear even to think of it. Tremayne, off you go or you'll be late. John and I will pick up Erica and see you soon.' She swept them out, following them, fearing perhaps that they would add to Harry's fatigue; and he and I looked at each other across the suddenly empty room in a shared fundamental awareness.

'Do you know who did it?' he asked, weariness and perhaps despair returning, stress visible.

I shook my head.

'Couldn't be someone I know.' He meant that he didn't want it to be. 'They meant to kill me, dammit.'

'Dreary thought.'

'I don't want to guess. I try not to. It's pretty awful to know someone hates me enough-' He swallowed. 'That hurts more than my leg.'

'Yes.' I hesitated. 'It was maybe not hate. More like a move in a chess game. And it went wrong, don't forget. The strong presumption of guilt has changed to a stronger presumption of innocence. Entirely and diametrically the wrong result. That can't be bad.'

'I'll hang onto that.'

I nodded. 'Better than a funeral.'

'Anything is.' He dredged up a smile. 'I've got a neighbour coming in to be with me tonight while you're all out. I feel a bit of a coward.'

'Rubbish. Bodyguards make good sense.'

'Do you want a permanent job?'

Fiona returned, pulling on a flurry white wrap over her red silk dress, saying she really didn't want to go to the dinner and being persuaded again by her husband. He would be fine, he said, his friend would be there in a moment and goodbye, have a good time, give Tremayne the evening of his life.

Fiona drove her own car, the twin of Harry's (still lost), and settled Erica Upton in the front beside her when we collected her on a westerly detour. The five-star novelist gave me an unfathomable glimmer when I closed the car door for her and remarked that she'd had a long chat with Harry that afternoon on the telephone.

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