“You never told me you puked on Krishnan Varma-Rajan,” I said.
Ludo pulled his hands away from mine and sat up straight, hands clutched to his chest, like a prairie dog holding a handbag.
“How the hell do you know about that?”
“I have my sources.” I was playing it cool.
“No, tell me, because Krishnan made everyone in the room sign an NDA.”
Ludo seemed genuinely upset, and I sensed this might be no time to play games. The last thing I wanted was to upset him. Not just because I liked him but because weneededto be able to work together on this story.
“Can I trust you?” I asked.
“You know you can. I didn’t tell you because, one, I’d signed an NDA, and two, would you tell someone you’re sweet on a story like that? When was I meant to tell you? On the helicopter trip while you were chundering your guts up? This morning while your face was buried in my crotch?”
I squeezed Ludo’s hands.
“You’re sweet on me? How long have you been sweet on me?”
“Stop deflecting,” he said. The waitress returned, plonking our mugs of coffee down in front of us.
“Food won’t be a minute, boys,” she said. We chirped thank yous like hungry nestlings.
“Come on, tell me who told you,” Ludo said.
“My mate Petey is a producer onWake Up Britain.”
“You’re friends withMade in Dagenham?”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He sighed heavily, like the air in the bottom of his lungs had somewhere else it needed to be. “Well, thank you for not telling theBulletin’s infamous gossip columnists about it, at least.”
“Are we agreed on the ground rules, then?” I asked.
“Agreed.” Ludo squeezed my hand.
“Still feeling nervous? Flustered?”
“No,” he said, smiling. “I’m excited for what’s to come.”
The waitress appeared beside the table.
“Two full English, one with black pudding, one without but with an extra sausage.”
I indicated the extra sausage was mine, and Ludo raised a finger in ownership of the black pudding. Was I meant to kiss him after he’d eaten that? His plate connected with the table, and Ludo raised his eyebrows.
“Enjoy, boys,” the waitress said, disappearing inside.
“This is alotof food,” Ludo said.
I reached for the red sauce.
“This’ll set you up for the day,” I said.
As we ate, normal, happy, talkative Ludo returned. I looked at the stunner sitting across from me, talking about the show he’d seen and the review he had to go home to finish writing. And I thought about the story we’d just agreed to writetogether—against every rule and journalistic instinct—and really hoped that I could trust him.
Chapter38
