Well. Shit. That puts me in an untenable situation. If the letters are doing the heavy lifting and making Bess enough money to do what needs to happen to protect Port Derrum artists, am I more of an arsehole for depriving her of the opportunity, or less of one for giving her that chance but deceiving her in the process? "That sounds like an excellent problem to have. Is it...going to be enough?"
"Ah, I don't know. It's a great start. I just don't know what the end game's going to be yet. At the very least, I hope it'll buy me a bit of time by covering the extra rental expenses until we come up with a plan."
So. The jury's still out on which end of the scale the arsehole-ry is weighted. "And what's the 'no'?"
“The book the letter was placed inside was about twitching.”
“Ri-ight?”
“I think it might be a clue to use my binoculars to find out who wrote the letters or who’s sending them. I can’t think of any other way a book on watching birds might point me in the right direction. Unless the soldier was a famous twitcher or something.” She looks at me. “Are there famous twitchers?"
“Prince Andrew?”
“Ugh. Too soon, Ed.”
I feel off my game. I so badly want to make her laugh. It’s safe ground. A mutually beneficial exchange without the taint of deceit or pretence.
“If it is a clue to use my binoculars, then it has to be someone who knows I come up here and use them on a regular basis. Which probably also means it’s someone I know.”
Fuck. How did Mistral not think this one through? Everyone in our inner circle knows Bess is a binocular-armed voyeur.
"You didn't send me the letter, did you, Ed?"
"Me?" The laugh that follows my exclamation sounds hollow and decidedly forced to my ears. "Why would I...send you the letter? That's some real crazy talk...right there." Oh God.Shut up.
Bess is already looking back through her binoculars, having clearly discounted me as soon as she said it. "Nah. You wouldn't have it in you to help feed my TikTok channel."
I let out the breath I've been holding with a woosh.
She lowers the binoculars and grabs a pen and notebook from the table between us. "I think I'll make a list of all the residents with houses I can see from here. Just in case."
After thirty seconds of her scribbling, and me sucking on an ice cube, I can't resist the temptation any longer. "You, um, seemed really affected by the writing in those letters."
"Well, yeah," she says distractedly. "How could anyonenotbe?"
I snort out a single laugh, even though what she's said isn't in the least bit funny. "Right?"
Bess adds three more people to the list.
"And what were your favourite bits?"
"When he signed off the first letter withIn the meantime, just this – I love you."
"Yeah, that was pretty moving."
Two more people.
"What about in the second letter?" Oh God, am I pathetic or what?
"I think probably when he saidthe things you say and mean and do to me. That really got me in the feels."
"The things you say and mean and do to me. Got it."
"You got what?" Bess looks up at me. "You planning on sending a love letter to someone?"
"No."
"You are. You are so transparent. You've been fishing for this entire conversation."
