Helen turned to go.
“And how are you?”
Helen paused, surprised by Charlie’s question. Her eyes strayed to the newsagent’s across the road and theEvening Newsboard, which promised more revelations about Robert and Marianne. It wasn’t hard to work out why Charlie was asking.
“I don’t know how she does it.”
“Who?”
“Garanita. She knows where I go, what I do. Who I see. She knowseverything. It’s like she’s climbed inside of me and... I don’t know how she does it.”
“A leak in the team?”
“No... this isn’t just about the investigation. It’s about me. Personal stuff. She’s just a ghost following me into every room of my life.”
Helen hated looking lost in front of Charlie, but there was no point in concealing her profound hurt from someone who’d been through hell with her already.
“You’ve beaten worse than her. You mustn’t let her win.”
Helen nodded. She knew Charlie was right, but it was hard to be optimistic when she was so badly on the back foot.
“She’s a worm,” Charlie continued. “She’s not worthy to stand on the same street as you. Whatever she’s got, you’re Helen Grace. You’re a hero. No one will ever be able to destroy that. I believe in you and so should you.”
Helen looked up, grateful for Charlie’s support.
“As for Emilia Garanita,” Charlie continued, “she’ll get hers soon enough. Her sort always do.”
Charlie smiled and Helen responded. Shortly after, the two women parted.
Walking back to the station, Helen was momentarily buoyed up—pleased to have received a pep talk from a woman she had tried so hard to push away. Reaching the atrium, she realized that her phone had been switched off since the news of Robert’s identity had broken. When she turned it back on, a host of voice mail messages sprang up and with them the text from Robert.
It read simply:Fuck you.
99
It was late when Charlie got home. The clock read eleven fifteen p.m. and the house was quiet. There was no sign of—
“Hello.”
Charlie jumped out of her skin as Steve’s voice rang out. She turned to find him sitting in darkness in the living room. She crossed the room, flicking on the lights. He frowned, offended by the harsh glare of the halogen.
“I’ve been waiting for you for hours, but I guess you were working late.”
His tone was neutral and there was none of the bitterness Charlie had been expecting. Still, his even tone unnerved her. He sounded businesslike.
“Where have you been?” she asked. She felt that something momentous—something bad?—was about to be said, but she was still so relieved that he had come home.
“At Richard’s.”
His best friend. Charlie had called him when looking for Steve, and he had lied to her. She was not surprised.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And I’ve come to a decision,” Steve continued.
Charlie tensed, saying nothing.
“I want to have a child, Charlie.” Now it was his turn to sound upset. “I want a baby with you more than anything else in the world. But we can’t do that when you’re working like this, putting yourself in harm’s way every day. I can’t go there again. Do you understand?”
Charlie nodded.
