Chapters (49)
- Cover
- Table of Contents
- Also by Graham Hurley
- LIMELIGHT
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- AFTERWARDS
‘I don’t know yet, but I’m well placed, believe me. We’re a tight little community. When the call comes, we rally round. Would a literary festival be good? It happens. Might we do something similar on the music side? No problem. Last year we got that amazing young cellist, Sheku Kanneh-Mason. Can you believe that? Sleepy little Budleigh Salterton? So, stuff happens, not by accident but because we make it happen. It’s going to be the same with Christianne, with MND. The will of the people, isn’t that the phrase?’
Mitch is nodding. He’s abandoned his sock.
‘You’re thinking some kind of public showing? For that footage?’
‘Of course.’
‘And copyright?’
‘No problem.’
‘How come?’
‘Listen, Mitch.’ Beth’s on fire now, I’ve seen her this way before. Her eyes are alive, there’s a blush of colour in her face, and she’s bent forward on the sofa, offering Mitch a perfect view of what my mum would call her embonpoint. ‘I emailed the Palo Alto people as soon as I saw the footage. One of their stakeholders came back to me about an hour ago. I didn’t even have to explain about last Thursday and the cliff fall and Christianne and everything because she’d seen the pictures already. I told her we’d like to spread the word, seed a campaign, and that those pictures of Adam might be key. Adam is dead now but she’s going to contact the family and get back to me. I said we’d be taking a collection locally if we’re allowed to use the footage and send her the proceeds. She thought that was neat.’
‘Campaign for what?’
‘Mercy killings. Euthanasia. That’s where it begins and ends, Mitch. That’s the opportunity we’re staring in the face.’
‘Thanks to Christianne?’
‘Of course. And you.’
‘Me?’
‘Yeah. For two reasons. Number one, the link you found. Number two, that wonderful piece you’re going to write.’
‘About?’
‘Us. Chris. MND. And Budleigh bloody Salterton. This is going to be a turning point, Mitch, in that whole fucking debate. And you guys in the media are still the ones who write the first draft of history. Isn’t that the truth?’
She sits back at last, feigning exhaustion, but I can see that Mitch is impressed. I suspect what he needs is a lock on this story, a way of making it his very own, and in the shape of Beth he appears to have exactly that.
‘And I get exclusive rights?’ he murmurs. ‘Is that what I’m hearing?’
Beth nods. In these situations, as I’m beginning to recognize, she’s never less than impulsive.
‘Yours,’ she says.
‘Why? Why not look further? Why not sell those rights? You’ve got the mainstream rat pack all over you. Why not have a conversation or two? Earn yourselves a big fat cheque?’