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
‘Because we’re not like that, Mitch. Not down here. And because Enora says you’re the best. An endorsement like that, what choice does a girl have?’
It’s a bravura performance on Beth’s part, and she gives him a lingering hug before she steps out into the hall. I go with her, opening the front door and standing aside. I tell her that giving Mitch the inside lane will best safeguard Christianne’s interests, as well as protecting the heart of the story from the grubby fingers of the tabloid press.
Beth nods. She couldn’t agree more.
‘Exciting times.’ She nods towards the lounge. ‘And a lovely guy, too.’
I smile, agree, and then plant a kiss on her cheek. An image of vagina-scented candles has drifted into my mind, but I do my best to resist it.
‘He’s gay, my love. Nice try, though.’
THIRTY-ONE
Bitch, bitch. Me, not Beth.
I sleep, once again, like a baby, not because I’m especially proud of my little doorstep adieu, but because I know full well that Beth will dismiss it. One of her true strengths, I’ve realized, is the sheer thickness of her skin. She has a gift for total focus: on the next big thing, and then the one that might – fingers crossed – follow after that. Once engaged with whatever it might be, nothing can distract her, least of all anything that little me might have to say. That kind of certainty, that total commitment, is a huge asset when it comes to any kind of cause and just now I realize we’re very, very lucky to have her. Today, with luck, Mitch and I will be largely alone. Thanks to Nathan, we’ll float over East Devon and descend on the scene of the crime to give him the photos he wants. After that, Beth will doubtless take over, but for now I have Mitch to myself.
Wrong. By the time we finally make it to the airfield at Dunkeswell, Nathan has already arrived. I recognize his Mercedes parked beside a pert little aeroplane with a red stripe down the side. He has one of the covers up on the aircraft’s nose, and he’s pouring oil into a plastic spout that disappears into the engine. The sky-blue overalls rather suit him. With a leather helmet, and perhaps a silk scarf, he could audition for any number of movies.
I join him beside the nose of the aircraft and give him a kiss once he’s put the oil can down. I tell him we’re really grateful for the flight and insist on helping out with the costs. The offer seems to amuse him.
‘This is the least I can do,’ he says. ‘I gather there’s a crusade in the making.’