“That’s because it was one of your more ridiculous ones.”
“Oneof them? That makes it sound like I have many.”
“You do.”
Jonas steps forward and pats my hand. “Robbie is no longer connected to the agency. I’m afraid the police will want a statement from you.”
“Oh, tidings of great joy.”
“Later,” Reuben says. “They’re not getting in here until I say so.”
“Are you the chief of the Met Police in your spare time?” Pip asks.
I try not to laugh. “Okay,” I say. “So you’ve sacked Robbie, and I’m fine. Why all the long faces?”
“Because you might not have been,” Jonas says simply.
Reuben sighs and lowers himself into the bedside chair. He immediately takes my hand again and squeezes it.
“You haven’t been yourself for a while,” Jonas continues.
“What does that mean? Who else have I been? Ryan Reynolds?”
“How lovely that flippancy is making a return,” Reuben observes.
Jonas takes a deep breath. His eyes are kind, but he straightens his shoulders as if he’s steeling himself.
My heart sinks. “Are you sacking me too?” I whisper.
His face softens. “Of course not, but I am requesting that you take a leave of absence.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re off work.”
“For how long?” The question comes out too loudly, and Reuben squeezes my hand again.
“Long enough to get sorted,” Jonas says steadily.
“And what doesthatmean?”
Jonas glances at Pip, and Pip approaches the bed, with a kind, steady gaze that’s completely without judgement. “You’ve been out of control this year,” he says.
I open my mouth to argue but decide against it when he raises his eyebrows. How does someone so slight scare me?
“Robbie may have given you something,” Pip says. “But you have to admit that lately, it’s also something you might have done of your own choice.”
I sneak a look at Reuben, but he’s staring down at our joined hands as if they hold the answers to the mysteries of the world.
“You’re forgetting jobs,” Pip continues. “You’ve been turning up late, and it’s as if you’re careening off the tracks while I have to stand by and watch, and I can’t have that. You mean too much to me.”
I’m unexpectedly touched. I knew he liked me, but I can count on one hand the number of people who really give a shit about me. This feels like something a friend would say. Not a booker.
As if reading my mind, he says, “You’re my friend, yes?” I nod. “Well, friends tell each other the truth, and Xavier Quaver, I’m terrified I’m going to lose you if you go on like this.”
He falters, and Jonas steps in. “We’d like you to take a couple of months off.”
“What?”
