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‘It’s excellent work’ he said smiling. He had been reading the online version of the Jonathon Meyer story. ‘Really, you are a truly gifted writer.’
‘Not as good as Sandrine though.’
‘Perhaps, perhaps not. But that is the tragedy, isn’t it? We’ll never know just how good she might have become.’
Eduardo’s voice caught and he looked down, pressing a finger against his lips. Lara felt for him.
‘You liked her very much didn’t you?’
Eduardo looked up, eyes sparkling.
‘I loved her, Lara. I just didn’t know how much until I found out she was gone. And then my heart felt as if it had broken into pieces.’
Lara reached over and touched his hand. ‘We can’t regret the past.’
‘But we can regret what we didn’t do. I didn’t tell Sandrine how I felt. Perhaps if I had told her, none of this would have happened.’
Lara considered it. If Eduardo had declared his love for Sandrine, would she have fallen for Stefan? Maybe. Maybe not. Lara thought about all the decisions that the main players had made and whether different decisions would have brought about different outcomes. If Helen Groves hadn’t gone out with her camera, would she have discovered the trafficking? If Michael Sachs had simply invested in Jonathon Meyer’s company just because they were friends, then maybe three people – and one very loving cat – would still be alive. Shoulda, woulda, coulda; or maybe those things would have happened anyway. Lara wasn’t a philosopher, she was a journalist.
Movement to her left caught Lara’s eye: Alex coming into the bar, talking on his phone. Lara wondered who he was speaking to. She caught Eduardo watching her, smiling.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘The way you look at him.’
Lara rolled her eyes.
‘Not you too. Alex is an old friend, that’s all. Besides, he has a terrible reputation with women.’
‘I’m sure you’d keep him on his toes.’
‘Eduardo, if I ever decide to settle down it will not be with someone like Alex. I need a foil, a partner, not a boss. Alex is one of those people who always thinks he’s right.’
Eduardo held up both hands in what Lara assumed wa
s the Spanish version of the Gallic shrug: the Latin shrug perhaps?
‘You never answered my question, not really,’ he said.
‘Which question?’
‘How do you feel about joining Le Caché?’
Three weeks previously, Lara wouldn’t have given it a second’s thought. She would have respectfully declined: she worked at the Chronicle, that was what she did, it was who she was. But so much had changed since then: She had changed so much since then. She sighed.
‘I admire what you do, Eduardo, I really do. But I don’t want to be tied down to anyone or anything. In fact, that’s exactly what I just said to Darius back at the office.’
Eduardo couldn’t hide his surprise.
‘You’re leaving the Chronicle?’
‘Something like that. Going solo, setting up my own one-woman Le Caché.’
‘Well, we’d be proud to help you out any way we can,’ said Eduardo. ‘We could make you an honorary member, if you’d prefer that. I think you’ve earned it.’
‘Thank you. I’m touched.’
Lara didn’t want to have to mention the elephant in the room; it was painful for both of them, but it had to be tackled.
