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I walk into the building where Paul Carr has his offices and head straight to the reception desk.
“I’d like to speak to Mr. Carr, please.”
A young man a few years older than me looks up.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“Can I suggest you make one?”
“No. I need to see him now.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.”
“Can you tell him that Amelie Lamont is here to see him, please? I think he’ll want to speak to me.”
He sighs under his breath, picks up the phone, and presses a button.
I move away from the desk, trying to calm myself. I could have—should have—called first. But I was afraid that Paul would suggest speaking over the phone and I want to see him face-to-face so that I can gauge how much he knows. He’s the only person left who can help me.
“Amelie, how lovely to see you.” Paul is standing in front of me. “Would you like to come through?”
I follow him into his office, already apologizing. “I should have called first,” I say.
He smiles. “It’s not a problem.” He indicates two leather armchairs set in front of a low table. “I’ve arranged for Ben to bring coffee. How are you?”
I’m saved from answering by the coffee arriving. Paul serves us both, then sits back in his chair.
“How can I help?” he asks.
“I don’t even know if you can,” I say.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”
I realize then, that he can’t know what happened to me, because if he did, he wouldn’t ask such a question. And if he doesn’t know what happened to me, how can he help?
I can’t stop the tears of hopelessness that spring to my eyes. “When we first met, something had happened to me, something bad, and I can’t move on. I’ve been trying to block it out, tell myself I’m fine. But I’m not, and I’m scared that I never will be. There are things I need to know but there’s no one to give me the answers and it’s really hard. I’m twenty, and I feel so old. I’ve seen things that keep me awake at night, done things that keep me awake at night. I feel as if I’ve been used as a pawn in some game…” I stop, worried that I’ve said too much, and wipe my eyes on the sleeve of my sweater. “I went to the memorial service for Justine and Lina, and I saw someone there who I thought might be able to help me. But he pretended that he didn’t know what I was talking about, he preferred to make me think I was crazy.” I look at him and see the tail end of something on his face, something I recognize as anger. “You knew, didn’t you?” I say, resigned. “You knew that I went to the memorial service.”
I expect him to reprimand me, ask me why I disobeyed his orders. But he gets to his feet and walks to the window and stands with his back to me, looking out. My heart sinks even further. This is going to be harder than I thought.
“May I ask if you have any plans?” he asks, and I feel a small spark of triumph, that I spooked Carl when I told him I was coming for Lukas.
“I’m actually thinking of taking a vacation,” I say, because if Paul is going to relay this conversation back to Carl, I might as well see how much I can push him.
Paul turns from the window. “Really?”
“Yes. I have the time and the money, and I’m at a loose end.”
“Where are you thinking of going?”
“I really need to get as far away from here as possible, so I’m thinking New Zealand.”
His expression doesn’t change but a stillness comes over him and I wait for him to tell me that I can’t go to New Zealand, and steer me to a more exotic location on the pretext that I need a proper rest.
“I think that’s a very good idea,” he says.
I stare at him. “You do?”
