Chapter 132
Onemonth earlier
‘OK then,’ Poe said.
He glanced at the empty stairs. Nervous about walking up them. Other than his friendships with Bradshaw, Flynn and Victoria, he kept people at arm’s length. Didn’t allow anyone to get too close. He had cultivated a solitary existence, which, while occasionally lonely, was refreshingly uncomplicated. But then Bradshaw had entered his life. Shook it up, as he had hers. The roadblock he had erected was no match for her guileless innocence and unquestioning loyalty. She showed him there was another way to live. That having friends was OK. That relying on others was OK. That beinghappywas OK.
And now Estelle Doyle was upstairs, waiting. A beautiful woman, abrilliantwoman. A woman he liked. A woman who seemed to like him.
Perhaps it was OK to climb the stairs. See what happened afterwards.
‘OK then,’ he said again.
He paused halfway and turned back to Edgar.
‘If you hear something, you have my permission to go bloody nuts, mate.’
Edgar whined and thumped his tail on the sofa.
Poe reached the top of the stairs and knocked on the door.
‘It’s your bedroom, Poe,’ Doyle said. Her voice was soft, as if she understood what it had taken for him to get this far. ‘You don’t need to knock.’
He paused a beat then stepped inside.
‘Hello,’ he said.
‘Hello.’
‘I doubt Beck will try anything tonight, but if he does I have a cast-iron skillet downstairs. Bash him over the head with that and it’s game over.’
He knew he was babbling.
‘Poe?’ Doyle said, smiling.
‘Yes?’
‘Shut up.’