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to tackle Chapel in his office, remember?' And then she gave
him an odd look. 'Vincent was quite worried, though.'
`Don't be funny,' he snapped. For the last ten years, Vincent
had made his feelings towards Barry quite clear; and although
Barry wasn't gay, he wouldn't ever hurt the man's feelings and
had developed a very defensive attitude towards him. 'Vince is
a decent bloke. I'm just not that way inclined.'
`Tell me about it!' she laughed, throwing herself into the
armchair opposite him. 'Still, I know what you mean. It's all
over. Ten years of the ACL support network, and now we're on
our own.'
`Don't remind me.' Barry reached into his suit and plucked
out a cigarette without extracting the packet. A trick he had
learnt over countless years down the pub. `Ashtray?'
Louise reached under the coffee table and retrieved a large
pottery ashtray, which Barry grabbed. He lit the cigarette and
sighed. 'Were you serious about the tagliatelle, or was it a ruse
to get me away from ACL?'
36
`Of course I was.' She reached under the cushion next to
her and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. 'Have you got a
light?'
Barry leaned forward, his face skewed in surprise. 'You
still smoke?' Horrible feelings began to grow in his stomach.
Horrible feelings that he wanted to express, but knew the
trouble that they could cause.
She frowned, obviously trying to decide whether to tell the
truth. Knowing Louise as well as he did, Barry knew that she
would. And she did.
`I never gave up. I just didn't smoke at work. And I never
smoked when you came over.' Her conscience must have got
the better of her. As always.
Barry expressed his feelings, and regretted it even as he
spoke. 'So you kept on smoking while you were carrying
Cassie?'
Louise stood up, the cigarette packet dropping from her lap
and her face announcing that this was the last thing she wanted
to hear, today of all days. 'Yes,' she muttered. 'I know it was
wrong, I know I should have given up. But the doctors
explained that her, her problems were environmental. Okay,
the smoking didn't help. But it wasn't the reason.' She pointed
out of the window at the light smog that hung over London like
a comfortably lethal blanket. 'That caused it, not cigarettes, not
anything else but that poison out there!' She started trembling,
and Barry jumped up and hugged her. But he looked back
through the window at the view: through the green clouds, he
could just about make out the ziggurat of the Millennium Hall,
the ugly shape which blighted the once perfect view from
Louise's house.
`Come on, Lou,' he whispered, stroking her back, 'I wasn't
accusing you. I just wondered why you hadn't told me.'
Realizing that this was one conversation that neither he nor
Louise wanted to get into, he pointed towards the kitchen,
which led off the hall. 'Shall I start cooking?'
She nodded, although the confession had clearly shaken
her. As Barry reached the doorway, he stopped and frowned.
'What about the ingredients?' Louise wasn't known for keeping
her larder fully stocked, and he had lost count of the dinner
37
invitations which had ended up as a lash-up of lentils and the
odd onion which they had found languishing at the bottom of
the fridge.
Almost back to her normal, happy-go-lucky self, she
giggled. 'I applied a bit of amateur psychology. I guessed that
you'd be upset today, and I knew that letting you cook would
bring you out of it. So I went to Safeway's yesterday and
bought everything you need. It's all in bags on the table.' And
then, as if she'd read his mind, 'So no need to go rooting
through the crisper for a mouldy onion.'
Barry laughed. 'Great. And I've got quite a dessert lined up.'
He pointed towards his silver carrier bag, plonked in the corner
next to the television. `A little bonus from Ashley Chapel
Logistics.'
`And then she gave me the protocols that I'd need to get
into this Codex project ' Since arriving at La Bella Donna,
Mel had rattled off her story like a red-headed machine gun,
sparing only a second to say hello to Anne and to order a light
salad. The Doctor had been right when he'd said that Melanie
Bush was nothing like Victoria; that demure woman wouldn't
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