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her hands in his. ‘Yeah. I’ll fill you in on the details,’ he said. He needed to get cleaned up. At least that would give him a chance to think. He had no idea how to put it or even where to start. Should he begin with Yawlander and Blackburn? Lytkin’s kidnap of Ethan? Or her letter and Ormandy’s threat to have her arrested? ‘I could do with a shower or maybe a quick dip in the river if I have to. Is there somewhere we can talk, maybe grab something to eat?’

16

38 Hours

Dodging between the two fireside chairs, Helix got as close as possible to the wood burner without setting fire to the heavy woollen poncho Gabrielle had given him. Warming his hands against the fire, he could see what she meant about nobody hogging the showers in winter. Still, as freezing as it was, it was preferable to the river and he no longer smelled like the gents toilet at the end of a department bender.

The craftsmanship used to construct the building was impressive; the low shingled roof, the wattle and daub walls and hardwood flooring. Interior design wasn’t his thing but it looked adequate, comfortable and cosy. Heavy beeswax candles cast dancing shadows across a collection of children’s books that lay on a small table. Were they Eve’s books, the ones that Gabrielle had kept on the bottom shelf of the bookcase in the Observatory?

An unfinished letter, the handwriting familiar, lay beneath one of the books. It was the same paper she’d used for the letter she’d sent before leaving London, although less creased, less cherished. Foreboding flooded over him, the same letter now in the Home Secretary’s possession.

He started to read just as Gabrielle blew through the door on a hefty breeze and a flurry of snow. ‘Wind’s picking up and the snow’s getting heavier,’ she said, leaning back against the door. She slid a dish on the table. ‘It’s not a lot. Cold squirrel, a few potatoes and some bread, but I’ve got some of our local brew to wash it—’ She broke off, her eyes on the letter.

‘Sorry, I wasn’t being—’

‘That’s OK,’ she said, her hand cool on his arm. ‘It was for you anyway. I just hadn’t got around to sending it.’

She wasn’t expecting him to read it in front of her, was she? ‘I meant to write as well, but…’ he said, sliding it back under the book.

‘Shush,’ she said, reaching up and pressing her fingers to his lips.

Her touch stirred him and chased away the chill from the shower. The candlelight imbued her with a glow that glimmered in her eyes as she slung her arms around his neck. He leaned down to meet her, their noses almost touching.

‘The letter says what I’ve wanted to say since that night out at Helix Towers.’

He laughed at the memory.

‘Only this time, I’m not drunk or stoned and even better than that…’ She stepped away and pulled her poncho over her head, dropping it to the floor. He did the same and for a moment stood there looking into her eyes.

Interlacing her fingers with his, she led him to the bed. His anticipation rose with each step. She tossed aside the covers and laid down, her hand smoothing the sheet beside her. She gasped at his titanium touch. He swapped hands, his apology trapped behind his lips as she pressed her fingers to them. Her stomach radiated heat against his cheek as he breathed her in, his nose and lips brushing her smooth pale skin. She unfurled beneath him, her hand urging him on, her fingers folding around him. Fleeting kisses became more urgent, more prolonged as their separate rhythms merged, becoming impatient, frantic, animal.

‘Fifteen-minute update,’ Sofi reported into his ear.

‘Not now,’ he snapped.

‘Jesus, Helix don’t stop!’ Gabrielle gasped.

‘Sorry,’ he said, picking up where he left off while trying to disable the real time feeds from his eye and integrated comms.

Minutes later, in the breathless afterglow, he rolled to Gabrielle’s side. ‘Sorry about that, it’s been a while.’

‘Me too.’ Gabrielle laughed, pulling a cover over them. ‘What did you mean, “Not now”?’

‘Helix clamped his hand over his eyes. ‘It was Sofi.’

Gabrielle propped herself up on her elbow. ‘What about her?’

‘Um, you know how Ethan was, is, able to follow what I’m seeing, hearing, etcetera.’

Gabrielle snapped her hand over her mouth. ‘She wasn’t. When we were—’

‘Only the first minute or so. I switched it off. Nothing to see. Anyway, it’s a bloody machine not a person.’

‘She looks pretty real to me,’ she said, laying her head on his chest. ‘Where did Ethan get her from? Is she one of those mail order models?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘What’s with the big sigh, big man?’ she said.

‘We need to talk.’

‘Can it wait? You know, until after we’ve…’

He stroked her hair from her face. ‘I might need a few minutes.’

‘OK,’ she said, a lop-sided grin on her face. ‘Maybe now would be a good time for you to taste my squirrel.’

Helix pulled on his poncho and checked in with Sofi for the delayed fifteen-minute update. The AI told him of news reports suggesting fresh developments in the death of Valerian Lytkin. Was this Ormandy’s opening salvo hinting at Gabrielle’s involvement in his death? If there was political capital to be made, he was sure Ormandy would be the first to exploit it. At a local level, Sofi reported that the weather had cured the kids of their curiosity and sent them off to the their beds. She was ensconced on a ridge with a good view over the camp and its approaches. They’d agreed she would report only if there was anything of note.

In between mouthfuls of food, he told Gabrielle about Yawlander’s and Blackburn’s murders, his and Ethan’s abductions, Lytkin’s threats and Ormandy’s intention to have Gabrielle arrested for murder. ‘Up shit creek without a paddle as Ethan would put it,’ he said, taking a sip of

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