'Yes?'
'A bunch of the boys are getting together on Tuesday at the Red Hat. Do you want to come along?'
'I don't know. There's a lot going on at home.'
'Oh, come on. It'll be good for you.'
He was probably right. 'OK,' I said. 'I'll be there.'
But as we turned and headed for home, one other worry nagged me all the way back to the boathouse. Would Lisa tell Henry Chan about the BioOne take-over? Although I'd told her it was confidential, she hadn't acknowledged me. But I could trust Lisa. Couldn't I?
She arrived home at about five, looking exhausted.
'Hi, Simon.' She smiled and kissed me.
'Hi. How are you?'
'Tired. Very tired.' She took off her coat, and threw herself on to the sofa. She closed her eyes for a moment.
'I brought you some flowers.' I went into the kitchen and brought out some irises I had picked up on the way back from the river. She liked irises.
'Thank you,' she said, giving me a quick kiss. She disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with the flowers arranged in a tall vase, which she placed on her desk. 'Simon?'
'Yes?'
'I'm sorry I was so horrible to you yesterday.'
'That's OK.'
'No, it's not. I don't want us to become one of those snappy couples. I don't know why I did it, but I'm sorry.'
'You're under a lot of pressure,' I said. 'I understand.'
'I guess that must be it.' She sighed. 'I just feel hollow inside, like I'm empty. And then suddenly something seems to boil up somewhere in here,' she put her hand on her chest, 'and I feel like I want to shout and scream, or else just cry and cry. I have to work really hard to keep it all in. I've never felt like this before.'
'Something like this has never happened to you before,' I said. 'And I hope it won't happen again.'
She smiled up at me. 'Will you forgive me?'
'Of course.'
She looked at her watch. 'If we go now, do you think we might get into Olive's?'
I smiled. 'We could try'
'Come on, then.'
Olive's was an Italian restaurant in Charlestown. It didn't take reservations, but we made it before the six o'clock rush, and were seated at a corner of one of the large wooden tables. As always, it was crowded, with lots of noise, warmth and excellent food.
We ordered, and surveyed the commotion around us.
'Remember the first time we came here?' said Lisa.
'Of course I do.'
'Do you remember how much we talked? They kept on trying to throw us out, so they could give the table to someone else, and we wouldn't go.'
'I do. And we missed the first half of that Truffaut film.'
'Which was crap anyway.'
I laughed. 'I'm glad you admit that now!'
I suddenly realized Lisa was staring at me. 'I'm so glad I met you,' she said.
It was the right thing to say. I smiled at her. 'And I'm really glad I met you.'
'You're nuts,' she said.
'No I'm not. You've done so much for me since we've been together.'
'Like what?'
'Oh, I don't know. You've pulled me out of myself, encouraged me to show my feelings, made me happy.'
'You were a tight-assed Brit when I met you,' she conceded.
It was true. And to some extent I probably still was. But Lisa had helped me escape from my old life in England, from parents who hated each other and wanted me out of the way, and from the ever-present traditions of Marlborough, Cambridge and the Life Guards, with their inescapable rules of how you should behave, how you should think, how you should feel.
'And I'm really sorry I've been such a pain,' she said.
'Forget it. You've had a really bad week.'
'It's funny. It sort of comes in waves. Thinking about Dad. One moment I'm fine and the next I feel awful. Like right now I…' She paused, and a tear ran down her cheek. She tried to smile. 'I was going to say I feel fine now, but look at me.' She sniffed. 'I'm sorry, Simon. I'm just a mess.'
I reached over and touched her hand. Despite the crowd, no one seemed to notice Lisa's distress. There was something about the barrage of noise in the restaurant that seemed to create walls around us, giving us our own little space of privacy.
She blew her nose, and the tears stopped. 'I wonder who killed him,' she said.
'Some burglar, probably. The house is pretty isolated. Maybe he thought he could get away with it in broad daylight and Frank surprised him.'
'I guess the police haven't got anywhere yet, or we'd have heard.'
'Oh, I didn't get a chance to tell you. Sergeant Mahoney came to see me a couple of days ago at the office.'
'What did he say?'
'He just asked me some questions about where I went after I left your father. Apparently your father spoke to John on the phone when I was walking on the beach. Mahoney wanted to try to confirm I was where I said I was.'
'Could you?'
'He hasn't found anyone who saw me. But I didn't get the impression he had made much progress in any direction. I think I'm still his number-one suspect.'
'Oh, Simon.' She squeezed my hand.
'Did you tell him about Helen's legal case?'
'Yes, I did. Why? Did he ask you about it?'
'Yes. He implied that it was convenient Frank had died, that now we can afford to fight the appeal. It makes me sick just thinking about it.'
'I'm sorry, Simon. He asked about money and whether we'd had any financial disagreements with Dad. I thought I should tell him the truth.'
I smiled at her. 'That's OK. I suspect it is best to tell the truth. Otherwise he'll catch us out, and it'll be even worse.'
'Don't worry, Simon. They haven't got any evidence.'
'Not hard evidence, no,' I said. 'But I have to admit, I am a bit worried.' The waiter brought a bottle of Chianti, and I poured us both a glass. 'Mahoney definitely has his sights on me. I wonder if it's because I'm British. Or rather because I served in Northern Ireland.'
'What do you mean?'
'He asked whether I had ever killed anyone. I said I had, in Ireland.'
Lisa shrugged. 'It's possible. He's obviously Irish. And even after the peace agreement, there must still be some strong pro-IRA feelings in this town.'
I sighed.
Lisa stole me a quick glance. 'Eddie thinks you did it.'
'No!' I was about to mutter something about what I thought of Eddie, and stopped myself just in time. In Lisa's eyes, Eddie could do no wrong. She had probably been reluctant to admit his suspicions to me. 'Well, he's wrong, isn't he?'
'Yes,' said Lisa. 'I know he is.' She looked at me, embarrassed. 'But I have to say in my darkest moments these
