Page 39 of Smoke & Ashes
She looked up at me from the sofa. She didn’t have a hair out of place. “Did I do something wrong?” Her eyes were wide and confused and imploring. “Am I insufficient?”
Jesus fucking Christ this was the last thing I needed. “Shit, no. You’re—you’re more than sufficient, you’re—honestly you’re out of my league and you’re out of your ex’s league as well, if you want my opinion. But that whole”—shit I was bad at this—“okay, sit down. I’ll explain.”
“I’m already sitting down.”
“Fair point.” I sat beside her and took her hand. “I think what I’m trying to say is stay sitting and don’t offer yourself to me sexually again, because I’m not sure I could take it.”
“I did not mean to displease you.”
I squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back in a way that felt more natural than it had a few minutes ago. “You don’t have to worry about pleasing me. You don’t have to worry about pleasing anyone. That’s kind of—okay, the thing is, I haven’t been totally honest with you.”
She cocked her head quizzically, but didn’t ask me what I meant.
I told her anyway. I explained what I knew about her past, the parts she knew herself, and the parts she didn’t. I told her about Elise, and about the others. She took it well, I thought. Then again she was unreadable unless she wanted to be read so what did I know?
“Would I be able to meet them?” she asked.
“Maybe. Two of them run this nightclub in North London called theUndertow, but they’re not—they’re not a lot like you. They’ve both worked for some pretty shady guys and that’s made them pretty shady themselves.”
“Shady?”
“Cold. Ruthless. I think they’re building a small criminal empire.”
This seemed to bother her a lot more than the more abstract idea of her having come in a pack of five.
“What about the others?”
“Well Elise is—y’know. And Lisbeth is more like you, but that means she’s—not sure how to put it—passing? She’s living with a friend’s dad pretending to be human. You could maybe claim to be her twin sister or something. Or I could arrange for you to meet her without meeting him, but I don’t think it’d be fair on anybody for you to stay with them, if that’s what you’re after.”
She looked down, not quite ashamed but at least abashed. “I—I do not think I do well on my own.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” A tiny tiny part of me resented quite how responsible I felt for Russel’s whole line of identikit playthings, but fuck me if they didn’t deserve to havesomebodylooking out for them. “I’d say you could stay with me—”
Her eyes lit up.
“—hold on. I’d say you could stay with me except that I think it would be a terrible idea.”
“I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. I thought it was what you wanted.”
I sighed. “It’s not you. It’s me. And I’d be the worst person in the world if I said I couldn’t be around you because I’d be tempted to take advantage of your—your position. But right now I can’t even look after myself, let alone you.”
She brightened again. “I could look afteryou.”
“It’s not—that is you—you remind me too much of her. And I can’t.”
There was something about the way Galatea was looking at me that made me uncomfortable. “I’m confused.” She said. “You said that Elise wasn’t your lover, but you lived with her and you clearly miss her greatly.”
I shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of lovers. I’ve not had a lot of friends.” Besides, it was like the song said—you didn’t know what you had until it was gone. Of course, ironically Elise really liked parking lots.
The answer seemed to satisfy her. Then again, faking satisfaction was one of the skills that all the Elise-alikes would have needed to learn early. “Thank you for finding Edward for me.”
“Sorry it didn’t work out. Like I say, I think he cared. He just didn’t understand.”
“I’m not sure I understand either.”
“Then you’re in good company. Neither do I, neither do the other seven billion of us. You’ve got my number. Call me if there’s anything you need. Really, anything.”
“I believe I should also speak to you at some point about the bill for your services.”
