Page 47 of Deep Blue Lies
“Um,” I glance around. “OK? A coffee would be good.”
“Excellent choice.” There’s a walkie-talkie radio on the table, and he picks it up, pressing the button, then mouths at me,how do you take it?
I ask for a cappuccino and he snaps his fingers, leaving one pointing at me as he relays the request.
“Have a seat,” Simon says, taking one of the sofas that face each other over a low table. I take the other.
“So you’re Karen Whitaker’s daughter?” he says, shaking his head a little in apparent disbelief. “You look like her.” His eyes narrow, as if evaluating this after he’s said it. “At least, you’re pretty, like she was.” He sits back and props his arms comfortably along the cushions of the sofa. Meanwhile the elevator opens and a white-uniformed steward steps out, carrying a tray with our drinks. It’s not John, though he’s dressed the same. The man puts the tray down on the table between us, adjusting the silver jar of sugar so that it’s not touching the cups. Then he gives a subtle nod to Simon. He doesn’t look at me.
“Cheers, Terry,” Simon says, not looking at the man as he stirs in a spoonful of sugar and sits back again on the sofa. Terry leaves.
“So. Ava. What exactly do you think I can help with?”
As crazy as all this is, I have thought about what I’m going to say on the bus ride here. So I launch into my explanation now.
“Like I said in my email, I’m trying to learn about the circumstances around my birth, and maybe even discover who my father is. I know that you and Karen…were friends…just before the Aegean Dream Resort closed. I wondered if you could tell me anything about that time.”
Simon doesn’t answer at once. When he picked up his coffee he kept the spoon, and he stirs it again now, watching me.
“One thing first. You say you’re looking for your father, is there any part of you that thinks that would be me?”
I feel my heart rate jump. I have sort-of considered it, but notreally, the dates don’t match up and…there are plenty of other candidates. But I don’t get a chance to think any more, as he goes on.
“Because I’m pretty certain I’m not. We were – young and careless in some regards, but not in that one. Plus I saw Karen a year after Alythos, in London, and she didn’t have a kid.”
“No. I don’t think that.” I feel my cheeks heating up. “I don’t really know what you might be able to tell me. It’s just confusing.”
“And Karen won’t tell you? Who your dad is?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know why not. It’s like there’s some big secret. Something she doesn’t want to face.”
Simon stops stirring at this, just for a moment, then he nods. “That figures. I guess.”
I don’t understand this, but I don’t question it.
“How’d you find out about me? She tell you?”
“No. I…” I don’t know if this is a good idea, but I say it anyway. “I found her diary. She kept it the whole time she was working at the Aegean Dream Resort. Right up until it closed.” I don’t tell him where I got it, and he doesn’t ask. He’s thoughtful though.
“And she mentions me?”
“A bit, yes. She says you were…together in the summer of 2001. Up until the murders. I don’t know what happened after that, because the diary stops just before.”
He studies me a second.
“Just before?”
“The last entry is the day before the murders.”
He seems to process this.
“And when were you born?”
That question’s hard to answer, in the circumstances, but I do my best. “My date of birth is May 20 2001. A month before.”
Simon pulls a face, like I can’t have that right. Then he turns away. He stares at the sleek, interior wall of the yacht, but he doesn’t seem to see it. He’s motionless for just a second too long, and I see the tension in his jaw. Then he exhales, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Alright,” he says in the end. “OK. I understand why you’re trying to figure that one out.”
