The Carrier Read Online Free PDF

but maybe I do.’ He sounded pleased, as if he’d been seeking her uncertainty all along. ‘Was it because . . .’ He broke off and started to turn in a small circle beside her, like a mechanical toy that was running out of battery power. His states of emergency always began in the same way: twitchy, erratic movements that dwindled to stillness as more and more energy was diverted to the racing brain.
    ‘Simon?’
    ‘Hm?’
    ‘Are you trying to
guess
why I started talking to Liv again?’
    ‘No. The opposite.’
    ‘What does that—?’
    ‘Shh.’
    Charlie had had enough. ‘Your pawn is going to the kitchen to consume alcohol while loading the dishwasher,’ she said. ‘If you want to carry on playing, you’ll have to bring the game in there.’
    Simon beat her to the lounge door and slammed it shut, trapping her in the room. ‘The dishwasher can wait,’ he said. ‘Did you forgive her because you realised your parents aren’t getting any younger, and when they die, Liv’ll be the only family you’ll have left?’
    ‘No. But, again, thanks for the cheery reminder. Maybe Gibbs’ and Liv’s relationships will both break up, they’ll marry each other, and I’ll get to be beloved auntie to the premature twins. Or at least tolerated sister of homewrecking slapper stepmum.’
    ‘Stop dicking about. No? You’re saying that’s not the reason you forgave her? So what was?’
    ‘Oh, God, Simon, I don’t
know
.’
    ‘Was it because she had cancer when she was younger? You were worried it’d come back if you were too hard on her?’
    ‘No! Absolutely not.’
    ‘Two nos. Okay, so: why did you forgive her?’
    One, two, three, four . . .
The trouble was, you could count to ten and still find yourself married to Simon Waterhouse at the end of it. ‘Is there a history of dementia in your family?’ Charlie asked.
    ‘I know I keep asking, but please, can you try to think? Don’t let yourself off the hook so easily.’
    ‘If I don’t, who will? Not you. I could waste my whole life dangling from your hook. That wasn’t an innuendo, by the way.’
    ‘Think really hard. There must be a reason, and deep down, you must know what it is, or else . . .’ He stopped. Bit his lip. He’d said more than he’d intended to.
    ‘Or else . . .’ Charlie concentrated on trying to guess the end of his sentence instead of tackling his question, since she was almost certain he wasn’t really interested in her feelings towards Olivia. To ransack her brain for the right answer only to have him ignore its emotional content entirely would be too frustrating. ‘Ah, I get it,’ she said. ‘This isn’t about me and Liv. It’s about one of your cases. Let me guess: someone’s been murdered. And . . . somebody’s confessed. But they’re saying they don’t know why they did it. You thought you’d worked out motive, but when you suggested it to them, they denied it – said no, that wasn’t why. You think if this killer knows why he
didn’t
do it, that must mean he knows why he
did
do it. You’re wrong.’
    ‘Is that what your sister told you?’ Simon asked angrily. ‘What Gibbs told her?’
    ‘No. All my own work,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ve banned Liv from talking about your and Gibbs’ cases since she stuck her oar in last year. She’s been pretty good about it.’
    ‘Then how—’
    ‘Because I’m tied to you by invisible chains. Because I’ve ditched all parts of my own brain that aren’t immediately necessary, in order to make space to carry around in my head a gold, glowing replica of
your
brain, so vastly superior.’
    Simon frowned. ‘What crap are you talking now?’
    Charlie shoved him out of the way, opened the door and headed for the kitchen, which, this evening, felt less like a room in its own right and more like unnecessarily elaborate packaging for a bottle of vodka. ‘I know how your mind works, Simon. I don’t know why that surprises you. Once the guinea pig knows it’s a