The Carrier Read Online Free PDF Page B

guinea pig – much harder to surprise aforementioned pig. What? What are you thinking?’
    ‘You really want to know?’ He followed her into the kitchen: a new space to confine her in if she said the wrong thing. ‘I’m thinking, no one who isn’t a woman should ever have to talk to a woman.’
    Charlie grinned. She took a glug of Smirnoff straight from the bottle. ‘That’s funny,’ she said. ‘You have no idea how most women talk, so you assume I’m representative. I don’t talk anything like a woman. More like a . . .’ – she cast about for an appropriate metaphor – ‘. . . really badly treated disciple of an unhinged messiah.’ She giggled at the horror on Simon’s face. ‘And whenever I can I talk like you, in the hope that you’ll hear me. Like now. You’re wrong: it’s perfectly possible not to know why you did something, but to know for sure that it wasn’t for reason X.’
    ‘I don’t believe it is,’ said Simon. ‘Not unless you’ve got an inkling, deep down.’ He knocked his closed fist against his chest. ‘Somewhere in here, you know why you forgave Liv. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to say that it wasn’t for either of the reasons I suggested, not for sure.’
    ‘Yes, I would.’ Charlie put down the vodka bottle, pulled open the dishwasher. ‘Think of something you’ve done and not known why.’ After a long silence she added, ‘And then tell me.’
    ‘I’ve tried it on me and proved myself right. If I don’t know why, then I don’t know why not.’
    ‘Really? What example did you use?’
    Simon hesitated. Obviously nothing that might exempt him from answering sprang to mind. ‘Proust,’ he said eventually. ‘Why do I let him get away with it? Why do I never go to HR, tell them what goes on behind closed CID doors? I should. No idea why I don’t.’
    ‘Perfect.’ Charlie rubbed the palms of her hands together. ‘Is it because there’s a Persian cat in the Human Resources office, and you’re allergic to cats?’
    Even in conversation with his wife, in the safety of his own kitchen, Simon hated the unexpected. His mouth set in a grim line. ‘You’re being deliberately unhelpful.’
    ‘Like you were, with the cancer idea? I’m supposed to believe my disapproval could provoke new cancer in my sister?’
    She watched Simon’s controlled exhalation with satisfaction. His turn to practise counting to ten. And when he got there, he would find himself still married to Charlie. ‘There’s no cat in the HR office,’ he said. ‘And I know I’m not allergic to cats. You can’t claim that a known falsehood—’
    ‘I’ve just proved that it’s possible, in some circumstances, to know what your motivation
isn’t
without knowing what it is. I rest my case. Put these away.’ She handed Simon two clean pasta bowls, steaming from the dishwasher. ‘There are some reasons we have that we know about, some we have that we don’t know about, and some we
don’t
have, which, when we hear them, we recognise as reasons we would
never
have because they’re not the sort of thing that would ever cross our minds.’
    ‘Let’s say you’ve killed someone, all right?’
    ‘Can you put those bowls away before you get distracted and drop them?’
    ‘You admit it.’
    ‘I admit it,’ said Charlie. ‘It was me.’
    ‘I ask you why. You say you can’t tell me – there is no reason. You don’t know why. You just did it.’
    ‘Did I plan to do it?’
    ‘You say not. It was spur of the moment. Imagine I suggest to you a reason why you might have done it, and it’s a reason that, if you confirm it, might get you a lighter sentence or even keep you out of prison if you’re lucky.’
    Charlie raised her eyebrows. ‘What, you mean that perfectly acceptable motive for committing murder that judges and juries are so lenient about?’
    ‘A motive that’d make it not murder, but a less serious crime. Maybe.’
    ‘But . . . it wasn’t my real