For the Sake of Elena (48 page)

“You look exhausted.”

“I was up all night. I need to go home. I need to get some sleep.”

“Take me with you,” she said.

He turned back to her. Her words were smooth enough and said with conviction, but she looked uncertain about their reception. And he was unwilling to risk misunderstanding or to allow hope even a moment to plant roots in his breast.

“To London?” he asked.

“Home,” she replied. “With you.”

How odd it was, he thought. It felt as if someone had cut into him quite painlessly and all of his life force were pouring out. It was the strangest sensation in which blood, bones, and sinews transformed into a palpable deluge which flowed from his heart to encompass her. Caught in the midst of it, he saw her clearly, felt his own body’s presence, but couldn’t speak.

She faltered under his gaze, seemed to think she had made an error in judgement. She said, “Or you could drop me in Onslow Square. You’re tired. You won’t be in the mood for company. And no doubt my flat could use a good airing out. Caroline won’t be back yet. She’s with her parents—did I tell you?—and I ought to see what sort of state things are in because—”

He found his voice. “There are no guarantees, Helen. Not in this. Not in anything.”

Her face grew soft. “I know that,” she said.

“And it doesn’t matter?”

“Of course it matters. But you matter more. And you and I matter. The two of us. Together.”

He didn’t want to feel any happiness yet. It seemed too ephemeral a condition in life. So for a moment he stood there and merely let himself feel: the cold air washing from the Backs and the river, the weight of his overcoat, the ground beneath his feet. And then, when he was sure that he could bear any reply she might make, he said:

“I still want you, Helen. Nothing’s changed there.”

“I know,” she said, and when he would speak again she stopped him with, “Let’s go home, Tommy.”

He loaded their suitcases into the boot, his heartbeat light and his spirit soaring free. Don’t make too much of it, he told himself roughly, and don’t ever believe your life depends on it. Don’t ever believe your life depends upon anything at all. That’s the way to live.

He got into the car, determined to be casual, determined to be the one in control. He said, “You took quite a chance, Helen, waiting like that. I might not have come back and found you for hours. You might have been sitting in the cold all day.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She drew her legs up beneath her and settled companionably into the seat. “I was quite prepared to wait for you, Tommy.”

“Oh. How long?” Still, he was casual. Still, he was the one in control.

“Just a bit longer than you’ve waited for me.”

She smiled. She reached for his hand. He was lost.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

E
LIZABETH
G
EORGE’S
first novel,
A Great Deliverance
, was honored with the Anthony and Agatha Best First Novel Awards and received the Grand Prix de Littérature Policière. Her third novel,
Well-Schooled in Murder
, was awarded the prestigious German prize for suspense fiction, the MIMI.
A Suitable Vengeance, For the Sake of Elena, Missing Joseph, Playing for the Ashes, In the Presence of the Enemy, Deception on His Mind, In Pursuit of the Proper Sinner, A Traitor to Memory
, and
I, Richard
were international bestsellers. Elizabeth George divides her time between Huntington Beach, California, and London. Her novels are currently being dramatized by the BBC. Visit her website at
www.ElizabethGeorge.com
.

ALSO BY ELIZABETH GEORGE

A Great Deliverance

Payment in Blood

Well-Schooled in Murder

A Suitable Vengeance

Missing Joseph

Playing for the Ashes

In the Presence of the Enemy

Deception on His Mind

In Pursuit of the Proper Sinner

A Traitor to Memory

I, Richard

A Place of Hiding

FOR THE SAKE OF ELENA
A Bantam Book

PUBLISHING HISTORY
Bantam hardcover edition published August 1992
Bantam mass market edition / May 1993
Bantam reissue / April 1995
Bantam reissue / August 2003
Bantam trade paperback edition / May 2008

Published by
Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Grateful acknowledgment is made for permission to quote from “Epitaph for Fire and Flower” by Sylvia Plath. From
The Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath
, edited by Ted Hughes. Copyright © 1960 by the Estate of Sylvia Plath. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

All rights reserved
Copyright © 1992 by Susan Elizabeth George

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 91-34865
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
For information address: Bantam Books, New York, New York.

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www.bantamdell.com

eISBN: 978-0-553-90528-1

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