The Kings of Eternity by Eric Brown

Author:Eric Brown [Brown, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781907519703
Publisher: Solaris
Published: 2011-03-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Kallithéa, July, 1999

Langham finished writing at twelve, carried his manuscript book into the villa and locked it in the desk in his study.

He took his sun hat from its hook and set off for Sarakina. It had been three days since he had said goodbye to Caroline with a kiss that she had cut short; he had thought that two or three days would be a decent interval before he called again, though every day he’d hoped she might visit him. Now he would suggest lunch at Georgiou’s, apologise for his forwardness the other evening, and fervently hope that he could see more of her. Hell, he was like a teenager suffering his first crush.

The villa was shuttered. He approached the front door and saw, blue-tacked to the stained wood, an envelope bearing his name.

He tore it open and quickly read the enclosed note.

Daniel, had to rush off to London at short notice. Business. Will be back in a week. See you then - Caroline.

The tone of the note seemed friendly enough, but even so he found himself wishing that she had found time to call on him personally and tell him of her trip. He continued along the track towards the village, contemplating an entire week without talking to Caroline Platt.

He ordered moussaka and salad and a glass of retsina, and sat in the shade and quietly ate. He considered Forbes, the English journalist, and looked across the waterfront to the post office, and above it the open window of the room where Forbes was staying. The window reflected an incendiary burst of sunlight, and it was impossible to see within the room. The thought that Forbes might be watching him at this very minute made him uneasy.

He hadn’t heard from the man for three days, when Forbes had accosted him and detailed his movements in ‘90. More disturbing, though, had been Forbes’ claim that, before ‘90, Langham had been untraceable. Well, there was a good reason for that, and let the fat Englishman try to discover it, if he could.

At two o’clock precisely, Langham paid Georgiou and walked home through the pines. He took his time, inhaling the scent of the trees and contemplating Caroline’s return. He found himself wondering how their friendship might progress, looking into the future and seeing them together, which just a month ago he would have considered as absurd as it was unlikely.

The novel was going well. In a week, slightly less, the first draft would be finished. Its title was Cairo, and it would weigh in at around one hundred and fifty thousand words. He would get the manuscript typed up by Maria in Xanthos, and then begin the leisurely process of going through the typescript and cutting.

He was contemplating the scene he would be working on tomorrow when he stepped onto his patio and saw that he had a guest.

Someone was sitting on the sofa, staring out at the view. He could just see the top of the man’s head, his disgusting ginger bristles.

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