Lulu loved early mornings on the canal. The air was fresh and clean and there was still a faint mist over the water. She had risen at dawn, put on a pullover and jeans and made herself a mug of coffee before untying The Lark and edging out of the Staffordshire arm and onto the canal network. That was an hour ago and they were now on the Bridgewater Canal, heading west.
‘So how long will it take us to get to Bath?’ asked Conrad, who was sitting beside her.
‘Who knows?’
‘Really? You don’t know?’
Lulu laughed. ‘About a hundred and forty hours, I think.’
‘In real money?’
‘Yes, in real money. So if we drive for six hours a day it’ll take us about three weeks, give or take. It depends on the weather, on the locks we go through, how busy the route is. But three weeks sounds about right.’
‘It’s not as if we’re in a rush, is it?’
‘Exactly,’ said Lulu. She took a thoughtful sip of coffee.
‘Do humans find it easy to lie?’ asked Conrad.
‘I suppose they do, yes,’ said Lulu. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I was just thinking how easy they make it look. Criminals lie, of course they do, because they don’t want to be punished. They’ll say anything to escape being sent to jail.’
‘Generally, yes. No one wants to go to prison, do they?’
‘So as a detective, people usually lied to you?’
‘All the time.’
‘That means that whenever you interviewed a suspect, you expected them to lie?’
‘And I was rarely disappointed. It’s one of the reasons police officers become so cynical. They tend to see the worst in people.’
‘And Jeremy lied to you, didn’t he? He looked you in the eyes and hid all sorts of things about who he was and where he was from.’
‘He did.’
‘And he lied to the woman he wanted to marry.’
‘Yes, but he had good intentions, I suppose.’
There were two narrowboats moored ahead of them and Lulu slowed The Lark down. It was still early and the occupants could well be asleep.
‘So lying is all right if it’s done for the right reasons?’
Lulu chuckled. ‘That’s a very complicated question, Conrad.’
‘Actually, it’s quite simple.’
‘Well, yes, the question is, true. But answering it . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Clearly lying is wrong. People always deserve to hear the truth. But whenever I asked my late husband what a new dress looked like, he would smile and say it was perfect. Even when I knew it wasn’t. If I asked if it made me look fat, he’d say of course not. Say I wanted to eat Indian food and I asked him if he wanted to go out to an Indian restaurant, he’d say he’d love to even when I knew he didn’t really like Indian food.’
‘So it’s okay to lie to someone you love?’
Lulu laughed again. ‘You see, that’s why it’s such a difficult question to answer. Of course you shouldn’t lie to someone you love. You shouldn’t lie to anyone. But sometimes you do it to make the other person feel good.’
‘And that makes it right?’
‘Well, no. Because lying is wrong. But if the truth is going to hurt someone, maybe a lie is better. Oh, Conrad. You’re making my head hurt.’
They passed the two moored narrowboats and Lulu increased the throttle.
‘Cats never lie,’ said Conrad.
‘That’s good to know.’
‘I’m serious. We’re incapable of telling a lie. Physically incapable.’
‘So you’d tell me the truth, even if it was hurtful?’
‘There’s no choice in the matter. Cats can’t lie.’
‘Well, I won’t lie to you, either.’
‘Ever?’
‘Ever,’ said Lulu.
He gently butted his head against her side. ‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘You’re very welcome.’