Robin found his way to the sushi parlor in somewhat of a fog. Emma was already waiting for him. When he sat down and put the carrier bag on the table, she raised an eyebrow. “Thought you didn’t read anymore.”
Robin pulled out the copy of Without Her that he had written his notes in. Wren said that he could take it for free, but he bought it, not wanting to get her into trouble.
“Haven’t you got enough of them?” She laughed. She was right—the hallway of his flat was littered with proof copies, hardbacks and foreign versions all stacked up with nowhere to go.
“I wrote in it.”
“Isn’t that the general idea?” Emma said, and smiled. “How’d it go?”
“Fine,” Robin said, trying to keep his mind from what Matthew had said and thinking of nothing else. “The usual, you know. Slow. But I met some nice people. Have you ordered?”
They ate in relative silence. Emma talked a little about her day—complete now, as there were only morning appointments on a Saturday—although she never went into too much detail about her patients. The most she elaborated was about the increase of hypochondriacs having absolutely nothing wrong with them. The rise of WebMD had been the bane of Emma’s existence.
Robin stayed silent, only half listening to her and picking at his food. He managed some salmon but that was about all he could stomach. And then—was Emma talking to him?
“What’s wrong?” she said, staring at him with the intensity of a general practitioner and a sister all in one.
“Nothing,” Robin said, knowing that wouldn’t work, but doomed to try.
“Uh-huh.”
Robin looked around and then back to her. “Have you ever heard of Standedge?”
She thought for a moment. “No, what is that—a band?”
“I don’t know,” Robin said.
She stared at Robin. She was only four minutes older than him—but caught in the path of one of those stares, it felt like four minutes made all the difference. “What happened?”
Robin looked away, rebuking the challenge. “Nothing.”
“Ah, good,” she said, her demeanor changing. “Do you want coffee or shall we get the bill?” Which was subtext and reverse psychology all at the same time. Sometimes Robin thought Emma would give even a clairvoyant a headache.
Robin caved. He opened up the hardback and showed her the notes he’d made, guiding her through the conversation with Matthew. Ending on Sam.
She listened closely, not betraying her feelings until she had heard the full story. When Robin was done, she was quiet for a moment, thinking. After a beat, she said, “And this is what’s got you all—” she waved a hand at him “—whatever this is?”
Robin was a little taken aback. “Did you hear...? He said Sam. He said he’d talked to Sam.”
She sighed and looked at him sadly. “It was just a stupid prank, Robin. Your first impressions were correct. He was having you on. Somehow—who knows how—he got your number and thought he’d have a bit of fun with you. And it sounds like he had a great time.”
“You didn’t hear him talk about this thing. This Standedge. And his friends. He sounded... He sounded like he’d lost something. Someone.” Robin stumbled over what he was trying to say, and didn’t want to say what was next, as though it would make it real. “He sounded like me.”
“Robin...” Emma started.
But Robin interrupted. “You remember that day you came to my flat with the laptop and told me to write it down. The day I started writing Without Her.”
“You were sitting at the kitchen table staring at a bottle of Jack Daniel’s,” Emma said.
“Yes,” Robin said, “I was lost. And you helped me. You helped me find a way through it. Matthew sounded like me that day. He sounded lost too.”
“And what?” Emma said, almost flippantly. “Sam has led him to you.”
Robin threw up his hands. “I don’t know—maybe. I...I don’t know.”
Emma’s phone rang, and she looked at it before declining the call. “I have to go but we’re talking about this later. Don’t let this open old wounds, Robin. It was just some idiot getting some jollies at your expense. Don’t play his game. Focus on other things. Don’t you have a meeting on Monday with your publisher?”
Robin wasn’t even thinking about that. The publisher wanted to talk “Book Two” and so did Barrows. The Without Her money was running out. They were moving on to the next project—they had the luxury.
Emma got up. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Sure,” Robin said. And as Emma turned to go, he called after her, “One more thing.” She turned back. “Did I ever tell you about Clatteridges?”
Emma shrugged. “No. No, you didn’t.” And then she was gone.
Robin turned back to his plate and looked down at the notes he made. Emma’s arguments were in his head—a stupid joke, just a prank, just a load of rubbish.
But what if Emma was wrong?