Page 76 of The Impossible Fortune (Thursday Murder Club Mysteries #5)

‘I was clearing a few things out of the flat yesterday,’ says Paul, getting into bed. ‘And I had a call I thought you might be interested in?’

‘Mmm?’ says Joanna. She is reading about Uruguay in the Economist .

‘Mmm,’ confirms Paul. ‘I spoke to a man named Jeremy Jenkins.’

Joanna stops reading about Uruguay in the Economist . ‘Oh.’

‘Eager to talk to me, it seems,’ Paul says.

‘I see,’ says Joanna. ‘How’s the flat look–’

‘Funny though,’ says Paul. ‘He asked if my wife had passed on his message about the envelopes?’

Joanna nods. ‘Mmm hmm. Huh, okay. Did you like someone referring to me as your “wife”, by the way? It’s nice, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, it’s lovely,’ agrees Paul. ‘Warmed my heart. He said he spoke to you on the phone?’

‘Do you know what?’ Joanna says. ‘Yes, now I think about it. Jeremy Jenkins. A solicitor maybe?’

‘A solicitor,’ confirms Paul. ‘He told me what he told you. About the two envelopes. The envelopes that we know contain the codes.’

‘That was it,’ says Joanna. ‘Yes, it’s coming back to me. The codes. Sorry, mind like an absolute sieve sometimes.’

‘You forgot to pass it on?’

‘Must have,’ says Joanna. ‘You know how busy I’ve been. That Brazil deal. And I got married recently.’

‘Uh huh,’ says Paul. ‘You forgot. It happens. Just to make absolutely sure. You didn’t keep it quiet because a bit of you suspected me at that point?’

‘Suspected you?’ says Joanna. ‘No. God, no. I never doubted you for a second.’

‘But still,’ says Paul, ‘you didn’t tell me?’

‘I don’t tell you about every phone call I take,’ says Joanna. ‘Where would we be?’

Paul smiles and reaches out his hand to hers. ‘Did you ever think it was too soon? You and me? Getting married?’

‘Too soon?’ says Joanna. ‘No, I knew. Instantly.’

‘Didn’t think, perhaps you didn’t know everything about me?’ asks Paul. ‘Perhaps you were rushing into it all?’

‘Never thought about it for a second,’ says Joanna.

‘You never worried?’

‘I did worry ,’ says Joanna. ‘I mean, I knew you were the one, but who knows with life?’

‘Who knows with life,’ agrees Paul. ‘On the surface I look like a professor of sociology, but what if I were a double-murderer?’

‘Yup,’ says Joanna. ‘A bit of me thought that would be just my luck. There’s always a catch, isn’t there?’

‘So,’ says Paul, ‘you took the call from Jeremy Jenkins?’

‘Yes,’ says Joanna.

‘And a bit of you, even if it was only a tiny bit, thought maybe I’d killed Holly?’

‘Yes,’ says Joanna. ‘And Nick too to be fair. I didn’t think you had, but a tiny bit of me thought “What if?” I mean, I’ve met your uncles.’

Paul nods. ‘I think that’s fair enough.’

‘You do?’

‘Of course,’ says Paul. ‘I told Jeremy Jenkins to hold on to the envelopes, that Nick would be in touch as soon as he could.’

‘If Elizabeth and Davey manage to find him,’ says Joanna. The two of them have teamed up but to little effect.

‘Someone will think of a smart way to track him down sooner or later,’ says Paul. ‘Thank you for telling me the truth.’

‘I’ll always tell you the truth,’ says Joanna. ‘From now on. Can I ask you a question though?’

‘Of course,’ says Paul. ‘Have I committed previous murders?’

Joanna laughs. ‘Did you ever have doubts? That it was too soon? That we didn’t know each other well enough?’

Paul hesitates. ‘We’re telling the truth?’

‘No more lies,’ says Joanna. ‘Big or small. Always the truth, except for surprise parties or presents; or, if there’s a TV show you’ve seen that I want to watch, you have to pretend you haven’t seen it before and you have to watch it again with me. Those are the only exceptions.’

‘Deal,’ says Paul. ‘I had a wobble. Not a wobble, an amount of self-doubt. Like, I never doubted you, I doubted myself. Does that make sense?’

Joanna thinks back to her chat with Ibrahim. His certainty echoing the certainty already in her heart. ‘It does. When was this?’

‘Morning of the wedding, believe it or not,’ says Paul.

‘You kept that quiet,’ smiles Joanna. ‘What did you do? Talk to Nick?’

Paul shakes his head. ‘I waited for the guests to arrive, and I talked to Ibrahim.’

‘That sounds like a good person to talk to,’ says Joanna. ‘That’s what I would have done. He reassured you?’

‘He did,’ says Paul.

‘Let me guess,’ says Joanna. ‘He told you that you already knew the answer? That you had come to him specifically because you knew he’d say yes?’

‘No,’ says Paul. ‘Is that what he told you?’

‘I didn’t speak to h–’

‘No lies,’ says Paul. ‘Big or small.’

‘Yes,’ says Joanna. ‘That’s what he told me. What did he tell you?’

‘He told me not to be such an idiot,’ says Paul. ‘And then he told me I was punching a very long way above my weight.’

‘Ibrahim’s got range,’ says Joanna. ‘I’ll give him that.’

‘And then he said there was a key thing to understand about you,’ says Paul.

‘Oh, God,’ says Joanna. ‘What’s the key thing to understand about me?’

‘That you have good genes,’ says Paul.

Joanna laughs, and finds that she can’t stop. The love she has let into her life overcomes her. Paul. Her mum. The safety, the honesty, the sheer bliss of truth. No more lies. Big or small.

‘On a more exciting note,’ says Paul, looking pleased with himself, ‘and talking of surprises, guess who bought us two tickets to see Mumford & Sons on the 17th?’

‘The 17th?’ lies Joanna. ‘You’re kidding me? I can’t go.’

‘Your PA said it was free,’ says Paul.

‘My work diary is free,’ says Joanna, thinking fast. ‘But that’s the day of Mum’s glaucoma operation.’

And that’s not lying, that’s just good genes.