Page 39 of The Sleepwalker
‘How are you getting on with your new book?’
‘Let’s throw a veil over that, to paraphrase Henning Mankell,’ he replies.
‘Come on, tell me. Is it going well?’
‘Yes, though I’ve been thinking that I should probably try something new soon.’
‘I know there are so many demands on you, so much expectation. I do. But at the same time .?.?. you can’t just plagiarise yourself because that’s what everyone wants. You need to find the magic in your writing, as you always say,’ she tells him, pressing a hand to her heart.
‘I love romance.’
‘I know, but your mind could be slightly tainted from all the years of—’
‘Tainted?’ he asks with a smile.
‘Sorry,’ she says, holding her tongue.
‘So what should I do? Write a crime novel or—?’
‘No, but I did actually have an idea.’
‘OK.’
‘I hope you’ll take this the right way,’ she says. ‘But I think you should write an honest and deeply human true crime book about all of this. You, me, Hugo .?.?. the police and two murders.’
He puts his cup down and studies her. ‘I’d have to talk to Hugo first.’
‘Of course.’
‘But it’s not a bad idea.’
‘I could help with the research,’ she says. ‘I have contacts on the force, and—’
‘We could write it together,’ he says, getting to his feet excitedly.
‘I’d love that.’
Bernard runs a hand through his hair and looks down at her.
‘On an equal footing, you and me,’ he says, pacing about theroom.
‘My name first.’ She grins. ‘Just kidding.’
‘No, I agree, your name first,’ he says, with a newfound intensity that makes her laugh. ‘This is such an exciting idea. I really do think this could be something, I—’
Bernard stops abruptly when his phone starts ringing. The name Hugo, followed by three red hearts, flashes up on the screen.
‘Hugo?’
‘Is that Bernard?’ asks a woman’s voice.
‘Yes, who is this?’
‘It’s Olga.’
‘What’s going—’
‘Hugo was sleepwalking,’ she interrupts him. ‘He was trying to climb over the railing on my balcony when I found him.’
