The Hallmarked Man (Cormoran Strike, #8)

by Robert Galbraith

Or what? Was he trying to tell her indirectly that he did have deeper feelings for her than he’d ever admitted before? Was he pushing to see what she felt in turn? Or was it safe to play this game, now she was with Murphy? Was his aim to undermine her relationship, because it suited him better to keep her single, meaning the threat of her leaving the agency receded? With mounting annoyance, Robin asked herself why, if Strike had something to say, it had to be couched in these plausibly deniable terms, out of the mouth of a dead woman. What was she supposed to say, in a crowded pub, in the middle of a job: ‘was Charlotte right? Are you in love with me?’ If Strike did indeed feel anything approximating love for her, he’d had countless opportunities to say so, hadn’t he? She’d suffered on account of her own feelings for him far more than she wanted to admit to herself nowadays. Had he hinted at such feelings two years previously, everything might have been different… or would it? As Robin knew from long, close contact with him, Strike didn’t do committed relationships. A few months was all she’d ever known him manage, and Robin was now old enough, and wise enough, to know she’d never be the kind of person who wanted casual sex, or short flings. It was important to remember that, whenever her ill-disciplined thoughts drifted towards Cormoran Strike…

‘Because sometimes,’ said Strike, all caution gone, ‘if you can’t get what you want, you take what you can get.’

‘’Course,’ he added, ‘he’s not stupid. He knows he won’t ever find anyone like you again.’

You’re literally the best I’ve ever worked with. Ever. But you had no qualms telling me I wasn’t fit for the job when I was on crutches, and I’m returning the favour. No public transport, no lonely locations and especially no more night-time excursions on your own. None, until we’ve wrapped up this case.’ ‘But—’ said Robin, whose eyes had filled with tears when Strike had said she was the best he’d ever worked with. ‘There’s no “but”,’ said Strike. ‘We’ve had this discussion before. If you aren’t shaken up by all this, you bloody well should be. Doesn’t mean you can’t work, just means you’ll be working differently for a while.’

‘you told me you “didn’t want to lose me”. I don’t want to lose you.’

Strike was suddenly flooded with adrenaline. He might have been back on that yellow dirt track, knowing what was about to happen, because he’d spotted the youth who’d planted the IED running away from the road, dragging a small boy he was determined to pull clear of the imminent explosion. He’d yelled ‘brake’, but too late to avoid calamity. He was almost certainly too late now. Nevertheless, he wrenched open the glass door.

‘Don’t make the same mistake twice.’ ‘What?’ said Robin, confused. ‘Just because Murphy’s been decent over – you know – you don’t owe him.’ Robin, who felt nothing but astonishment, stared up at him. Then, suddenly, realisation hit her. ‘You know?’ ‘Know what?’ said Strike. ‘That Ryan’s going to propose.’ ‘So you know?’ he said, descending another step, trying to read her expression. ‘How—?’ ‘He told Iverson. She told Wardle.’

‘I’m in love with you.’ Robin neither moved nor spoke, but somewhere inside she felt a cold eruption, and couldn’t have told whether it was shock, pleasure or pain, and nothing occurred to her except to say for the fourth time, ‘What?’ ‘I’m in love with you,’ Strike repeated. Robin’s expression was entirely blank, her face a little paler than usual, but unreadable. The silence stretched on, and Robin simply stared. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard, but the conclusion she’d reached over the last few, excruciatingly painful months finally decided her to say in a clipped voice, ‘I know exactly what you’re doing.’ It was taking every ounce of her self-possession not to break down.

‘The agency, it’s always—’ ‘It wasn’t just the agency, it was this, us, the friendship—’ ‘Well, I’m still your friend, so you needn’t—’ ‘I don’t want to be your fucking friend,’ said Strike, his own voice rising now, ‘that’s what I’m fucking telling you. I’m in love with you. Everyone else can see it, why can’t you?’

‘I had to tell you,’ said Strike. ‘You had to know.’