Peter Hamilton - A Quantum Murder

Nah. No chance.

Grinning, he picked up two of the cacti pots.

Someone knocked quietly on the door.

"Come in." He put the cacti down again, thinking it would be the uniformed policeman.

It was Isabel.

He stared dumbly at her, completely tongue-tied. The old Nicholas wasn't so distant after all.

She was wearing a lavender-coloured dress, curly hair held back by a broad black velvet band. As lovely as always. It was so painful just seeing her. Everything he ever wanted. Unreachable.

"Hello, Nick."

"Er, hello. I was just collecting my things." Nothing had changed, he still couldn't talk to her, say what he wanted. Pathetic!

"Me too. The executors are going to take over the running of the Abbey in a couple of days. Did you know they are going to open it as a sort of ashram for university science students?"

"Yes, I'd heard." He looked down at his trainers.

"I'm sorry I didn't help you with the police." She clenched her hands in front of her, fingers twisting. "We all are actually. It was so unfair on you. I don't know how I could have ever believed you were involved."

"That's all right."

"Hardly, Nick."

He risked a glance. She was looking out of the window, face composed, dispassionate.

"I did do it, you know," he said. "It was me."

"No. Your hands, but not you."

He considered that. If Isabel, someone so intimately involved with Kitchener, could accept his innocence, then maybe he was blameless after all. "Isabel?" he began.

She parted her lips in a small knowing smile. "No, Nick, I didn't love him. That was just a part of Launde, the wonder and the craziness. I was swept along like all the others. I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you the next morning."

He hung his head.

"And what about you?" she asked. "What are you going to do next?"

"Er, I've been offered a research post by Event Horizon, actually. In Ranasfari's team at Cambridge. I think I detect the hand of Greg Mandel behind that. If Event Horizon is prepared to employ me, then I must be innocent. That's what people will think, anyway."

"Yes. That was nice of him."

"Greg's all right. Once you get round him having a gland."

"You've changed, Nick. You're stronger now. That's good."

Not enough. Not enough. I haven't! "What are you going to do?"

She smiled secretively. "I'm going to get my doctorate. At Cambridge, actually; I've been accepted by a college."

Nicholas turned bright red. He heard Kitchener's delighted mocking laughter echoing out of… somewhere, and took a deep breath. "Isabel, I love you. And, I know I'm not much—"

She kissed him softly, silencing him. His arms went round her. They fitted just fine.