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Dec. 12th, 2014|05:21 pm |
Nu un pati pasāža, pie kuras man sākumā pacēlās abas uzacis:
I make an effort to compose myself. ‘It’s about the Sunday we went to the auction,’ I say. ‘There’s a chance a detective from Spilling Police might get in touch with you and ask you if my car was missing a mirror that day. A wing mirror.’
[..]
‘If you’re asked, can you please, please tell the police my car had both its mirrors when I drove you to and from the auction?’ I say. Now I’m begging: a little treat for Melissa’s ego. I hope she enjoys it, since it’s unlikely to happen again. ‘I know it was irresponsible of me to drive to London, then Grantham, then back to London with a missing wing mirror. It’s not something I make a habit of doing, and, honestly, I’ll never do it again if you’ll help me get the cops off my back just this once.’ I put on my best desperate-sinner-praying-for-mercy face. It’s probably indistinguishable from my normal everyday expression, come to think of it.
‘No. No.’ Melissa’s shaking her head as she pours milk into a mug for me. She looks scared, as if she thinks I might be able to force her to agree. ‘I’m not lying to the police for you, Nicki. No way.’ |
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