Familiar Rooms in Darkness Read Free Page B

I like your style. I think you’re acute, intelligent, reflective. And you seem to have an understanding of my work that is almost scholarly, if you don’t mind my saying so.’
    â€˜Well, look, if you’re serious –’
    â€˜Never more so. I think you would make an excellent biographer.’
    â€˜I’ve never written a full-length book before.’
    Harry spread his hands. ‘You’re a journalist. My life just happens to be a longer story than most that you write. I would give you full access to my papers, my diaries, such as they are, my correspondence. And, of course, you would have the fullest cooperation of my friends and family. Without that, I don’t think any biographer would get very far. If you accept the commission, it would be understood among my circle that there should be no contact or cooperation, after my death, with anyone else attempting to write about me. Only you.’
    Ring-fencing, thought Adam. He wants to protect his territory. Why me?
    â€˜You look doubtful,’ said Harry.
    â€˜No,’ said Adam with a start. ‘Not at all. I was thinking. I’m just… astonished. And –’ Grateful? Yes, bloody grateful. The biography of Harry Day would have to be worth a six-figure advance from a publisher. Apart from that, it would add a new dimension to his career. Being a freelance was fine, but it could be a shaky existence. The money this would bring in would be invaluable, to saynothing of establishing his reputation for future similar projects. If he could bring this off… Yes, he believed he could. A rush of excitement shook him. A life like Harry’s was a gift. The man had done so much, known so many people. It was bound to sell well. ‘–and grateful,’ finished Adam. ‘That you should ask me.’
    â€˜It’ll write itself,’ said Harry. ‘All I have to do is tell you what happened.’
    Adam nodded. What could be simpler? It wasn’t as though he was going to have to trawl around, picking up a cold trail, researching. Harry was still alive and kicking, and what greater help could a biographer have than that of his subject? Yet he had to ask the question. ‘Why me? Why not one of your old friends, someone like Francis Cleverley, for instance?’
    â€˜Because… because I don’t want this book to be written for all the old bores who knew me, knew those times. I want it to come from someone with a different perspective, someone who might find it all genuinely intriguing.’
    â€˜When do we start?’
    â€˜As soon as possible. I don’t have a great deal of time left. Better make the most of me while you’ve got me.’
    At that moment the door opened and a girl came in. Even dressed in combat trousers, boots and a sweatshirt, she was ethereally pretty. Adam recognized her instantly as Harry’s daughter, Bella Day, a twenty-something actress who had made a name for herself in a recent British gangster film, which had enjoyed unexpected success in the UK and the States. Adam, schooled from an earlyage in old-fashioned courtesies, rose from his chair. Bella gave him an amused glance, and crossed the room to her father.
    â€˜I’m off now, Daddy. I’ve got a hectic weekend ahead.’
    Harry stroked her hand and gestured in Adam’s direction. ‘Bella, I’d like you to meet Adam Downing. He’s a journalist, and he’s going to be working on my biography. Adam, this is my daughter Bella.’
    â€˜Really?’ She shook Adam’s hand and surveyed him with mild curiosity. Adam couldn’t tell from her expression whether she approved of the notion or not.
    â€˜So in due course he’ll want to spend some time talking to you and Charlie about your blighted existence with me.’
    Bella smiled at her father. ‘Blighted’s the word.’ Her attention had switched entirely away from Adam. ‘Are you going to be all