Circle of Stones by Catherine Fisher Page B

wanted to avoid, and so I hung about outside looking in the window, waiting for you. Just to embarrass you. But there was someone else waiting too. A thin bloke in a dark coat. He saw me looking at him and he walked off. But I recognized him, and I’ve seen him since. He hangs around outside the museum sometimes, watches the buskers, reads the paper, sits at the pavement tables. Once he came in on one of the tours.”
    She was shaking. Her hands were icy on the hot cup. She put it down with a clatter.
    â€œHe was there again today.” Josh’s voice was quiet. Now he was looking at her. “Outside, as we were closing, I saw him standing in the doorway of the abbey. That’s why I said I’d walk you home.” He was silent a moment. Then he said, “It’s none of my business. But if this guy is bothering you . . .”
    â€œHe’s not.” She said it so sharply the girl at the counter looked up from reading.
    Josh made a face. He sipped his sweet hot chocolate and said nothing.
    Sulis felt sick. She was suddenly trapped, like a bird in a cage, as if there were bars every way she turned. A woman came in and ordered coffee; the espresso machine started up in a hiss and rattle of steam.
    â€œAll right.” She sat up and faced him. “Maybe he is. But that’s not all of it. You recognized me, didn’t you? On the cover of that book.”
    He stirred the chocolate. For a moment she knew she had made a terrible mistake. Then he said quietly, “You haven’t changed that much.”
    Had he recognized her? Or was he covering his astonishment? She said, “Listen to me, Josh. I can’t talk here. I can’t tell you here. But I need you to do something for me. Go downstairs and buy that book.”
    He stared. “I can’t afford it.”
    â€œI mean for me.” She was groping in her bag; had the money out. She pushed it across the table. “I don’t want it there. I don’t want people looking at it . . .”
    Josh put his spoon down. Whatever he saw in her face seemed to alarm him. “You don’t want this guy to see it?”
    â€œAnyone.”
    â€œIs he some sort of reporter? Police?”
    â€œI’ll tell you! I promise. I’ll explain everything. Just go, Josh, please! Now! Just get it off the shelf!”
    The rising panic in her voice was clear, even to her. She pushed the note closer and he took it. He stood up.
    â€œYou will tell me?”
    â€œYes. Yes!”
    â€œAll right. Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.”
    â€œI won’t. Just be quick.”
    When he was gone she pushed the chocolate away with a shiver. What if the book was gone? If someone had bought it? It must have been there for days, maybe weeks. And in other shops, all over the country, were hundreds of identical copies—her face staring out from shelf after shelf.
    She realized she was rocking gently in the chair. Because she had done it now—she’d promised to tell him. And if she did, someone else would know about Caitlin and her and him. Unless she went, at once. Forget the job. Just completely vanish.
    She stood, grabbing her coat, but Josh was back already with a small package in his hand. He gave it to her and she shoved it into her bag without even looking inside.
    â€œHere’s the change.”
    â€œKeep it.” She pushed past him. “I’ve got to go.”
    â€œI’m coming.”
    â€œJosh . . .”
    â€œI’m coming. You need to tell me about all this. Come on, Sulis. We made a deal.”
    She couldn’t argue. They left the shop after Josh had looked carefully along the street, and they walked up the hill in silence under his big umbrella. When they turned into the Circus and stopped by the house, he was astonished. He gazed up at the windows and whistled. “You live here?”
    She shrugged. “Just a flat. Look, I can’t ask you in