Marcus nodded, wondering how to explain something he didn’t understand himself. ‘I realise that. But...’
Somehow he wanted April to choose to drop the story. He resisted the urge to close his eyes in sheer frustration with himself, and gathered himself together.
‘In the next four days I will close Brian Sewell down. We are close to getting the evidence we need to nail him. Once he is discredited, her story will have no foundation. I’ll also uncover any other potential sources.’
Frederick frowned, his blue eyes shadowed. ‘Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps I should simply tell the truth.’
‘It isn’t that easy,’ Marcus said. ‘And we both know the time isn’t right.’
Frederick exhaled a sigh and bowed his head in acknowledgment before his lips turned up in a sudden impish smile. ‘Well, I will look forward to reading all about “the real Marcus Alrikson”.’ He shrugged. ‘Though I still haven’t grasped why you agreed to that either.’
Who knew? Unfortunately Marcus had a sneaking suspicion that it was to do with his impulsive regret that he’d gone over April’s head to her editor—got her into trouble, betrayed her. Still...
‘I have no intention of giving her any interesting material, so I doubt the article will see the light of day.’
Frederick’s smile increased in size to accommodate his patent disbelief, but to Marcus’s relief he refrained from comment.
‘Keep me posted,’ was all he said.
Marcus nodded. ‘I’ll see you later at the council meeting.’ With a certain reporter in tow...
* * *
Two and a half hours and two meetings later Marcus watched as his colleagues filed out of the room, then turned to look at April.
Although he had forced himself to focus on the agenda, he’d found his gaze inexorably pulled towards her, where she’d sat quietly, her expression intent as she unobtrusively took copious notes.
‘What did you think?’ he asked.
‘It was fascinating. I’ve never had the opportunity to be part of something like this. I loved it. And I was impressed—Frederick does really care, and so do you. About education and about how Lycander can play a part in the world.’
‘Education is central to the future, and we also owe a debt to the children who grew up in Alphonse’s reign, who have been let down by the system for years. Those teenagers, young adults, adults who didn’t get any education, who learnt their life lessons on the streets. I don’t want them to be forgotten.’ The people he and Elvira could have become. ‘I want them to be given choices and opportunities.’
‘Do you think it’s too late for some of them?’
‘I don’t know. But I know we have to try. Some of those people are the next generation; we need the teens of today to believe that the system that let them down has changed. That’s why we must crack down on crime and apathy and poverty. The whole sorry cycle.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m sorry. You’ve had three hours of policy. I won’t bore you further.’
‘I’m not bored at all. How can something so important be tedious?’
Her expression showed genuine sincerity, and when he remembered her true interest in the community centre he couldn’t help but ask, ‘Have you never thought of moving on from celebrity interviews to more serious articles?’
It was as if he’d pulled a plug—his words doused her light of enthusiasm utterly.
‘No. I’ve found my niche and I’m happy there.’
‘Why?’
‘I enjoy what I do and I don’t want the hassle of starting again. I was lucky to get this job and I’m in a good place. I don’t want to rock the boat.’
Ever. He could almost hear the unspoken word. ‘So you want your life to remain exactly as it is?’
‘Yes.’ April tilted her chin in a gesture that stated defiance, yet he noted she’d folded her arms as if in self-defence. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘You’re not even thirty. Surely you have career aspirations? And presumably one day you want a family?’
‘Nope.’ The word held an almost bleak finality, and as if she’d realised she hurried on. ‘I’ve met all my aspirations. I don’t need any more. My life is where I need it to be. I don’t ask for or want more.’ She closed her notebook with an emphatic thunk. ‘Right. I’m off to the shops.’
The topic of her future was clearly closed and padlocked, but that didn’t stop the questions in Marcus’s head. April was young, beautiful, intelligent, and interested in way more than celebrity chit-chat—so why on earth didn’t she want more? And had she really vetoed having a family? That didn’t make sense.