1 The Cuckoo's Calling

“Fine,” said Robin.
She now intended to lay her perfectly typed report in front of him, and then,
with icy calm, discuss the arrangements for her departure. She might suggest that
he hire another temp this week, so that she could instruct her replacement in the
day-to-day management of the office before she left.
Strike, whose run of appalling luck had been broken in fabulous style just a
few hours previously, and who was feeling as close to buoyant as he had been for
many months, had been looking forward to seeing his secretary. He had no
intention of regaling her with an account of his night’s activities (or at least, not
those that had done so much to restore his battered ego), for he was instinctively
close-lipped about such matters, and he was hoping to shore up as much as
remained of the boundaries that had been splintered by his copious consumption
of Doom Bar. He had, however, been planning an eloquent speech of apology for
his excesses of two nights before, an avowal of gratitude, and an exposition of all
the interesting conclusions he had drawn from yesterday’s interviews.
“Fancy a cup of tea?”
“No thanks.”
He looked at his watch.
“I’m only eleven minutes late.”
“It’s up to you when you arrive. I mean,” she attempted to backtrack, for her
tone had been too obviously hostile, “it’s none of my business what you—when
you get here.”
From having mentally rehearsed a number of soothing and magnanimous
responses to Strike’s imagined apologies for his drunken behavior of forty-eight
hours previously, she now felt that his attitude was distastefully free of shame or
remorse.
Strike busied himself with kettle and cups, and a few minutes later set down a
mug of steaming tea beside her.
“I said I didn’t—”
“Could you leave that important document for a minute while I say something
to you?”
She saved the report with several thumps of the keys and turned to face him,
her arms folded across her chest. Strike sat down on the old sofa.
“I wanted to say sorry about the night before last.”
“There’s no need,” she said, in a small, tight voice.