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Chapter 6

Now I'm chasing the cracks,
so I can let the light in.
- Ed Sheeran: Page

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"Stephen, be so kind and act like a father to your child, please. Poor Cormoran must feel like a human toy by now," Linda said, accusingly raising her eyebrows at her oldest son, who was amusingly watching the detective at the wrestling contest with his offspring, who was giggling all the time.
The toddler was winning, despite Strike's effort to rid himself of the little oppressor.

The Ellacotts and their London guest were back in the house after the wake that later afternoon, all a little tired, in a mild melancholic state, but all relieved they had time and space for themselves again.

"All right, miss," Stephen said and walked over from his armchair by the fireplace to pick up his daughter. "It's time we headed home so you could hit the hey," he added, but to his surprise, the girl was like a magnet, not wanting to let go of the detective's healthy leg.
"Come on, Annabel, be a good girl." Her father was getting frustrated as the tiny hands clutched at Strike's trousers, unwilling to let go. His wife watched this little wrestling contest with amusement like everyone, except her husband.

Strike himself didn't do anything, he only observed Stephen's hopeless fight and smirked. Somewhere back in his mind, he felt a surprising satisfaction about the fact that for whatever reason, he was so popular with the youngest member of the Ellacott family. And all he had to do was pretend a little boxing match with the girl and make funny faces.
If Lucy saw me now, I would never hear the end of it, he thought, suppressing a chuckle. His sister knew how impartial he was to children, her son Jack being the only one of the kind that he held in an affectionate regard.

"That's really enough now, Annabel," Stephen said, unnerved now, especially when he saw the girl slip down to her knees and suddenly wrap her little arms around Strike's prosthesis. She noticed something new, solid and hard, and before anyone could do anything, she pulled on the detective's trouser and pulled it slightly up.

The adults in the room suddenly froze, realising how Annabel unwantedly invaded Strike's privacy in the worst possible way. All of them apart from one - the detective himself. He found the bewildered face of the child amusing, especially because he was convinced she was trying to understand how that 'thing' worked. The next moment he knew, her little fingers started curiously exploring the cold metal.

"If you manage to break that, I'll share my last biscuit with you," Strike remarked with a grin, not self-conscious about his leg at all. Usually, he would be, but in the case of Robin's niece, he didn't face pity, only curiosity and amazement, which made it all perfectly normal and comfortable.

"I'm ever so sorry, Cormoran," Stephen said nervously, finally managing to drag his daughter from the detective, lifting her up in his arms.
"No worries," Strike replied with a smile. "Could have been worse; she could have gone for my beard."

His visible ease about the incident helped others relax and they chuckled. Stephen passed Annabel to Jenny, who was already standing. Only then did Strike turn his head to look at Robin, sitting next to him. His smile slightly faded at the sight of her expression - it was the same one he had seen before the memorial service after his other little exchange with his partner's niece. It was even more penetrating and more faraway than before as if Robin forgot that she was not alone in some hideaway spot but in clear view of everyone around her. She quickly recovered and looked away after flashing a smile at Strike.

His first instinct was to worry about Robin's possible thoughts, but he didn't feel worried at all. He enjoyed the amusing exchange with Annabel, and although it didn't make him completely change his attitude toward children, he realised some of them might be acceptable, maybe even fun to be around. There was still the business with nappies, snot and no proper sleep for at least a year, but with a little (or a lot of) effort, it just might be worth it in the end…

You are definitely losing your mind, Strike thought suddenly, realising he had let his train of thought slip into a territory he usually wouldn't even think of entering. Children were a nuisance, very inconvenient in his job, absolutely unimaginable…

His eyes absently dropped to the screen of the mobile phone in Robin's hands.
"From Pat," Robin said with a sad but grateful smile. "From the whole office but it's got her language all over. I swear I can even smell the scent of her vape." She chuckled; Strike smiled. "I've only just checked my inbox, I just couldn't…"

Her voice faded, and she lifted her eyes from the phone, looking at her partner.
"It's all right," Strike assured her. "I'm sure they understand."

Robin nodded and averted her eyes from his gaze. She put her phone on the coffee table, stood up and walked out of the living room, briefly followed by the eyes of others present in the room.

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She was sitting on the bench in front of the house, soaking in the last warm rays of the spring sun. Her eyes were closed, her head leaning back against the wall, and she was deep in thought. Robin needed a bit of space and some fresh air. It had been an exhausting day, exhausting few days, in fact, and she was glad it was almost over. Now would come the time to start processing the reality and learning to live with it as Strike called it.

As if knowing her thought travelled to him, Strike suddenly appeared at the open door and after watching her for a moment, he asked: "Can I join you?"
"Of course," she replied, her position unchanged.
When he sat down next to her, only then did Robin open her eyes and sigh. For the first time in almost a week, it was not a heavy sigh, but rather one of partial acceptance. She still didn't look at Strike, keeping her gaze ahead.

"It seems that little traitor of my niece has adopted you," she said with an amused smile.
"Yeah," agreed Strike, mirroring her expression. "I was told I make a good impression on women."
Robin glanced at him with raised eyebrows before they both snorted.
"No, seriously," she continued. "Annabel usually despises strangers and yells like mad. You should take this as a compliment."

Strike had a flashback to the photograph of a little bold monkey screaming her lungs out. Still in there somewhere then, he thought and smirked.
"Thanks. But if you ever mentioned this to Lucy, I will sack you for good," he remarked.
"You can't. I'm your partner," Robin countered with a grin, without looking at him.
Strike shook his head and sighed, pretending misery.
"Remind me why have I fucking done that?"

"Because I'm brilliant and just as good as you, even though it annoys you."

"Damnit…" Strike sighed again. "It really does."

Robin chuckled, making him smile.

"I like this," she stated after a brief quiet moment, gazing into the slowly setting sun over the waves of green fields ahead of them.
"I admit you hardly get a better view in London," Strike remarked truthfully.
"That's not what I meant."

That caught his interest. Robin finally turned her head to look at him.
"I meant us."

Her words knocked the wind out of Strike's lungs, making him freeze, with his eyes firmly gazing at her. He was hoping against hope that she meant what he thought she meant.
"The peace…," Robin continued, and Strike realised he was holding his breath. "The understanding, knowing each other… the way we don't have to say anything to know what we think or feel…"

She paused for a while, and Strike's mind was reeling from the possible implications of her words.

"The way how comfortable we are with each other. The-"

He noticed Robin's breath hitch in her throat before she averted her eyes, a gentle blush rising up her cheeks.
"-friendship…" she concluded, with a small smile before looking at him again, her whole face speaking of something much deeper, though.

Strike couldn't take his eyes off her, only now noticing the hammering beat of his heart in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the singing birds and the leaves rustling in the nearby trees, touched by a gentle breeze.

This is it… This is finally it… Honesty or we're screwed…

As if by a touch of a magic wand and without a blink of an eye, he made a decision, one that would finally put an end to the endless torture and ever-more-agonising dance around the intense and obvious feelings between them. To hell with fear…

He stood up and asked a simple question.
"Walk with me?"

Something in his piercing look and the way he asked the question made Robin shiver. She sensed he had something important to say and she couldn't help but hope her intuition was right about what it was. Willingly, almost eagerly, she replied quietly,
"Sure."

He opened the little gate and let her pass before following her, walking out on the pathway leading them along the fields. The ember and gold of the setting sun mingled with streaks of crimson as if a painter couldn't decide whether to blend the red into the background or make it prominent, so they just smudged the canvas with a few random brush strokes. Robin couldn't help but be mesmerised by the spectacle unfolding in the sky. Just as they approached a little, half-open wooden gate in the low stone wall, leading out into the open field, she stopped. She accepted the invitation immediately and walked through, stopping a few steps further.

Strike followed her and took his place by her side. To any random passer-by, the detectives would be two people watching the sunset. If they knew them well, they would see two people on the threshold of a new beginning.

"Renewed hope," Strike said, enjoying the warm hues colouring the sky.
"What?" Robin was uncomprehending but didn't look away from the horizon.
"A colourful sunset," her partner elaborated. "People attribute a lot of symbolic meanings to it, one of them being the renewed hope, a new beginning, a revived spirit. It says that things will turn out okay."

Robin smiled. No matter how much Strike disliked astrological 'bollocks' and anything spiritual, his broad general knowledge (mainly forced at him by Leda and conveniently resurfacing from time to time) covered even these areas.
"Before you ask, yes, I actually do think there is some truth about it," he remarked before she could reply.
Robin raised her eyebrows, amused, and cast a side glance at him. Feeling her surprise, Strike looked at her.
"I know, I'm supposed to be the stodgy one, not a romantic tosser talking of the magic of sunsets." He shrugged.
"I never thought you boring," Robin disagreed, with a chuckle, and averted her eyes again. "You're anything but."

He smiled, and couldn't take his expressive blue eyes off her profile. It was illuminated by the warm glow of the last sunrays, brightening Robin's eyes and bringing them to life again.

"Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" she whispered, with a bewildered smile.
Strike's initial thought was to keep his comment to himself, but his newly-found resolution meant that he perished it, so he replied – calmly but convincingly, still focusing on her face.
"I am looking at it."

Robin's enchantment burst like a bubble, and she turned her head to him. Their eyes locked and she finally saw it, clear, intense and untamed in his gaze at last – the raw emotion speaking of need, want and desire. And something else, even stronger, that made her stomach lurch and her heart start racing. She swallowed hard and took a deep, shaky breath.

Strike knew she understood. There was a reason why Robin was the best empath he had ever known. However, she deserved more than just her own deduction. After all the years of denial and confusion, she deserved to hear the truth from him. A deep sigh tore from his throat as he shook his head and took a few steps back as if needing space to gather the courage to tell her everything he had been painstakingly bottling up for years.

"The thing of having both work and private life," he started, "I never believed in it. I saw no way how they could work together without one affecting the other if something went really wrong in either of them. I believed that if I mess up something privately, it would affect my work and screw everything up... After breaking up with Charlotte, I was convinced that I could never mix both again, that if I wanted to succeed at detective work, I couldn't involve feelings into the equation, meaning no real relationships, perhaps convenient ones, but no heart reigning over my head again. That's why it eventually didn't work out with either Elin, Lorelei or Madeleine and I decided I was done with false attempts." He paused.

"I thought Charlotte was the last woman who would ever have rattled my emotional cage, until…" He raised his eyebrows.
Strike glanced absently at his feet and chuckled before lifting his eyes back to Robin, with a soft expression. "… until the day I almost killed a head-strong and fucking beautiful temp at my bloody staircase."

There were very few times when Robin Ellacott had been speechless – this was one of them. She half-expected it and still… It hit her like a truck, finally confirming what she had sensed for years.

"I can't tell you everything that made me change my mind," Strike continued. "I can't because we would be stuck here all night, and I would fail miserably because even Catullus wouldn't help me describe it without sounding disgustingly cheesy. Besides…" He paused again, the old insecurities resurfacing again.

"I may be the best private investigator in London…Well, the second best, annoyingly after you, of course…" He quickly glanced at Robin and saw an amused smile on her face. "The point is, I may be great at my job, but as you may have noticed over the years, I find it very difficult to deal with more… personal matters... "

"Christ knows I've tried, and tried very hard to tell myself that this could never work, that I'd be risking losing both if it went tits up - my best friend and my business partner." Strike paused and took a few slow steps towards her before speaking again. "Thinking about it now, losing my business partner would ruin my career, but losing my best friend… you would bloody kill me…"

Robin silently watched him pour his heart out like he'd never done it before. In all the years they've known each other, they've gradually opened up more to each other, but never like this. The raw honesty of his words pinned her to the ground and tied her tongue.

"For years I've been shutting up Lucy, Ilsa and everyone else who has seen through my bullshit, keeping a wall between us and clinging to every excuse to keep it up - Matthew, the agency, my independence, my respect for you as a partner and a person, my own stupidity." He sighed, shrugging helplessly and shaking his head, not leaving her eyes, though. "It's all bollocks…" He snorted, then made another step closer to her.

"We know each other from head to toe, exactly as you said… We like being together, and don't tell me you don't," he stopped her possible protest, more out of conviction than out of fear she might deny the fact. "I may be thick sometimes, but I'm not blind, Ellacott." He raised his eyebrows and a smile softened his rough features.

"I can't do it anymore… I can't stand this emptiness every time you walk away from the office at the end of the day, or the panic seizing me every time there might be someone else on the horizon for you. I can't keep it inside anymore; it's been eating me for years, this… feeling..."

"What feeling?" Robin finally spoke, and Strike noticed her eyes were glistening.
"You're London's best private investigator, you should know bloody well by now." His honest eyes revealed the whole truth. He realised that due to circumstances, it wasn't the most appropriate time to tell her, but he knew it was the right time.

"You know I'm generally a stubborn arsehole, but the thing is…" He took one final step toward her, being a breath's distance away from her face. "I'm not afraid anymore. I've learned that both good and bad times are a part of the package deal, and that if it's with the right person, these moments don't break us but make us stronger. You taught me that because you are that right person, the only person I want to share my life with, whatever remains of it."

Strike went silent but his eyes were willing Robin to speak. She didn't move; her face was unreadable.

"I appreciate silence after a day full of chasing criminals in dodgy places but please… say something?" the detective was getting nervous.

After a quiet moment that seemed like an eternity to him, Robin shook her head and the changed expression on her face made Strike's heart leap.

"Cormoran Blue Strike…You're the biggest idiot in the world, you know that?" she said quietly, with a beaming smile, as a tear escaped from her eye. "I've waited for years for you to say that…"

Later, they didn't remember who made the first step. Like two magnets with the correct polarity, attracted to each other from the very first moment of their first encounter, they were finally ready to stop defying the laws of physics and the heart.

In the middle of a not-so-gentle kiss, they finally pulled back from each other, catching breath, leaning forehead to forehead. Strike couldn't get enough of running his fingers through Robin's silky, golden hair. He noticed that she was trembling, and held her tighter. This new intimacy felt like lava that had just erupted from a volcano, running down the hill – burning him to the core and yet not destroying, but warming something precious hidden deep inside him, something he had thought seven years ago would never be ignited again.

"I know it's wrong, but I'm scared of one thing… that I won't be good enough for you one day…," Robin whispered with closed eyes.
He cupped her face and made her look at him. "I'm terrified that I will never be good enough for you," he replied quietly."But I know that together we are the best for each other, and I also know that whatever happens, we'll be fine. After all that we've been through together, knowing all of each other's scars that life had given us, how couldn't we be? We'll always find a way, a good one."

Robin suddenly started laughing, making Strike stop and look at her with a confused smile.
"I know I'm a grotesque moron but I had no idea I'm that buggered," he remarked, amused.
"No, it's just…," Robin said, still chuckling. Then she looked into the deep grey-blue of his eyes. "Do you know what date is it today?" she asked; an enigmatic expression settled on her radiating face.
"Err…. March, 29th?" he replied, admiring her slightly flushed cheeks.
Robin's smile got wider as she nodded without elaborating on the fact.

Strike shook his head with a confused smile when it suddenly hit him - as if it was possible to forget the date of his final break-up with Charlotte Campbell, although she was nothing more than a bittersweet memory in his mind.

"Seven years ago today… It was exactly seven years ago that you walked into my office for the first time," he breathed.

"Our office," Robin corrected him with pride, thinking fondly of that day, and her eyes glistened.
"Shit, sorry, of course, our office." Strike chuckled and put a loose strand of hair behind her ear in a seemingly subconscious manner. The touch of his warm fingers on her skin felt electrifying, though.

"Seven years," he whispered, shaking his head. "That's a fucking long time to wait."
"I totally agree." Robin nodded, grinning.

"It's a sign," he said then.
"You don't believe in signs," Robin countered, amused.
"True, but I believe in us." Strike's smile grew wider. "And I can't stop thinking about you in the wedding dress," he added quietly, finally feeling free to admit to her how the image of her on her ill-fated wedding day had been haunting him for years. His eyes were drinking in every colour shade of her blue-grey eyes as the memory of years back brought a lump in his throat.

The smiles on their faces slowly faded; both were suddenly hit by the meaning of what Strike had just said. They kept staring at each other, both wanting to say something but for a while unable to do so.

"Bloody hell, Strike… Did you just… propose to me?" Robin finally asked incredulously. Her facial expression was frozen like a film reel stuck in the same frame; only her eyes blinked several times.
Strike suddenly panicked he had crossed the line between them not with one step but a giant leap - he knew getting married was the last thing his partner thought about since her fiasco with Matthew.

Fuck… fuck! Why the hell did you say that?! You're barely together for what, two minutes, and you're thinking of bloody wedding bells already? You're not the marrying type anyway!
He was trying to talk reason into his mind but in vain. He knew now he couldn't fool himself. Life had changed him too much, and Robin played not a small part in his transformation.

"No," Strike blurted and swallowed hard, his eyes and avoiding her gaze. "I mean… not exactly right now, but… just letting you know I wouldn't be entirely opposed to the idea at some point in the future, since I know how you're not keen on getting married again anytime soon. But just in case, should you ever wish to do so." He dared to look at her and added quickly. "Preferably before I hit the state pension age, but I am willing to negotiate that possibility as well if…"
"Strike…" Robin interrupted his stream of words and put a hand over his mouth.

The detective froze, his lips tingling from the soft touch of Robin's hand. He noticed her eyes were glistening again.
"I know, too much, too soon." His words were muffled, spoken into the palm of her hand. He seemed in his own world, stubbornly trying to rectify a mistake he thought he had made.
"Strike!" Robin laughed, finally silencing him. His eyes found hers again, nervously waiting for her response. He was hoping he hadn't messed up things beyond repair.
"Just shut up," Robin said with a smirk and slowly dropped her hand from his mouth, fleetingly grazing his scarred lip with her thumb.

Strike finally relaxed and allowed himself a smile. Robin leaned into his large frame and kissed him so thoroughly that his head started spinning.
"Was that a yes?" Strike murmured with a cheeky smirk when they came apart, intoxicated by the kiss.
Robin laughed, this time properly, and embraced him tightly. She couldn't wipe a grin off her face.
"What was the thing about you reaching the state pension age again?" she asked then sheepishly.

It was Strike's turn to laugh. He buried his head into her hair and inhaled the scent of her shampoo blended with Narcisso. He exhaled loudly, finally letting the long years of tension vanish in thin air, grasping the new reality with all his being.

"I love him, darling… One day you'll feel like that about somebody…"
His mother's love was ill-fated, marking him for most of his life, leaving him with a feeling of disillusion and misconception, strengthened by his complicated and draining relationship with Charlotte. However, Leda's words caught up with Strike eventually and finally, he knew what she had meant.

Finally, his heart was at peace.

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