The receptionist told them he was spending the morning at home and, when asked, provided them with an address in Joppa. It was a fifteen-minute drive away and took them past the flat gray waters of the Firth of Forth. At one point, Goodyear tapped the side window.“Cat and dog home back there,” he said. “I went once, thinking I’d get a pet. In the end, I couldn’t choose . . . told myself I’d go back some day.”“I’ve never had a pet,” Clarke said. “Find it hard enough taking care of myself.”He laughed at that. “Any boyfriends?”“One or two down the years.”He laughed again. “I meant just now.”She took her eyes off the road long enough to give him a look. “You’re trying too hard, Todd.”“Just nervous.”“That why you’re asking so many questions?”“No, not at all. I’m just . . . well, I suppose I’m interested.”“In me?”“In everybody.” He paused. “I think we’re put here for a purpose. Never find out what it is if you don’t ask questions.”“And your ‘purpose’ is to pry into my love life?”He gave a little cough, face reddening.
