Lie Down With Lions by Ken Follett Page A

different identity every time he rented a car, but identities were expensive and the Agency would not provide them for a desk man. So he used Gill’s Honda, or hired the local taxi.
    Petal came back in, with her blond hair wafting about her shoulders. Ellis stood up. Gill said: “The keys are in the car.”
    Ellis said to Petal: “Jump in the car. I’ll be right there.” Petal went out. He said to Gill: “I’d like to invite her to Washington for a weekend.”
    Gill was kind but firm. “If she wants to go, she certainly can, but if she doesn’t, I won’t make her.”
    Ellis nodded. “That’s fair. See you later.”
    He drove Petal to a Chinese restaurant in Little Neck. She liked Chinese food. She relaxed a little once she was away from the house. She thanked Ellis for sending her a poem on her birthday. “Nobody I know has ever had a poem for their birthday,” she said.
    He was not sure whether that was good or bad. “Better than a birthday card with a picture of a cute kitten on the front, I hope.”
    “Yeah.” She laughed. “All my friends think you’re so romantic. My English teacher asked me if you had ever had anything published.”
    “I’ve never written anything good enough,” he said. “Are you still enjoying English?”
    “I like it a lot better than math. I’m terrible at math.”
    “What do you study? Any plays?”
    “No, but we have poems sometimes.”
    “Any you like?”
    She thought for a moment. “I like the one about the daffodils.”
    Ellis nodded. “I do, too.”
    “I forgot who wrote it.”
    “William Wordsworth.”
    “Oh, right.”
    “Any others?”
    “Not really. I’m more into music. Do you like Michael Jackson?”
    “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ve heard his records.”
    “He’s really cute.” She giggled. “All my friends are crazy about him.”
    It was the second time she had mentioned all my friends. Right now her peer group was the most important thing in her life. “I’d like to meet some of your friends, sometime,” he said.
    “Oh, Daddy, ” she chided him. “You wouldn’t like that—they’re just girls .”
    Feeling mildly rebuffed, Ellis concentrated on his food for a while. He drank a glass of white wine with it: French habits had stayed with him.
    When he finished he said: “Listen, I’ve been thinking. Why don’t you come to Washington and stay at my place one weekend? It’s only an hour on the plane, and we could have a good time.”
    She was quite surprised. “What’s in Washington?”
    “Well, we could take a tour of the White House, where the President lives. And Washington has some of the best museums in the whole world. And you’ve never even seen my apartment. I have a spare bedroom . . .” He trailed off. He could see she was not interested.
    “Oh, Daddy, I don’t know,” she said. “I have so much to do on weekends—homework, and parties, and shopping, and dance lessons and everything. . . .”
    Ellis hid his disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Maybe sometime when you’re not so busy you could come.”
    “Yes, okay,” she said, visibly relieved.
    “I could fix up the spare bedroom so you could come anytime you like.”
    “Okay.”
    “What color shall I paint it?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “What’s your favorite color?”
    “Pink. I guess.”
    “Pink it is.” Ellis forced a smile. “Let’s go.”
    In the car on the way home she asked him whether he would mind if she had her ears pierced.
    “I don’t know,” he said guardedly. “How does Mommy feel about it?”
    “She said it’s okay with her if it’s okay with you.” Was Gill thoughtfully including him in the decision or just passing the buck? “I don’t think I like the idea,” Ellis said. “You may be a little young to begin making holes in yourself for decoration.”
    “Do you think I’m too young to have a boyfriend?”
    Ellis wanted to say yes. She seemed far too young. But he couldn’t stop her growing up. “You’re