首发偶发空缺 (临时空缺)-第110章

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is　parents　had　had　an　offer　on　Hilltop　House　with　at　least　as　much　excitement　as　pain。

The　sweeping　turn　into　Church　Row；　usually　made　with　an　uplift　of　spirits；　dampened　them。　He　could　see　people　moving　around　in　the　graveyard；　and　he　wondered　what　this　funeral　was　going　to　be　like；　and　for　the　first　time　that　morning　thought　of　Krystal　Weedon　in　more　than　the　abstract。

A　memory；　long　buried　in　the　deepest　recesses　of　his　mind；　came　back　to　him；　of　that　time　in　the　playground　at　St　Thomas’s；　when　Fats；　in　a　spirit　of　disinterested　investigation；　had　handed　him　a　peanut　hidden　inside　a　marshmallow　…　he　could　still　feel　his　burning　throat　closing　inexorably。　He　remembered　trying　to　yell；　and　his　knees　giving　way；　and　the　children　all　around　him；　watching　with　a　strange；　bloodless　interest；　and　then　Krystal　Weedon’s　raucous　scream。

‘Andiprice　iz　’avin’　a　’lurgycacshun！’

She　had　run；　on　her　stocky　little　legs；　all　the　way　to　the　staff　room；　and　the　headmaster　had　snatched　Andrew　up　and　sprinted　with　him　to　the　nearby　surgery；　where　Dr　Crawford　had　administered　adrenalin。　She　was　the　only　one　who　had　remembered　the　talk　that　their　teacher　had　given　the　class；　explaining　Andrew’s　life…threatening　condition；　the　only　one　to　recognize　his　symptoms。

Krystal　ought　to　have　been　given　a　gold　merit　star；　and　perhaps　a　certificate　at　assembly　as　Pupil　of　the　Week；　but　the　very　next　day　（Andrew　remembered　it　as　clearly　as　his　own　collapse）　she　had　hit　Lexie　Mollison　so　hard　in　the　mouth　that　she　had　knocked　out　two　of　Lexie’s　teeth。

He　wheeled　Simon’s　bike　carefully　into　the　Walls’　garage；　then　rang　the　doorbell　with　a　reluctance　that　had　never　been　there　before。　Tessa　Wall　answered；　dressed　in　her　best　grey　coat。　Andrew　was　annoyed　with　her；　it　was　down　to　her　that　he　had　a　black　eye。

‘e　in；　Andy；’　said　Tessa；　and　her　expression　was　tense。　‘We’ll　just　be　a　minute。’

He　waited　in　the　hallway；　where　the　coloured　glass　over　the　door　cast　its　paintboxy　glow　on　the　floorboards。　Tessa　marched　into　the　kitchen；　and　Andrew　glimpsed　Fats　in　his　black　suit；　crumpled　up　in　a　kitchen　chair　like　a　crushed　spider；　with　one　arm　over　his　head；　as　if　he　were　fending　off　blows。

Andrew　turned　his　back。　The　two　boys　had　had　no　munication　since　Andrew　had　led　Tessa　to　the　Cubby　Hole。　Fats　had　not　been　to　school　for　a　fortnight。　Andrew　had　sent　a　couple　of　texts；　but　Fats　had　not　replied。　His　Facebook　page　remained　frozen　as　it　had　been　on　the　day　of　Howard　Mollison’s　party。

A　week　ago；　without　warning；　Tessa　had　telephoned　the　Prices；　told　them　that　Fats　had　admitted　to　having　posted　the　messages　under　the　name　The_Ghost_of_Barry_Fairbrother；　and　offered　her　deepest　apologies　for　the　consequences　they　had　suffered。

‘So　how　did　he　know　I　had　that　puter？’　Simon　had　roared；　advancing　on　Andrew。　‘How　did　fucking　Fats　Wall　know　I　did　jobs　after…hours　at　the　printworks？’

Andrew’s　only　consolation　was　that　if　his　father　had　known　the　truth；　he　might　have　ignored　Ruth’s　protests　and　continued　to　pummel　Andrew　until　he　was　unconscious。

Why　Fats　had　decided　to　pretend　he　had　authored　all　the　posts；　Andrew　did　not　know。　Perhaps　it　was　Fats’　ego　at　work；　his　determination　to　be　the　mastermind；　the　most　destructive；　the　baddest　of　them　all。　Perhaps　he　had　thought　he　was　doing　something　noble；　taking　the　fall　for　both　of　them。　Either　way；　Fats　had　caused　much　more　trouble　than　he　knew；　he　had　never　realized；　thought　Andrew；　waiting　in　the　hall；　what　it　was　like　to　live　with　a　father　like　Simon　Price；　safe　in　his　attic　room；　with　his　reasonable；　civilized　parents。

Andrew　could　hear　the　adult　Walls　talking　in　quiet　voices；　they　had　not　closed　the　kitchen　door。

‘We　need　to　leave　now；’　Tessa　was　saying。　‘He’s　got　a　moral　obligation　and　he’s　going。’

‘He’s　had　enough　punishment；’　said　Cubby’s　voice。

‘I’m　not　asking　him　to　go　as　a—’

‘Aren’t　you？’　said　Cubby　sharply。　‘For　God’s　sake；　Tessa。　D’you　think　they’ll　want　him　there？　You　go。　Stu　can　stay　here　with　me。’

A　minute　later　Tessa　emerged　from　the　kitchen；　closing　the　door　firmly　behind　her。

‘Stu　isn’t　ing；　Andy；’　she　said；　and　he　could　tell　that　she　was　furious　about　it。　‘I’m　sorry　about　that。’

‘No　problem；’　he　muttered。　He　was　glad。　He　could　not　imagine　what　they　had　left　to　talk　about。　This　way　he　could　sit　with　Gaia。

A　little　way　down　Church　Row；　Samantha　Mollison　was　standing　at　her　sitting…room　window；　holding　a　coffee　and　watching　mourners　pass　her　house　on　their　way　to　St　Michael　and　All　Saints。　When　she　saw　Tessa　Wall；　and　what　she　thought　was　Fats；　she　let　out　a　little　gasp。

‘Oh　my　God；　he’s　going；’　she　said　out　loud；　to　nobody。

Then　she　recognized　Andrew；　turned　red；　and　backed　hastily　away　from　the　glass。

Samantha　was　supposed　to　be　working　from　home。　Her　laptop　lay　open　behind　her　on　the　sofa；　but　that　morning　she　had　put　on　an　old　black　dress；　half　wondering　whether　she　would　attend　Krystal　and　Robbie　Weedon’s　funeral。　She　supposed　that　she　had　only　a　few　more　minutes　in　which　to　make　up　her　mind。

She　had　never　spoken　a　kind　word　about　Krystal　Weedon；　so　surely　it　would　be　hypocritical　to　attend　her　funeral；　purely　because　she　had　wept　over　the　account　of　her　death　in　the　Yarvil　and　District　Gazette；　and　because　Krystal’s　chubby　face　grinned　out　of　every　one　of　the　class　photographs　that　Lexie　had　brought　home　from　St　Thomas’s？

Samantha　set　down　her　coffee；　hurried　to　the　telephone　and　rang　Miles　at　work。

‘Hello；　babe；’　he　said。

（She　had　held　him　while　he　sobbed　with　relief　beside　the　hospital　bed；　where　Howard　lay　connected　to　machines；　but　alive。）

‘Hi；’　she　said。　‘How　are　you？’

‘Not　bad。　Busy　morning。　Lovely　to　hear　from　you；’　he　said。　‘Are　you　all　right？’

（They　had　made　love　the　previous　night；　and　she　had　not　pretended　that　he　was　anybody　else。）

‘The　funeral’s　about　to　start；’　said　Samantha。　‘People　going　by　…’

She　had　suppressed　what　she　wanted　to　say　for　nearly　three　weeks；　because　of　Howard；　and　the　hospital；　and　not　wanting　to　remind　Miles　of　their　awful　row；　but　she　could　not　hold　it　back　any　longer。

‘…　Miles；　I　saw　that　boy。　Robbie　Weedon。　I　saw　him；　Miles。’　She　was　panicky；　pleading。　‘He　was　in　the　St　Thomas’s　playing　field　when　I　walked　across　it　that　morning。’

‘In　the　playing　field？’

In　the　last　three　weeks；　a　desire　to　be　absorbed　in　something　bigger　than　herself　had　grown　in　Samantha。　Day　by　day　she　had　waited　for　the　strange　new　need　to　subside　（this　is　how　people　go　religious；　she　thought；　trying　to　laugh　herself　out　of　it）　but　it　had；　if　anything；　intensified。

‘Miles；’　she　said；　‘you　know　the　council　…　with　your　dad　–　and　Parminder　Jawanda　resigning　too　–　you’ll　want　to　co…opt　a　couple　of　people；　won’t　you？’　She　knew　all　the　terminology；　she　had　listened　to　it　for　years。　‘I　mean；　you　won’t　want　another　election；　after　all　this？’

‘Bloody　hell；　no。’

‘So　Colin　Wall　could　fill　one　seat；’　she　rushed　on；　‘and　I　was　thinking；　I’ve　got　time　–　now　the　business　is　all　online　–　I　could　do　the　other　one。’

‘You？’　said　Miles；　astonished。

‘I’d　like　to　get　involved；’　said　Samantha。

Krystal　Weedon；　dead　at　sixteen；　barricaded　inside　the　squalid　little　house　on　Foley　Road　…　Samantha　had　not　drunk　a　glass　of　wine　in　two　weeks。　She　thought　that　she　might　like　to　hear　the　arguments　for　Bellchapel　Addiction　Clinic。

The　telephone　was　ringing　in　number　ten　Hope　Street。　Kay　and　Gaia　were　already　late　leaving　for　Krystal’s　funeral。　When　Gaia　asked　who　was　speaking；　her　lovely　face　hardened：　she　seemed　much　older。

‘It’s　Gavin；’　she　told　her　mother。

‘I　didn’t　call　him！’　whispered　Kay；　like　a　nervous　schoolgirl　as　she　took　the　phone。

‘Hi；’　said　Gavin。　‘How　are　you？’

‘On　my　way　out　to　a　funeral；’　said　Kay；　with　her　eyes　locked　on　her　daughter’s。　‘The　Weedon　children’s。　So；　not　fabulous。’

‘Oh；’　said　Gavin。　‘Christ；　yeah。　Sorry。　I　didn’t　realize。’

He　had　spotted　the　familiar　surname　in　a　Yarvil　and　District　Gazette　headline；　and；　vaguely　interested　at　last；　bought　a　copy。　It　had　occurred　to　him　that　he　might　have　walked　close　by　the　place　where　the　teenagers　an