首发偶发空缺 (临时空缺)-第44章

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er　learned　to　talk？

He　had　dribbled　snot　onto　the　back　of　her　top。

‘Sorry；’　he　said　thickly；　wiping　it　away　with　his　napkin。

He　withdrew　from　her　and　blew　his　nose。　She　dragged　her　chair　to　sit　beside　him　and　put　a　hand　on　his　arm。　He　liked　her　so　much　better　when　she　was　silent；　and　her　face　was　soft　and　concerned；　as　it　was　now。

‘I　still　can’t　…　he　was　a　good　bloke；’　he　said。　‘Barry。　He　was　a　good　bloke。’

‘Yes；　everyone　says　that　about　him；’　said　Kay。

She　had　never　been　allowed　to　meet　this　famous　Barry　Fairbrother；　but　she　was　intrigued　by　the　show　of　emotion　from　Gavin；　and　by　the　person　who　had　caused　it。

‘Was　he　funny？’　she　asked；　because　she　could　imagine　Gavin　in　thrall　to　a　edian；　to　a　rowdy　ringleader；　propping　up　the　bar。

‘Yeah；　I　s’pose。　Well；　not　particularly。　Normal。　He　liked　a　laugh　…　but　he　was　just　such　a　…　such　a　nice　bloke。　He　liked　people；　you　know？’

She　waited；　but　Gavin　did　not　seem　able　to　elucidate　further　on　the　niceness　of　Barry。

‘And　the　kids　…　and　Mary　…　poor　Mary　…　God；　you’ve　got　no　idea。’

Kay　continued　to　pat　his　arm　gently；　but　her　sympathy　had　chilled　a　little。　No　idea；　she　thought；　what　it　was　to　be　alone？　No　idea　how　hard　it　was　to　be　left　in　sole　charge　of　a　family？　Where　was　his　pity　for　her；　Kay？

‘They　were　really　happy；’　said　Gavin；　in　a　cracked　voice。　‘She’s　in　pieces。’

Wordlessly；　Kay　stroked　his　arm；　reflecting　that　she　had　never　been　able　to　afford　to　go　to　pieces。

‘I’m　all　right；’　he　said；　wiping　his　nose　on　his　napkin　and　picking　up　his　fork。　By　the　smallest　of　twitches；　he　indicated　that　she　should　remove　her　hand。

V
Alison　Jenkins；　the　journalist　from　the　Yarvil　and　District　Gazette；　had　at　last　established　which　of　the　many　Weedon　households　in　Yarvil　housed　Krystal。　It　had　been　difficult：　nobody　was　registered　to　vote　at　the　address　and　no　landline　number　was　listed　for　the　property。　Alison　visited　Foley　Road　in　person　on　Sunday；　but　Krystal　was　out；　and　Terri；　suspicious　and　antagonistic；　refused　to　say　when　she　would　be　back　or　confirm　that　she　lived　there。

Krystal　arrived　home　a　mere　twenty　minutes　after　the　journalist　had　departed　in　her　car；　and　she　and　her　mother　had　another　row。

‘Why　din’t　ya　tell　her　to　wait？　She　was　gonna　interview　me　abou’　the　Fields　an’　stuff！’

‘Interview　you？　Fuck　off。　Wha’　the　fuck　for？’

The　argument　escalated　and　Krystal　walked　out　again；　off　to　Nikki’s；　with　Terri’s　mobile　in　her　tracksuit　bottoms。　She　frequently　made　off　with　this　phone；　many　rows　were　triggered　by　her　mother　demanding　it　back　and　Krystal　pretending　that　she　didn’t　know　where　it　was。　Dimly；　Krystal　hoped　that　the　journalist　might　know　the　number　somehow　and　call　her　directly。

She　was　in　a　crowded；　jangling　café　in　the　shopping　centre；　telling　Nikki　and　Leanne　all　about　the　journalist；　when　the　mobile　rang。

‘’Oo？　Are　you　the　journalist；　like？’

‘…　o’s　’at　…　’erri？’

‘It’s　Krystal。　’Oo’s　this？’

‘…　’m　your　…　’nt　…　other　…　’ister。’

‘’Oo？’　shouted　Krystal。　One　finger　in　the　ear　not　pressed　against　the　phone；　she　wove　her　way　between　the　densely　packed　tables　to　reach　a　quieter　place。

‘Danielle；’　said　the　woman；　loud　and　clear　on　the　other　end　of　the　telephone。　‘I’m　yer　mum’s　sister。’

‘Oh；　yeah；’　said　Krystal；　disappointed。

Fuckin’　snobby　bitch；　Terri　always　said　when　Danielle’s　name　came　up。　Krystal　was　not　sure　that　she　had　ever　met　Danielle。

‘It’s　abou’　your　Great　Gran。’

‘’Oo？’

‘Nana　Cath；’　said　Danielle　impatiently。　Krystal　reached　the　balcony　overlooking　the　shopping　centre　forecourt；　reception　was　strong　here；　she　stopped。

‘Wha’s　wrong　with　’er？’　said　Krystal。　It　felt　as　though　her　stomach　was　flipping　over；　the　way　it　had　done　as　a　little　girl；　turning　somersaults　on　a　railing　like　the　one　in　front　of　her。　Thirty　feet　below；　the　crowds　surged；　carrying　plastic　bags；　pushing　buggies　and　dragging　toddlers。

‘She’s　in　South　West　General。　She’s　been　there　a　week。　She’s　had　a　stroke。’

‘She’s　bin　there　a　week？’　said　Krystal；　her　stomach　still　swooping。　‘Nobody　told　us。’

‘Yeah；　well；　she　can’t　speak　prop’ly；　but　she’s　said　your　name　twice。’

‘Mine？’　asked　Krystal；　clutching　the　mobile　tightly。

‘Yeah。　I　think　she’d　like　to　see　yeh。　It’s　serious。　They’re　sayin’　she　migh’　not　recover。’

‘Wha’　ward　is　it？’　asked　Krystal；　her　mind　buzzing。

‘Twelve。　High…dependency。　Visiting　hours　are　twelve　till　four；　six　till　eight。　All　righ’？’

‘Is　it—？’

‘I　gotta　go。　I　only　wanted　to　let　you　know；　in　case　you　want　to　see　her。　’Bye。’

The　line　went　dead。　Krystal　lowered　the　mobile　from　her　ear；　staring　at　the　screen。　She　pressed　a　button　repeatedly　with　her　thumb；　until　she　saw　the　word　‘blocked’。　Her　aunt　had　withheld　her　number。

Krystal　walked　back　to　Nikki　and　Leanne。　They　knew　at　once　that　something　was　wrong。

‘Go　an’　see　’er；’　said　Nikki；　checking　the　time　on　her　own　mobile。　‘Yeh’ll　ge’　there　fer　two。　Ge’　the　bus。’

‘Yeah；’　said　Krystal　blankly。

She　thought　of　fetching　her　mother；　of　taking　her　and　Robbie　to　go　and　see　Nana　Cath　too；　but　there　had　been　a　huge　row　a　year　before；　and　her　mother　and　Nana　Cath　had　had　no　contact　since。　Krystal　was　sure　that　Terri　would　take　an　immense　amount　of　persuading　to　go　to　the　hospital；　and　was　not　sure　that　Nana　Cath　would　be　happy　to　see　her。

It’s　serious。　They’re　saying　she　might　not　recover。

‘’Ave　yeh　gor　enough　cash？’　said　Leanne；　rummaging　in　her　pockets　as　the　three　of　them　walked　up　the　road　towards　the　bus　stop。

‘Yeah；’　said　Krystal；　checking。　‘It’s　on’y　a　quid　up　the　hospital；　innit？’

They　had　time　to　share　a　cigarette　before　the　number　twenty…seven　arrived。　Nikki　and　Leanne　waved　her　off　as　though　she　were　going　somewhere　nice。　At　the　very　last　moment；　Krystal　felt　scared　and　wanted　to　shout　‘e　with　me！’　But　then　the　bus　pulled　away　from　the　kerb；　and　Nikki　and　Leanne　were　already　turning　away；　gossiping。

The　seat　was　prickly；　covered　in　some　old　smelly　fabric。　The　bus　trundled　onto　the　road　that　ran　by　the　precinct　and　turned　right　into　one　of　the　main　thoroughfares　that　led　through　all　the　big…name　shops。

Fear　fluttered　inside　Krystal’s　belly　like　a　foetus。　She　had　known　that　Nana　Cath　was　getting　older　and　frailer；　but　somehow；　vaguely；　she　had　expected　her　to　regenerate；　to　return　to　the　heyday　that　had　seemed　to　last　so　long；　for　her　hair　to　turn　black　again；　her　spine　to　straighten　and　her　memory　to　sharpen　like　her　caustic　tongue。　She　had　never　thought　about　Nana　Cath　dying；　always　associating　her　with　toughness　and　invulnerability。　If　she　had　considered　them　at　all；　Krystal　would　have　thought　of　the　deformity　to　Nana　Cath’s　chest；　and　the　innumerable　wrinkles　criss…crossing　her　face；　as　honourable　scars　sustained　during　her　successful　battle　to　survive。　Nobody　close　to　Krystal　had　ever　died　of　old　age。

（Death　came　to　the　young　in　her　mother’s　circle；　sometimes　even　before　their　faces　and　bodies　had　bee　emaciated　and　ravaged。　The　body　that　Krystal　had　found　in　the　bathroom　when　she　was　six　had　been　of　a　handsome　young　man；　as　white　and　lovely　as　a　statue；　or　that　was　how　she　remembered　him。　But　sometimes　she　found　that　memory　confusing　and　doubted　it。　It　was　hard　to　know　what　to　believe。　She　had　often　heard　things　as　a　child　that　adults　later　contradicted　and　denied。　She　could　have　sworn　that　Terri　had　said；　‘It　was　yer　dad。’　But　then；　much　later；　she　had　said；　‘Don’　be　so　silly。　Yer　dad’s　not　dead；　’e’s　in　Bristol；　innee？’　So　Krystal　had　had　to　try　and　reattach　herself　to　the　idea　of　Banger；　which　was　what　everybody　called　the　man　they　said　was　her　father。

But　always；　in　the　background；　there　had　been　Nana　Cath。　She　had　escaped　foster　care　because　of　Nana　Cath；　ready　and　waiting　in　Pagford；　a　strong　if　unfortable　safety　。　Swearing　and　furious；　she　had　swooped；　equally　aggressive　to　Terri　and　to　the　social　workers；　and　taken　her　equally　angry　great…granddaughter　home。

Krystal　did　not　know　whether　she　had　loved　or　hated　that　little　house　in　Hope　Street。　It　was　dingy　and　it　smelt　of　bleach；　it　gave　you　a　hemmed…in　feeling。　At　the　same　tim