Part Four Chapter I

Lunacy5.11 At common law, idiots ar subject to a permanent legal incapacity to right to vote, but persons of unsound mind may vote during lucid intervals.Charles Arnold-BakerLocal Council Administration,Seventh EditionISamantha Mollison had now bought herself any three of the DVDs released by Libbys popular boy band. She kept them hidden in her socks and tights drawer, beside her diaphragm. She had her story ready, if Miles spotted them they were a gift for Libby. sometimes at work, where business was slower than ever, she searched the internet for pictures of Jake. It was during one of these trawling sessions Jake in a suit but with no shirt, Jake in jeans and a livid vest that she discovered that the band was playing at Wembley in a fortnights time.She had a friend from university who lived in West Ealing. She could stay over, sell it to Libby as a treat, a venture to spend time to over stupefyher. With more genuine excitement than she had mat up in a long time, Samantha m anaged to grease ones palms cardinal very expensive tickets for the concert. When she let herself into the house that evening, she glowed with a delicious secret, almost as though she were coming home from a date.Miles was already in the kitchen, liquid in his work suit, with the phone in his hand. He stared at her as she entered, and his expression was strange, difficult to read.What? give tongue to Samantha, a little defensively.I cant work over hold of Dad, said Miles. His fucking(a) phones engaged. Theres been a nonher post.And when Samantha looked nonplussed, he said with a trace of impatience, Barry Fairbrothers Ghost another(prenominal) message On the council web stationOh, said Samantha, unwinding her scarf. Right.Yeah, I met Betty Rossiter just now, coming up the street she was full of it. Ive check up on the message board, but I cant see it. Mum mustve taken it down already well, I bloody hope she has, shell be in the firing line if Bends-Your-Ear goes to a lawyer. About Parminder Jawanda, was it? asked Samantha, her tone deliberately casual. She did not ask what the accusation had been, first, because she was determined not to be a nosy, gossiping old bag akin Shirley and Maureen, and secondly, because she thought she already k new that Parminder had caused the death of old Cath Weedon. After a moment or two, she asked, sounding mistily amused, Did you say your mother might be in the firing line?Well, shes the site administrator, so shes conceivable if she doesnt loaf rid of defamatory or potentially defamatory statements. Im not sure she and Dad catch how serious this could be.You could defend your mother, shed like that.But Miles had not heard he was pressing redial and scowling, because his fathers brisk was still engaged.This is getting serious, he said.You were all quite happy when it was Simon Price who was getting attacked. Whys this any different?If its a campaign against anyone on the council, or standing for council Samantha tu rned aside to hide her grin. His concern was not closely Shirley after all.But why would anyone write stuff close you? she asked innocently. You havent got any guilty secrets.You might be more bloody interesting if you had.What about that letter?What letter?For Gods Mum and Dad said in that location was a letter, an anonymous letter about me Saying I wasnt fit to fill Barry Fairbrothers shoesSamantha open up the freezer and stared at the unappetizing contents, aware that Miles could no longer see her expression with the door open.You dont ring anyones got anything on you, do you? she asked.No but Im a lawyer, arent I? There might be people with a grudge. I dont see this kind of anonymous stuff I mean, so far its all about the other side, but there could be reprisals I dont like the way this things going.Well, thats politics, Miles, said Samantha, openly amused. Dirty business.Miles stalked out of the room, but she did not thrill her thoughts had already returned to chis elled cheekbones, winged eyebrows and taut, tight abdominal muscles. She could sing along with most of the songs now. She would buy a band T-shirt to wear and one for Libby too. Jake would be undulating mere yards away from her. It would be more fun than she had had in years.Howard, meanwhile, was pacing up and down the disagreeable delicatessen with his mobile phone clamped to his ear. The blinds were down, the lights were on, and through the archway in the wall Shirley and Maureen were busy in the soon-to-be-opened cafe, unpacking china and glasses, talking in excited undertones and half listening to Howards almost monosyllabic contributions to his conversation.Yes mm, hmm yes Screaming at me, said Shirley. Screaming and swearing. Take it bloody down, she said. I said, Im taking it down, Dr Jawanda, and Ill thank you not to swear at me.Idve left(p) it up there for another couple of hours if shed sworn at me, said Maureen.Shirley smiled. As it happened, she had chosen to go and make herself a cup of tea, leaving the anonymous post about Parminder up on the site for an extra forty-five minutes before removing it. She and Maureen had already picked over the topic of the post until it was ragged and evident there was plenty of scope for further dissection, but the immediate urge was sated. Instead, Shirley looked ahead, greedily, to Parminders reaction to having her secret spilt in public.It cant have been her who did that post about Simon Price, after all, said Maureen.No, obviously not, said Shirley, as she wiped over the fairly blue and white china that she had chosen, overruling Maureens preference for pink. Sometimes, though not directly involved in the business, Shirley like to remind Maureen that she still had huge influence, as Howards wife.Yes, said Howard, on the telephone. But wouldnt it be better to ? Mm, hmm So who do you think it is? asked Maureen.I very dont know, said Shirley, in a genteel voice, as though such knowledge or suspicions were beneath her.Someone who knows the Prices and the Jawandas, said Maureen.Obviously, said Shirley again.Howard hung up at last.Aubrey agrees, he told the two women, waddling through into the cafe. He was clutching todays edition of the Yarvil and District Gazette. Very weak piece. Very weak indeed.It took the two women several seconds to recollect that they were supposed to be interested in the posthumous article by Barry Fairbrother in the local newspaper. His ghost was so much more interesting.Oh, yes well, I thought it was very execrable when I read it, said Shirley, hurriedly catching up.The interview with Krystal Weedon was funny, guffawed Maureen. Making out she enjoyed art. I suppose thats what she calls graffiti-ing the desks.Howard laughed. As an excuse to turn her back, Shirley picked up Andrew Prices spare EpiPen from the counter, which Ruth had dropped into the delicatessen that morning. Shirley had looked up EpiPens on her favourite medical website, and felt fully c ompetent to explain how adrenalin worked. Nobody asked, though, so she put the small white tube away in the cupboard and closed the door as noisily as she could to refine and disrupt Maureens further witticisms.The phone in Howards huge hand rang.Yes, hello? Oh, Miles, yes yes, we know all about it Mum saw it this morning He laughed. Yes, shes taken it down I dont know I think it was posted yesterday Oh, I wouldnt say that weve all known about Bends-Your-Ear for years But Howards humorousness faded as Miles talked. After a while he said, Ah yes, I see. Yes. No, I hadnt considered it from perhaps we should get someone to have a look at security The sound of a car in the darkening square outside went virtually unremarked by the three in the delicatessen, but its number one wood noticed the enormous shadow of Howard Mollison moving behind the cream blinds. Gavin put his foot down, eager to get to bloody shame. She had sounded desperate on the telephone.Whos doing this? Whos doing it? Who hates me this much?Nobody hates you, he had said. Who could hate you? Stay there Im coming over.He parked outside the house, slammed the door and hurried up the footpath. She opened the front door before he had even knocked. Her eyes were puffy with tears again, and she was wearing a floor-length woollen medical dressing gown that dwarfed her. It was not at all seductive the very antithesis of Kays scarlet kimono, but its homeliness, its very shabbiness, represented a new level of intimacy.Marys four children were all in the sitting room. Mary gestured him through into the kitchen.Do they know? he asked her.Fergus does. Somebody at school told him. Ive asked him not to tell the others. Honestly, Gavin Im about at the end of my tether. The spite It isnt true, he said, and then, his curiosity getting the better of him, is it?No she said, outraged. I mean I dont know I dont really know her. But to make him talk like that putting the words in his mouth dont they c are what its like for me?She dissolved into tears again. He felt that he shouldnt hug her while she was wearing her dressing gown, and was glad that he had not, when eighteen-year-old Fergus entered the kitchen a moment later.Hey, Gav.The boy looked tired, older than his years. Gavin watched him put an arm around Mary and saw her lean her head against his shoulder, mopping her eyes on her baggy sleeve like a child.I dont think it was the same person, Fergus told them, without preamble. Ive been looking at it again. The style of the message is different.He had it on his mobile phone, and began to read aloudParish Councillor Dr Parminder Jawanda, who pretends to be so keen on looking after the poor and needy of the area, has always had a secret motive. Until I died Fergus, dont, said Mary, slumping down at the kitchen knock back. I cant take it. I honestly cant. And his article in the paper today too.As she covered her face with her pass on and sobbed silently, Gavin noticed the Ya rvil and District Gazette lying there. He never read it. Without asking or offering, he moved across to the cupboard to make her a drink.Thanks, Gav, she said thickly, when he pushed the glass into her hand.It might be Howard Mollison, suggested Gavin, sitting down beside her. From what Barry said about him.I dont think so, said Mary, dabbing at her eyes. Its so crude. He never did anything like that when Barry was - she hiccuped - alive. And then she snapped at her son, Throw that paper away, Fergus.The boy looked confused and hurt.Its got Dads Throw it away said Mary, with an edge of hysteria in her voice. I can read it off the computer if I want to, the last thing he ever did on our anniversaryFergus took the newspaper off the table and stood for a moment watching his mother, who had buried her face in her hands again. Then, with a glance at Gavin, he walked out of the room still holding the Gazette.After a while, when Gavin judged that Fergus was not coming back, he put out a consoling hand and rubbed Marys arm. They sat in silence for some time, and Gavin felt much happier with the newspaper gone from the table.