Burial

Unutterable panic flitted across Justin's big baby face.

Then he said, 'I can't let you do that. Not in your state.'

'In what state?'

'Look at you. You're on the edge.'

'Why don't you talk to me about it?'

'There's nothing to talk about.'

'I can't let you see Georgia. Not in your present condition. There's too much at stake. She's an important customer.'

'Okay. Fine. Whatever.'

'Is it a woman?'

'Is what a woman?'

'It.'

'It's not a woman. It's not an anything. I'm fine.'

Justin said: 'What are you doing for lunch?'

This was the question Nathan dreaded above all others.

Justin took lunch in one of a number of local pubs. For the sake of appearances, he'd order a square of lasagne, then ignore it while he worked his way through six pints of lager and a packet of cigarettes.

Often, lunch was followed by an afternoon 'meeting' or two, in the same venue.

He'd return to the office with his tie loose and his shirt untucked and his shoelaces untied.

'I'm sorry,' said Nathan. 'I'm really, really busy. Really busy.'

'Busy with what?'

'I have lunch with marketing.'

'The marketing lunch is tomorrow.'

'This is a pre-lunch lunch. We want to finesse the agenda for tomorrow's meeting.'

'Okay. Let's do that, then.'

Nathan gave up. He said, 'Give me five minutes', then hurried upstairs to the marketing department.

He found Amrita at her desk, eating a Pret a Manger sandwich and typing an email one-handed. Otherwise the floor was empty.

Nathan sat, telling her: 'I'm in trouble.'

Amrita turned on her swivel chair. 'God. I've been meaning to call you. I thought Justin was going to die. The fat lying bastard.'

'The fat lying bastard has invited himself to lunch.'

Amrita laughed, spitting a mouthful of damp breadcrumbs. She tutted and brushed them from her keyboard.

She said, 'That'll be nice for you.'

'Lunch with me and you. I used you as an excuse. Sorry.'

'I'm not having lunch with Justin. I have a sandwich.'

'Please.'

'Last time, he came back from the toilet with a wet patch on his trousers. I nearly threw up.'

'I know. Really.'

'And he touches my knee.'

'I know.'

'What did you think you were doing, saying yes?'

'He trapped me with his cunning.'

Amrita took another, pointed bite of BUT and said, 'You're not really on top form, are you?'

'What does that mean?'

'You sat through the meeting like this . . .'

She made a dreamy face and rolled her head round on a loose neck.

'. . . like you were somewhere else. You took about ten minutes to answer a question. And you called Justin a liar.'

'I didn't.'

'Good as.'

'He is a liar.'

Amrita crossed her legs, brushed crumbs away. 'Tough tits, I'm afraid. I'm busy.'

'Please.'

'No.'

'Please please.'

'No.'

'PI--'

'No.'

She returned, sandwich in hand, to whatever she was typing.

Nathan wondered how long Justin would keep him this time. Two and a half hours was about average. But Justin was upset, so it would probably be longer.

On Wednesday night, he met Holly in a blue-lit cocktail bar for a pre-dinner drink.

Nathan hadn't known what to wear. In the end, he'd asked Amrita's advice and they'd sneaked out after the marketing meeting to buy him some new shoes and what she called a funky shirt.

Holly sat on a chrome bar stool, stirring a drink set down on the radiant glass bar. She was wearing a little black dress. He sat next to her.

'Hello.'

He wasn't sure if he was expected to kiss her cheek, or what?

Helpfully, she glanced back into her drink and stirred it with a complimentary plastic swizzle stick.

Nathan said, 'Am I late?'

She said, 'Probably not,' and he knew something was wrong.

He set his coat, folded, on the empty stool next to him and ordered a margarita.

She said, 'I'm really sorry. I'm early for everything. I get it from my dad. He's got this punctuality thing.'

', Nathan said, 'Are you okay? Or would you like another drink?' 'I'm okay. I'm fine for the moment. Thanks.'

He could tell this was not her first drink of the evening. I' He said, 'Well, this is weird.'

She looked at him with an expression that Nathan should not have been able to understand. But he understood it, all right.

'What's weird ?'

'I've never been for a drink with my estate agent before.'

She smiled, but there was something dutiful and tired about it.

They watched the barman prepare Nathan's drink. When it arrived, with an unnecessary flourish, he took a sip, then said: 'Are you sure you're okay? You seem a little--'

'I'm fine. Really.'

'Tough day?'

She reached out and, as if he had asked her a child's question, patted the back of his hand. I 'It's not so much that.'

? He took another sip. He wished he'd ordered a gin and tonic. 'You can tell me about it, if you like.'

'Can I have a cigarette?'

'Don't ask me that. You gave up.'

'Go on. Just one.'

He laid the pack on the bar.

'Take as many as you like. But I won't offer you one.'

She took a cigarette, brushed a trailing lock of hair behind her ear.

She tipped her head sideways to light it and exhaled with great, grim satisfaction.

'Look . . .'

'What?'

'I don't really do this.'

'Do what?'

He grinned, as if he were exasperated. But really he was scared.

She said, 'I think you're a really nice man . . .'

'That's because you haven't got to know me yet.'

She chuckled, and then her eyes welled. She took another puff on the cigarette.

Nathan didn't know what to do with his hands. He laid them flat on the bar.

'It's just difficult at the moment,' she said. 'If the timing was better--'

'What? Are you married or something? Have you got a boyfriend ?'

She brushed back her hair again.

'God, I kind of wish it was that. It would be great, if all I had was a boyfriend.'

She stubbed out the cigarette and Nathan said, 'Okay, you've got to help me out here. Just a little bit.'

'May I have another cigarette?'

He pushed the pack towards her with his fingertips. They each lit a fresh cigarette.

Holly said, 'Look. I don't know how to say this. It's a bit weird.

Everyone I know already knows. So I've never actually had to tell anybody about it.'

Indecorously, she wiped her nose with the back of her hand and said, 'Okay. Say it. Four years ago. More than four years ago now, Jesus. Anyway. Four years ago, my sister . . .'

She couldn't bear to say the words, any more than Nathan could bear to hear them.

'Well, my sister sort of disappeared.'

It took strength to face her.

He said, 'Oh, Jesus. That's awful. I'm sorry.'

But she wasn't looking at him. He watched her profile. She wasn't seeing the bar any longer. She was seeing Mark Derbyshire's party.

'She went out one night. To a party. And she just never came home.'

'I don't know what to say.'

'The police searched for her. They even thought they knew who did it. But there wasn't enough evidence. And they never found her.

There was no body or anything. So really, we still don't know.'

They sat in silence and watched the barman, a handsome young Australian with an easy smile, shake a cocktail then pour three drinks for a cackling hen party at the far end of the bar.

'Jesus,' said Nathan.

Holly drained her drink. 'I'm sorry to do this to you.'