Burial

'Don't patronize me. You're the one who's denying the evidence.'

'Evidence

of what? A voice you think you can hear on a blank iŤ3V

tape? Jesus Christ, have you got the slightest idea how mad that sounds? I mean, even the faintest inkling?'

In the silence that followed, Nathan could hear Bob, breathing through his nostrils, until he said: 'I know about this stuff Nathan wanted to light a cigarette. Instead, he pressed on his temples with his thumb and second finger and spoke very carefully.

'Okay. We're not going to agree about this. We're just not. So answer me one question. What bearing does this have on the rest of-- the project?'

'Are you referring to the recovered materials?'

'Yes, I am referring to the recovered materials.'

'Well, obviously it changes everything. We can't just destroy them.'

Nathan stood up so abruptly the telephone lifted from the desk and hung there, spinning on its cord.

'And why not?'

'Because we need to give her a proper burial.'

'And how do you propose to do that?'

'I don't know.'

'Bob, this is totally unacceptable, this is completely unacceptable.'

'It's completely non-negotiable.'

'There's no way I'm doing this.'

'There must be a way. Even if it means we go to prison.'

I'm afraid I don't see how that would improve the situation.'

She's haunting us. Do you know what that means?'

What are you talking about?'

She's lonely. And she's angry. She's really, really angry.'

Incredibly, Bob began to snivel.

Nathan took this in. And said: 'We'll talk about this later. Don't do anything hasty. Please. Promise me that.'

Fine.'

'Hasty about what?' said Angela, who was standing in the doorway, about to offer him a cup of tea.

Nathan screamed.

31

He and Bob met in the park. They sat on a bench, watching children play. The wind flapped at the tail of Nathan's coat. He was smoking a cigarette.

Nathan said, 'Bob, what you have -- what we both have - is a burden of guilt. All right? You've got to face that. You've got to face it head-on, and you've got to deal with it. You've got to get through it.'

'I don't feel guilty. Why should I?'

'Because we both fucked a nineteen-year-old girl who died. And we buried her in secret. We buried her naked and face down in the fucking woods with our come still dripping down her legs, and nobody ever found her.'

Bob shrugged again.

'Guilt isn't the problem.'

Nathan stood. 'This is going nowhere.'

We have to bury her. No choice.'

'I have to get back to work. So let me think about this. Don't make any rash decisions. We'll work this out. Okay?'

'Fine.' Bob stood too, massive hands buried deep in the pockets of his blue-grey overcoat.

'Okay,' said Nathan.

They walked away in different directions.

Even before reaching the park gates, Nathan had called Justin's mobile. They agreed to meet in the Cricketer's in half an hour. By the time Nathan arrived, Justin was on his second pint. He stood, shaking Nathan's hand. He and Justin were always shaking hands; they shook hands half a dozen times a day. It was a ritual they had fallen into, long ago.

There were drinks waiting for him: a double whisky and a pint of lager. Nathan had downed the whisky before unbuttoning his coat.

Justin asked, 'To what do I owe the privilege this time?'

Nathan removed his coat and laid it over the empty stool. His phone rang. He turned it off. He sipped lager.

Justin said, 'I wish you'd tell me what was wrong.'

'Nothing's wrong. Except that, of all the possible best friends in the world, I end up with you.'

'It's not so bad.'

'Nah,' said Nathan. 'It's not so bad.'

He was late home. Holly was waiting. She was pretending to watch television. 'Where have you been?'

'With Justin. Having a beer.'

'Then why did Justin's secretary call to ask where you were?

Apparently there was some kind of presentation. Someone called Steve Jackson had to do it for you. There's been a bit of a fuss around the office.'

Nathan slumped in the chair.

'Fuck. I forgot.'

'Where were you?'

'With Justin.'

'Well. That's what I said to Miriam: "He's probably with Justin." But she told me Justin was in a meeting.'

'It's her job to say that. She says it a hundred and fifty times a day. It's never true.'

'I've got no reason to disbelieve her.'

'You have every reason to disbelieve her. She's Justin's PA. Her job is to lie.'

'Apparently you had your phone turned off 'That's true enough.'

'That's not like you.'

'No.'

'Are you seeing someone?'

'Excuse me?'

'Are you having an affair?'

He wanted to stand in indignation, but he was far, far too tired.

'You should know better than to ask that.'

'What am I supposed to think? You're like a different person.'

'I'm sorry.'

'If you're not seeing someone, then what is it?'

'I can't explain.'

'Is it Bob?'

'No. Why?'

'Because you haven't been yourself from the minute he came round that night. Right from the minute.'

What could he say? She was right.

She said, 'I'm going to bed.' "Me, too.'

'Whatever.'

He followed at her heel. Trying to minimize at least the physical distance between them.

32

In the morning, having gone to some effort to look and act less hungover than he felt, he told Holly, 'I'm going to see Brian.'

Brian was their family doctor; he was one of Graham's domino playing cronies.

She said, 'Good.'

Nathan knew Brian socially - they'd spoken at various fetes and barbecues and New Year's Eve parties. It was to Brian that Nathan and Holly had gone, when first trying to conceive. So he was able to book an appointment for that afternoon.

Brian was petite and aquiline and dapper -- sixty-three and unmarried.

Nathan

liked Brian - they often gravitated to one another at parties.

Nathan thought they recognized a secret in each other --although Nathan supposed his secret was not what Brian imagined.

Now Nathan described to Brian his anxiety, his inability to sleep.

'But I don't want anti-depressants. They don't work. I'll get through it without them. All I need is sleep. Just a few good nights'

sleep, and it'll be okay.'

Brian wrote Nathan a prescription for three months' supply of temazepam, telling him: 'Everyone has their ups and downs. You've probably been working too hard. I've seen it all before, more times than I can count. You need to slow down, take some time out.

Graham and June are always telling me how hard you're working.'

'You're probably right.'

'Come back and see me, if you need to.'

'I will. I will. But I'm sure I'll be fine.'

He stood outside Oakley's the Chemist while the pharmacist prepared his prescription. Wandering up and down the pavement like a polar bear in a zoo enclosure, he called Bob. Who said, 'How are you?'

'Tired. We need to talk again. Can we meet tonight? In the Plough?'

'I can be there at eight?'

'I'll see you then.'

Nathan pocketed the phone, went in to Oakley's to collect his prescription, then drove back to work. On the way, he stopped off at Travis Perkins, building suppliers, where he bought a pair of heavy duty bolt cutters.

The man behind the counter looked at Nathan in his suit and his good tie and his haircut, buying bolt cutters. Nathan smiled tightly and walked out, dangling the bolt cutters in his fist by one long handle.

He called Holly from the office. She said, 'How are you?'