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‘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　time；　it　was　safe；　entirely　safe。　Nana　Cath　would　only　let　approved　individuals　in　through　the　door。　There　were　old…fashioned　bath　cubes　in　a　glass　jar　on　the　end　of　the　bath。）

What　if　there　were　other　people　at　Nana　Cath’s　bedside；　when　she　got　there？　She　would　not　recognize　half　her　own　family；　and　the　idea　that　she　might　e　across　strangers　tied　to　her　by　blood　scared　her。　Terri　had　several　half…sisters；　products　of　her　father’s　multiple　liaisons；　whom　even　Terri　had　never　met；　but　Nana　Cath　tried　to　keep　up　with　them　all；　doggedly　maintaining　contact　with　the　large　disconnected　family　her　sons　had　produced。　Occasionally；　over　the　years；　relatives　Krystal　did　not　recognize　had　turned　up　at　Nana　Cath’s　while　she　was　there。　Krystal　thought　that　they　eyed　her　askance　and　said　things　about　her　under　their　voices　to　Nana　Cath；　she　pretended　not　to　notice　and　waited　for　them　to　leave；　so　that　she　could　have　Nana　Cath　to　herself　again。　She　especially　disliked　the　idea　that　there　were　any　other　children　in　Nana　Cath’s　life。

（‘’Oo　are　they？’　Krystal　had　asked　Nana　Cath　when　she　was　nine；　pointing　jealously　at　a　framed　photograph　of　two　boys　in　Paxton　High　uniforms　on　Nana　Cath’s　sideboard。

‘Them’s　two　o’　my　great…grandsons；’　said　Nana　Cath。　‘Tha’s　Dan　and　tha’s　Ricky。　They’re　your　cousins。’

Krystal　did　not　want　them　as　cousins；　and　she　did　not　want　them　on　Nana　Cath’s　sideboard。

‘An’　who’s　tha’？’　she　demanded；　pointing　at　a　little　girl　with　curly　golden　hair。

‘Tha’s　my　Michael’s　little　girl；　Rhiannon；　when　she　were　five。　Beau’iful；　weren’t　she？　Bu’　she　wen’　an’　married　some　wog；’　said　Nana　Cath。

There　had　never　been　a　photograph　of　Robbie　on　Nana　Cath’s　sideboard。

Yeh　don’t　even　know　who　the　father　is；　do　yeh；　yer　whore？　I’m　washin’　my　’ands　of　yeh。　I’ve　’ad　enough；　Terri；　I’ve　’ad　it：　you　can　look　after　it　yourself。）

The　bus　trundled　on　through　town；　past　all　the　Sunday　afternoon　shoppers。　When　Krystal　had　been　small；　Terri　had　taken　her　into　the　centre　of　Yarvil　nearly　every　weekend；　forcing　her　into　a　pushchair　long　past　the　age　when　Krystal　needed　it；　because　it　was　so　much　easier　to　hide　nicked　stuff　with　a　pushchair；　push　it　down　under　the　kid’s　legs；　hide　it　under　the　bags　in　the　basket　under　the　seat。　Sometimes　Terri　would　go　on　tandem　shoplifting　trips　with　the　sister　she　spoke　to；　Cheryl；　who　was　married　to　Shane　Tully。　Cheryl　and　Terri　lived　four　streets　away　from　each　other　in　the　Fields；　and　petrified　the　air　with　their　language　when　they　argued；　which　was　frequently。　Krystal　never　knew　whether　she　and　her　Tully　cousins　were　supposed　to　be　on　speaking　terms　or　not；　and　no　longer　bothered　keeping　track；　but　she　spoke　to　Dane　whenever　she　ran　across　him。　They　had　shagged；　once；　after　splitting　a　bottle　of　cider　out　on　the　rec　when　they　were　fourteen。　Neither　of　them　had　ever　mentioned　it　afterwards。　Krystal　was　hazy　on　whether　or　not　it　was　legal；　doing　your　cousin。　Something　Nikki　had　said　had　made　her　think　that　maybe　it　wasn’t。

The　bus　rolled　up　the　road　that　led　to　the　main　entrance　of　South　West　General；　and　stopped　twenty　yards　from　an　enormous　long　rectangular　grey　and　glass　building。　There　were　patches　of　neat　grass；　a　few　small　trees　and　a　forest　of　signposts。

Krystal　followed　two　old　ladies　out　of　the　bus　and　stood　with　her　hands　in　her　tracksuit　pockets；　looking　around。　She　had　already　forgotten　what　kind　of　ward　Danielle　had　told　her　Nana　Cath　was　on；　she　recalled　only　the　number　twelve。　She　approached　the　nearest　signpost　with　a　casual　air；　squinting　at　it　almost　incidentally：　it　bore　line　upon　line　of　imperable　print；　with　words　as　long　as　Krystal’s　arm　and　arrows　pointing　left；　right；　diagonally。　Krystal　did　not　read　well；　being　confronted　with　large　quantities　of　words　made　her　feel　intimidated　and　aggressive。　After　several　surreptitious　glances　at　the　arrows；　she　decided　that　there　were　no　numbers　there　at　all；　so　she　followed　the　two　old　ladies　towards　the　double　glass　doors　at　the　front　of　the　main　building。

The　foyer　was　crowded　and　more　confusing　than　the　signposts。　There　was　a　bustling　shop；　which　was　separated　from　the　main　hall　by　floor　to　ceiling　windows；　there　were　rows　of　plastic　chairs；　which　seemed　to　be　full　of　people　eating　sandwiches；　there　was　a　packed　café　in　the　corner；　and　a　kind　of　hexagonal　counter　in　the　middle　of　the　floor；　where　women　were　answering　enquiries　as　they　checked　their　puters。　Krystal　headed　there；　her　hands　still　in　her　pockets。

‘Where’s　ward　twelve？’　Krystal　asked　one　of　the　women　in　a　surly　voice。

‘Third　floor；’　said　the　woman；　matching　her　tone。

Krystal　did　not　want　to　ask　anything　else　out　of　pride；　so　she　turned　and　walked　away；　until　she　spotted　lifts　at　the　far　end　of　the　foyer　and　entered　one　going　up。

It　took　her　nearly　fifteen　minutes　to　find　the　ward。　Why　didn’t　they　put　up　numbers　and　arrows；　not　these　stupid　long　words？　But　then；　walking　along　a　pale　green　corridor　with　her　trainers　squeaking　on　the　linoleum　floor；　someone　called　her　name。

‘Krystal？’

It　was　her　aunt　Cheryl；　big　and　broad　in　a　denim　skirt　and　tight　white　vest；　with　banana…yellow　black…rooted　hair。　She　was　tattooed　from　her　knuckles　to　the　tops　of　her　thick　arms；　and　wore　multiple　gold　hoops　like　curtain　rings　in　each　ear。　There　was　a　can　of　Coke　in　her　hand。

‘She　ain’　bothered；　then？’　said　Cheryl。　Her　bare　legs　were　planted　firmly　apart；　like　a　sentry　guard。

‘’Oo？’

‘Terri。　She　din’　wanna　e？’

‘She　don’　know　ye’。　I　on’y　jus’　’eard。　Danielle　called　an’　tole　me。’

Cheryl　ripped　off　the　ring…pull　and　slurped　Coke；　her　tiny　eyes　sunken　in　a　wide；　flat　face　that　was　mottled　like　corned　beef；　scrutinizing　Krystal　over　the　top　of　the　can。

‘I　tole　Danielle　ter　call　yeh　when　it　’appened。　Three　days　she　were　lyin’　in　the　’ouse；　and　no　one　fuckin’　found　’er。　The　state　of　’er。　Fuckin’　’ell。’

Krystal　did　not　ask　Cheryl　why　she　herself　had　not　walked　the　short　distance　to　Foley　Road　to　tell　Terri　the　news。　Evidently　the　sisters　had　fallen　out　again。　It　was　impossible　to　keep　up。

‘Where　is　she？’　asked　Krystal。

Cheryl　led　the　way；　her　flip…flops　making　a　slapping　noise　on　the　floor。

‘Hey；’　she　said；　as　they　walked。　‘I　’ad　a　call　fr’m　a　journalist　about　you。’

‘Didja？’

‘She　give　me　a　number。’

Krystal　would　have　asked　more　questions；　but　they　had　entered　a　very　quiet　ward；　and　she　was　suddenly　frightened。　She　did　not　like　the　smell。

Nana　Cath　was　almost　unrecognizable。　One　side　of　her　face　was　terribly　twisted；　as　though　the　muscles　had　been　pulled　with　a　wire。　Her　mouth　dragged　to　one　side；　even　her　eye　seemed　to　droop。　There　were　tubes　taped　to　her；　a　needle　in　her　arm。　Lying　down；　the　deformity　in　her　chest　was　much　more　obvious。　The　sheet　rose　and　fell　in　odd　places；　as　if　the　grotesque　head　on　its　scrawny　neck　protruded　from　a　barrel。

When　Krystal　sat　down　beside　her；　Nana　Cath　made　no　movement。　She　simply　gazed。　One　little　hand　trembled　slightly。

‘She　ain’　talkin’；　bu’　she　said　yer　name；　twice；　las’　nigh’；’　Cheryl　told　her；　staring　gloomily　over　the　rim　of　her　can。

There　was　a　tightness　in　Krystal’s　chest。　She　did　not　know　whether　it　would　hurt　Nana　Cath　to　hold　her　hand。　She　edged　her　own　fingers　to　within　a　few　inches　of　Nana　Cath’s；　but　let　them　rest　on　the　bedspread。

‘Rhiannon’s　bin　in；’　said　Cheryl。　‘An’　John　an’　Sue。　Sue’s　tryin’　ter　get　hold　of　Anne…Marie。’

Krystal’s　spirits　leapt。

‘Where　is　she？’　she　asked　Cheryl。

‘Somewhere　out　Frenchay　way。　Y’know　she’s　got　a　baby　now？’

‘Yeah；　I　’eard；’　said　Krystal。　‘Wha’　was　it？’

‘Dunno；’　said　Cheryl；　swigging　Coke。

Someone　at　school　had　told　her：　Hey；　Krystal；　your　sister’s　up　the　duff！　She　had　been　excited　by　the　news。　She　was　going　to　be　an　auntie；　even　if　she　never　saw　the　baby。　All　her　life；　she　had　been　in　love　with　the　idea　of　Anne…Marie；　who　had　been　taken　away　before　Krystal　was　born；　spirited　into　another　dimension；　like　a　fairy…tale　c