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ealize　that　her　particular　brand　of　prurience　would　be　inappropriate　in　front　of　a　bereaved　woman；　plus；　the　constrictive　symmetry　of　a　foursome　had　been　broken　up。

‘How　are　you？’　he　said　quietly。　‘I　was　going　to　give　you　a　ring；　actually　…　there’ve　been　developments　with　the　insurance　…’

‘Haven’t　we　got　any　nibbles；　Sam？’　asked　Miles。

Samantha　walked　from　the　room；　seething　at　Miles。　The　smell　of　scorched　meat　met　her　as　she　opened　the　kitchen　door。

‘Oh　shit；　shit；　shit　…’

She　had　pletely　forgotten　the　casserole；　which　had　dried　out。　Desiccated　chunks　of　meat　and　vegetables　sat；　forlorn　survivors　of　the　catastrophe；　on　the　singed　bottom　of　the　pot。　Samantha　sloshed　in　wine　and　stock；　chiselling　the　adhering　bits　off　the　pan　with　her　spoon；　stirring　vigorously；　sweating　in　the　heat。　Miles’　high…pitched　laugh　rang　out　from　the　sitting　room。　Samantha　put　on　long…stemmed　broccoli　to　steam；　drained　her　glass　of　wine；　ripped　open　a　bag　of　tortilla　chips　and　a　tub　of　hummus；　and　upended　them　into　bowls。

Mary　and　Gavin　were　still　conversing　quietly　on　the　sofa　when　she　returned　to　the　sitting　room；　while　Miles　was　showing　Kay　a　framed　aerial　photograph　of　Pagford；　and　giving　her　a　lesson　in　the　town’s　history。　Samantha　set　down　the　bowls　on　the　coffee　table；　poured　herself　another　drink　and　settled　into　the　armchair；　making　no　effort　to　join　either　conversation。　It　was　awfully　unfortable　to　have　Mary　there；　with　her　grief　hanging　so　heavily　around　her　she　might　as　well　have　walked　in　trailing　a　shroud。　Surely；　though；　she　would　leave　before　dinner。

Gavin　was　determined　that　Mary　should　stay。　As　they　discussed　the　latest　developments　in　their　ongoing　battle　with　the　insurance　pany；　he　felt　much　more　relaxed　and　in　control　than　he　usually　did　in　Miles　and　Samantha’s　presence。　Nobody　was　chipping　away　at　him；　or　patronizing　him；　and　Miles　was　absolving　him　temporarily　of　all　responsibility　for　Kay。

‘…　and　just　here；　just　out　of　sight；’　Miles　was　saying；　pointing　to　a　spot　two　inches　past　the　frame　of　the　picture；　‘you’ve　got　Sweetlove　House；　the　Fawley　place。　Big　Queen　Anne　manor　house；　dormers；　stone　quoins　…　stunning；　you　should　visit；　it’s　open　to　the　public　on　Sundays　in　the　summer。　Important　family　locally；　the　Fawleys。’

‘Stone　quoins？’　‘Important　family；　locally？’　God；　you　are　an　arse；　Miles。

Samantha　hoisted　herself　out　of　her　armchair　and　returned　to　the　kitchen。　Though　the　casserole　was　watery；　the　burnt　flavour　dominated。　The　broccoli　was　flaccid　and　tasteless；　the　mashed　potato　cool　and　dry。　Past　caring；　she　decanted　it　all　into　dishes　and　slammed　it　down　on　the　circular　dining…room　table。

‘Dinner’s　ready！’　she　called　at　the　sitting…room　door。

‘Oh；　I　must　go；’　said　Mary；　jumping　up。　‘I　didn’t　mean—’

‘No；　no；　no！’　said　Gavin；　in　a　tone　that　Kay　had　never　heard　before：　kindly　and　cajoling。　‘It’ll　do　you　good　to　eat　–　kids’ll　be　all　right　for　an　hour。’

Miles　added　his　support　and　Mary　looked　uncertainly　towards　Samantha；　who　was　forced　to　add　her　voice　to　theirs；　then　dashed　back　through　into　the　dining　room　to　lay　another　setting。

She　invited　Mary　to　sit　between　Gavin　and　Miles；　because　placing　her　next　to　a　woman　seemed　to　emphasize　her　husband’s　absence。　Kay　and　Miles　had　moved　on　to　discussing　social　work。

‘I　don’t　envy　you；’　he　said；　serving　Kay　a　large　ladle　full　of　casserole；　Samantha　could　see　black；　scorched　flecks　in　the　sauce　spreading　across　the　white　plate。　‘Bloody　difficult　job。’

‘Well；　we’re　perennially　under…resourced；’　said　Kay；　‘but　it　can　be　satisfying；　especially　when　you　can　feel　you’re　making　a　difference。’

And　she　thought　of　the　Weedons。　Terri’s　urine　sample　had　tested　negative　at　the　clinic　yesterday　and　Robbie　had　had　a　full　week　in　nursery。　The　recollection　cheered　her；　counterbalancing　her　slight　irritation　that　Gavin’s　attention　was　still　focused　entirely　on　Mary；　that　he　was　doing　nothing　to　help　ease　her　conversation　with　his　friends。

‘You’ve　got　a　daughter；　haven’t　you；　Kay？’

‘That’s　right：　Gaia。　She’s　sixteen。’

‘Same　age　as　Lexie；　we　should　get　them　together；’　said　Miles。

‘Divorced？’　asked　Samantha　delicately。

‘No；’　said　Kay。　‘We　weren’t　married。　He　was　a　university　boyfriend　and　we　split　up　not　long　after　she　was　born。’

‘Yeah；　Miles　and　I　had　barely　left　university　ourselves；’　said　Samantha。

Kay　did　not　know　whether　Samantha　meant　to　draw　a　distinction　between　herself；　who　had　married　the　big　smug　father　of　her　children；　and　Kay；　who　had　been　left　…　not　that　Samantha　could　know　that　Brendan　had　left　her　…

‘Gaia’s　taken　a　Saturday　job　with　your　father；　actually；’　Kay　told　Miles。　‘At　the　new　café。’

Miles　was　delighted。　He　took　enormous　pleasure　in　the　idea　that　he　and　Howard　were　so　much　part　of　the　fabric　of　the　place　that　everybody　in　Pagford　was　connected　to　them；　whether　as　friend　or　client；　customer　or　employee。　Gavin；　who　was　chewing　and　chewing　on　a　bit　of　rubbery　meat　that　was　refusing　to　yield　to　his　teeth；　experienced　a　further　lowering　in　the　pit　of　his　stomach。　It　was　news　to　him　that　Gaia　had　taken　a　job　with　Miles’　father。　Somehow　he　had　forgotten　that　Kay　possessed　in　Gaia　another　powerful　device　for　anchoring　herself　to　Pagford。　When　not　in　the　immediate　vicinity　of　her　slamming　doors；　her　vicious　looks　and　caustic　asides；　Gavin　tended　to　forget　that　Gaia　had　any　independent　existence　at　all；　that　she　was　not　simply　part　of　the　unfortable　backdrop　of　stale　sheets；　bad　cooking　and　festering　grudges　against　which　his　relationship　with　Kay　staggered　on。

‘Does　Gaia　like　Pagford？’　Samantha　asked。

‘Well；　it’s　a　bit　quiet　pared　to　Hackney；’　said　Kay；　‘but　she’s　settling　in　well。’

She　took　a　large　gulp　of　wine　to　wash　out　her　mouth　after　disgorging　the　enormous　lie。　There　had　been　yet　another　row　before　leaving　tonight。

（‘What’s　the　matter　with　you？’　Kay　had　asked；　while　Gaia　sat　at　the　kitchen　table；　hunched　over　her　laptop；　wearing　a　dressing　gown　over　her　clothes。　Four　or　five　boxes　of　dialogue　were　open　on　the　screen。　Kay　knew　that　Gaia　was　municating　online　with　the　friends　she　had　left　behind　in　Hackney；　friends　she　had　had；　in　most　cases；　since　she　had　been　in　primary　school。

‘Gaia？’

Refusal　to　answer　was　new　and　ominous。　Kay　was　used　to　explosions　of　bile　and　rage　against　herself　and；　particularly；　Gavin。

‘Gaia；　I’m　talking　to　you。’

‘I　know；　I　can　hear　you。’

‘Then　kindly　have　the　courtesy　to　answer　me　back。’

Black　dialogue　jerked　upwards　in　the　boxes　on　the　screen；　funny　little　icons；　blinking　and　waggling。

‘Gaia；　please　will　you　answer　me？’

‘What？　What　do　you　want？’

‘I’m　trying　to　ask　about　your　day。’

‘My　day　was　shit。　Yesterday　was　shit。　Tomorrow　will　be　shit　as　well。’

‘When　did　you　get　home？’

‘The　same　time　I　always　get　home。’

Sometimes；　even　after　all　these　years；　Gaia　displayed　resentment　at　having　to　let　herself　in；　at　Kay　not　being　at　home　to　meet　her　like　a　storybook　mother。

‘Do　you　want　to　tell　me　why　your　day　was　shit？’

‘Because　you　dragged　me　to　live　in　a　shithole。’

Kay　willed　herself　not　to　shout。　Lately　there　had　been　screaming　matches　that　she　was　sure　the　whole　street　had　heard。

‘You　know　that　I’m　going　out　with　Gavin　tonight？’

Gaia　muttered　something　Kay　did　not　catch。

‘What？’

‘I　said；　I　didn’t　think　he　liked　taking　you　out。’

‘What’s　that　supposed　to　mean？’

But　Gaia　did　not　answer；　she　simply　typed　a　response　into　one　of　the　scrolling　conversations　on　the　screen。　Kay　vacillated；　both　wanting　to　press　her　and　afraid　of　what　she　might　hear。

‘We’ll　be　back　around　midnight；　I　expect。’

Gaia　had　not　responded。　Kay　had　gone　to　wait　for　Gavin　in　the　hall。）

‘Gaia’s　made　friends；’　Kay　told　Miles；　‘with　a　girl　who　lives　in　this　street；　what’s　her　name　–　Narinder？’

‘Sukhvinder；’　said　Miles　and　Samantha　together。

‘She’s　a　nice　girl；’　said　Mary。

‘Have　you　met　her　father？’　Samantha　asked　Kay。

‘No；’　said　Kay。

‘He’s　a　heart　surgeon；’　said　Samantha；　who　was　on　her　fourth　glass　of　wine。　‘Absolutely　bloody　gorgeous。’

‘Oh；’　said　Kay。

‘Like　a　Bollywood　film　star。’

None　of　them；　Samantha　reflected；　had　bothered　to　tell　her　that　dinner　was　tasty；　which　would　have　been　simple　politeness；　even　though　it　was　awful。　If　she　wasn’t　allowed　to　torment　Gavin；　she　ought　at　least　to　be　able　to　needle　Miles。

‘Vikram’s　the　only　good　thing　about　living　in　this　godforsaken　town；　I　can　tell　you；’　said　Samantha。　‘Sex　on　legs。’

‘And　his　wife’s　our　local　GP；’　said　Miles；　‘and　a　parish　councillor。　You’ll　be　employed　by　Yarvil　District　Council；　Kay；　are　you？’

‘That’s　right；’　said　Kay。　‘But　I　spend　most　of　my　time　in　the　Fields。　They’re　technically　in　Pagford　Parish；　aren’t　they？’

Not　the　Fields；　thought　Samantha；　Oh；　don’t　mention　the　bloody　Fields。

‘Ah；’　said　Miles；　with　a　meaningful　smile。　‘Yes；　well；　the　Fields　do　belong　to　Pagford；　technically。　Technically；　they　do。　Painful　subject；　Kay。’

‘Really？　Why？’　asked　Kay；　hoping　to　make　conversation　general；　because　Gavin　was　still　talking　in　an　undertone　to　the　widow。

‘Well；　you　see　–　this　is　back　in　the　fifties。’　Miles　seemed　to　be　embarking　on　a　well…rehearsed　speech。　‘Yarvil　wanted　to　expand　the　Cantermill　Estate；　and　instead　of　building　out　to　the　west；　where　the　bypass　is　now—’

‘Gavin？　Mary？　More　wine？’　Samantha　called　over　Miles。

‘—they　were　a　little　bit　duplicitous；　land　was　bought　without　it　being　very　clear　what　they　wanted　it　for；　and　then　they　went　and　expanded　the　estate　over　the　border　into　Pagford　Parish。’

‘Why　aren’t　you　mentioning　Old　Aubrey　Fawley；　Miles？’　asked　Samantha。　She　had；　at　last；　reached　that　delicious　point　of　intoxication　where　her　tongue　became　wicked　and　she　became　disengaged　from　fear　of　consequences；　eager　to　provoke　and　to　irritate；　seeking　nothing　but　her　own　amusement。　‘The　truth　is　that　Old　Aubrey　Fawley；　who　used　to　own　all　those　lovely　stone　quoits；　or　whatever　Miles　was　telling　you　about；　did　a　deal　behind　everyone’s　backs—’

‘That’s　not　fair；　Sam；’　said　Miles；　but　she　talked　over　him　again。

‘—he　flogged　off　the　land　where　the　Fields　are　built；　pocketed；　I　don’t　know；　must　have　been　a　quarter　of　a　mill　or　so—’

‘Don’t　talk　rubbish；　Sam；　back　in　the　fifties？’

‘—but　then；　once　he　realized　everyone　was　pissed　off　with　him；　he　pretended　he　hadn’t　known　it　would　cause　trouble。　Upper…class　twit。　And　a　drunk；’　added　Samantha。

‘Simply　not　true；　I’m　afraid；’　Miles　said　firmly。　‘To　fully　understand　the　problem；　Kay；　you　need　to　appreciate　a　bit　of　local　history。’

Samantha；　holding　her　chin　in　her　hand；　pretended　to　slide　her　elbow　off　the　table　in　boredom。　Though　she　could　not　like　Samantha；　Kay　laughed；　and　Gavin　and　Mary　broke　off　their　quiet　conversation。

‘We’re　talking　about　the　Fields；’　said　Kay；　in　a　tone　intended　to　remind　Gavin　that　she　was　there；　that　he　ought　to　be　giving　her　moral　support。

Miles；　Samantha　and　Gavin　realized　simultaneously　that　the　Fields　was　a　most　tactless　subject　to　raise　in　front　of　Mary；　when　they　had　been　such　a　bone　of　contention　between　Barry　and　Howard。

‘Apparently　they’re　a　bit　of　a　sore　subject　locally；’　said　Kay；　wanting　to　force　Gavin　to　express　a　view；　to　rope　him　in。

‘Mmm；’　he　replied；　and　turning　back　to　Mary；　he　said；　‘So　how’s　Declan’s　football　ing　on？’

Kay　experienced　a　powerful　stab　of　fury：　Mary　might　be　recently　bereaved；　but　Gavin’s　solicitousness　seemed　unnecessarily　pointed。　She　had　imagined　this　evening　quite　differently：　a　foursome　in　which　Gavin　would　have　to　acknowledge　that　they　really　were　a　couple；　yet　nobody　looking　on　would　imagine　that　they　enjoyed　a　closer　relationship　than　acquaintanceship。　Also；　the　food　was　horrible。　Kay　put　her　knife　and　fork　together　with　three…quarters　of　her　helping　untouched　–　an　act　that　was　not　lost　on　Samantha　–　and　addressed　Miles　again。

‘Did　you　grow　up　in　Pagford？’

‘Afraid　so；’　said　Miles；　smiling　placently。　‘Born　in　the　old　Kelland　Hospital　along　the　road。　They　closed　it　in　the　eighties。’

‘And　you？—’　Kay　asked　Samantha；　who　cut　across　her。

‘God；　no。　I’m　her