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　in　the　eighties。’

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

‘God；　no。　I’m　here　by　accident。’

‘Sorry；　I　don’t　know　what　you　do；　Samantha？’　asked　Kay。

‘I’ve　got　my　own　busi—’

‘She　sells　outsize　bras；’　said　Miles。

Samantha　got　up　abruptly　and　went　to　fetch　another　bottle　of　wine。　When　she　returned　to　the　table；　Miles　was　telling　Kay　the　humorous　anecdote；　doubtless　intended　to　illustrate　how　everyone　knew　everyone　in　Pagford；　of　how　he　had　been　pulled　over　in　the　car　one　night　by　a　policeman　who　turned　out　to　be　a　friend　he　had　known　since　primary　school。　The　blow…by…blow　re…enactment　of　the　banter　between　himself　and　Steve　Edwards　was　tediously　familiar　to　Samantha。　As　she　moved　around　the　table　replenishing　all　the　glasses；　she　watched　Kay’s　austere　expression；　evidently；　Kay　did　not　find　drink…driving　a　laughing　matter。

‘…　so　Steve’s　holding　out　the　breathalyser；　and　I’m　about　to　blow　in　it；　and　out　of　nowhere　we　both　start　cracking　up。　His　partner’s　got　no　idea　what　the　hell’s　going　on；　he’s　like　this’　–　Miles　mimed　a　man　turning　his　head　from　side　to　side　in　astonishment　–　‘and　Steve’s　bent　double；　pissing　himself；　because　all　we　can　think　of　is　the　last　time　he　was　holding　something　steady　for　me　to　blow　into；　which　was　nigh　on　twenty　years　ago；　and—’

‘It　was　a　blow…up　doll；’　said　Samantha；　unsmiling；　dropping　back　into　her　seat　beside　Miles。　‘Miles　and　Steve　put　it　in　their　friend　Ian’s　parents’　bed；　during　Ian’s　eighteenth…birthday　party。　Anyway；　in　the　end　Miles　was　fined　a　grand　and　got　three　points　on　his　licence；　because　it　was　the　second　time　he’d　been　caught　over　the　limit。　So　that　was　hysterically　funny。’

Miles’　grin　remained　foolishly　in　place；　like　a　limp　balloon　forgotten　after　a　party。　A　stiff　little　chill　seemed　to　blow　through　the　temporarily　silent　room。　Though　Miles　struck　her　as　an　almighty　bore；　Kay　was　on　his　side：　he　was　the　only　one　at　the　table　who　seemed　remotely　inclined　to　ease　her　passage　into　Pagford　social　life。

‘I　must　say；　the　Fields　are　pretty　rough；’　she　said；　reverting　to　the　subject　with　which　Miles　seemed　most　fortable；　and　still　ignorant　that　it　was　in　any　way　inauspicious　within　Mary’s　vicinity。　‘I’ve　worked　in　the　inner　cities；　I　didn’t　expect　to　see　that　kind　of　deprivation　in　a　rural　area；　but　it’s　not　all　that　different　from　London。　Less　of　an　ethnic　mix；　of　course。’

‘Oh；　yes；　we’ve　got　our　share　of　addicts　and　wasters；’　said　Miles。　‘I　think　that’s　about　all　I　can　manage；　Sam；’　he　added；　pushing　his　plate　away　from　him　with　a　sizeable　amount　of　food　still　on　it。

Samantha　started　to　clear　the　table；　Mary　got　up　to　help。

‘No；　no；　it’s　fine；　Mary；　you　relax；’　Samantha　said。　To　Kay’s　annoyance；　Gavin　jumped　up　too；　chivalrously　insisting　on　Mary’s　sitting　back　down；　but　Mary　insisted　too。

‘That　was　lovely；　Sam；’　said　Mary；　in　the　kitchen；　as　they　scraped　most　of　the　food　into　the　bin。

‘No；　it　wasn’t；　it　was　horrible；’　said　Samantha；　who　was　only　appreciating　how　drunk　she　was　now　that　she　was　on　her　feet。　‘What　do　you　think　of　Kay？’

‘I　don’t　know。　She’s　not　what　I　expected；’　said　Mary。

‘She’s　exactly　what　I　expected；’　said　Samantha；　taking　out　plates　for　pudding。　‘She’s　another　Lisa；　if　you　ask　me。’

‘Oh；　no；　don’t　say　that；’　said　Mary。　‘He　deserves　someone　nice　this　time。’

This　was　a　most　novel　point　of　view　to　Samantha；　who　was　of　the　opinion　that　Gavin’s　wetness　merited　constant　punishment。

They　returned　to　the　dining　room　to　find　an　animated　conversation　in　progress　between　Kay　and　Miles；　while　Gavin　sat　in　silence。

‘…　offload　responsibility　for　them；　which　seems　to　me　to　be　a　pretty　self…centred　and　self…satisfied—’

‘Well；　I　think　it’s　interesting　that　you　use　the　word　“responsibility”；’　said　Miles；　‘because　I　think　that　goes　to　the　very　heart　of　the　problem；　doesn’t　it？　The　question　is；　where　exactly　do　we　draw　the　line？’

‘Beyond　the　Fields；　apparently。’　Kay　laughed；　with　condescension。　‘You　want　to　draw　a　line　neatly　between　the　home…owning　middle　classes　and　the　lower—’

‘Pagford’s　full　of　working…class　people；　Kay；　the　difference　is；　most　of　them　work。　D’you　know　what　proportion　of　the　Fields　lives　off　benefits？　Responsibility；　you　say：　what　happened　to　personal　responsibility？　We’ve　had　them　through　the　local　school　for　years：　kids　who　haven’t　got　a　single　worker　in　the　family；　the　concept　of　earning　a　living　is　pletely　foreign　to　them；　generations　of　non…workers；　and　we’re　expected　to　subsidize　them—’

‘So　your　solution　is　to　shunt　off　the　problem　onto　Yarvil；’　said　Kay；　‘not　to　engage　with　any　of　the　underlying—’

‘Mississippi　mud　pie？’　called　Samantha。

Gavin　and　Mary　took　slices　with　thanks；　Kay；　to　Samantha’s　fury；　simply　held　out　her　plate　as　though　Samantha　were　a　waitress；　her　attention　all　on　Miles。

‘…　the　addiction　clinic；　which　is　absolutely　crucial；　and　which　certain　people　are　apparently　lobbying　to　close—’

‘Oh；　well；　if　you’re　talking　about　Bellchapel；’　said　Miles；　shaking　his　head　and　smirking；　‘I　hope　you’ve　mugged　up　on　what　the　success　rates　are；　Kay。　Pathetic；　frankly；　absolutely　pathetic。　I’ve　seen　the　figures；　I　was　going　through　them　this　morning；　and　I　won’t　lie　to　you；　the　sooner　they　close—’

‘And　the　figures　you’re　talking　about　are　…？’

‘Success　rates；　Kay；　exactly　what　I　said：　the　number　of　people　who　have　actually　stopped　using　drugs；　gone　clean—’

‘I’m　sorry；　but　that’s　a　very　naive　point　of　view；　if　you’re　going　to　judge　success　purely—’

‘But　how　on　earth　else　are　we　supposed　to　judge　an　addiction　clinic’s　success？’　demanded　Miles；　incredulous。　‘As　far　as　I　can　tell；　all　they　do　at　Bellchapel　is　dole　out　methadone；　which　half　of　their　clients　use　alongside　heroin　anyway。’

‘The　whole　problem　of　addiction　is　immensely　plicated；’　said　Kay；　‘and　it’s　naive　and　simplistic　to　put　the　problem　purely　in　terms　of　users　and　non　…’

But　Miles　was　shaking　his　head；　smiling；　Kay；　who　had　been　enjoying　her　verbal　duel　with　this　self…satisfied　lawyer；　was　suddenly　angry。

‘Well；　I　can　give　you　a　very　concrete　example　of　what　Bellchapel’s　doing：　one　family　I’m　working　with　–　mother；　teenage　daughter　and　small　son　–　if　the　mother　wasn’t　on　methadone；　she’d　be　on　the　streets　trying　to　pay　for　her　habit；　the　kids　are　immeasurably　better　off—’

‘They’d　be　better　off　away　from　their　mother；　by　the　sound　of　it；’　said　Miles。

‘And　where　exactly　would　you　propose　they　go？’

‘A　decent　foster　home　would　be　a　good　start；’　said　Miles。

‘Do　you　know　how　many　foster　homes　there　are；　against　how　many　kids　needing　them？’　asked　Kay。

‘The　best　solution　would　have　been　to　have　them　adopted　at　birth—’

‘Fabulous。　I’ll　hop　in　my　time　machine；’　retorted　Kay。

‘Well；　we　know　a　couple　who　were　desperate　to　adopt；’　said　Samantha；　unexpectedly　throwing　her　weight　behind　Miles。　She　would　not　forgive　Kay　for　the　rude　outstretched　plate；　the　woman　was　bolshy　and　patronizing；　exactly　like　Lisa；　who　had　monopolized　every　get…together　with　her　political　views　and　her　job　in　family　law；　despising　Samantha　for　owning　a　bra　shop。　‘Adam　and　Janice；’　she　reminded　Miles　in　parenthesis；　who　nodded；　‘and　they　couldn’t　get　a　baby　for　love　nor　money；　could　they？’

‘Yes；　a　baby；’　said　Kay；　rolling　her　eyes；　‘everybody　wants　a　baby。　Robbie’s　nearly　four。　He’s　not　potty…trained；　he’s　developmentally　behind　for　his　age　and　he’s　almost　certainly　had　inappropriate　exposure　to　sexual　behaviour。　Would　your　friends　like　to　adopt　him？’

‘But　the　point　is；　if　he’d　been　taken　from　his　mother　at　birth—’

‘She　was　off　the　drugs　when　he　was　born；　and　making　good　progress；’　said　Kay。　‘She　loved　him　and　wanted　to　keep　him；　and　she　was　meeting　his　needs　at　the　time。　She’d　already　raised　Krystal；　with　some　family　support—’

‘Krystal！’　shrieked　Samantha。　‘Oh　my　God；　are　we　talking　about　the　Weedons？’

Kay　was　horrified　that　she　had　used　names；　it　had　never　mattered　in　London；　but　everyone　truly　did　know　everyone　in　Pagford；　it　seemed。

‘I　shouldn’t　have—’

But　Miles　and　Samantha　were　laughing；　and　Mary　looked　tense。　Kay；　who　had　not　touched　her　pie；　and　had　managed　very　little　of　the　first　course；　realized　that　she　had　drunk　too　much；　she　had　been　sipping　wine　steadily　out　of　nerves；　and　now　she　had　mitted　a　prime　indiscretion。　Still；　it　was　too　late　to　undo　that；　anger　overrode　every　other　consideration。

‘Krystal　Weedon　is　no　advert　for　that　woman’s　mothering　skills；’　said　Miles。

‘Krystal’s　trying　her　damnedest　to　hold　her　family　together；’　said　Kay。　‘She　loves　her　little　brother　very　much；　she’s　terrified　he’ll　be　taken　away—’

‘I　wouldn’t　trust　Krystal　Weedon　to　look　after　a　boiling　egg；’　said　Miles；　and　Samantha　laughed　again。　‘Oh；　look；　it’s　to　her　credit　she　loves　her　brother；　but　he　isn’t　a　cuddly　toy—’

‘Yes；　I　know　that；’　snapped　Kay；　remembering　Robbie’s　shitty；　crusted　bottom；　‘but　he’s　still　loved。’

‘Krystal　bullied　our　daughter　Lexie；’　said　Samantha；　‘so　we’ve　seen　a　different　side　of　her　to　the　one　I’m　sure　she　shows　you。’

‘Look；　we　all　know　Krystal’s　had　a　rough　deal；’　said　Miles；　‘nobody’s　denying　that。　It’s　the　drug…addled　mother　I’ve　got　an　issue　with。’

‘As　a　matter　of　fact；　she’s　doing　very　well　on　the　Bellchapel　programme　at　the　moment。’

‘But　with　her　history；’　said　Miles；　‘it　isn’t　rocket　science；　is　it；　to　guess　that　she’ll　relapse？’

‘If　you　apply　that　rule　across　the　board；　you　ought　not　to　have　a　driving　licence；　because　with　your　history　you’re　bound　to　drink　and　drive　again。’

Miles　was　temporarily　baffled；　but　Samantha　said　coldly；　‘I　think　that’s　a　rather　different　thing。’

‘Do　you？’　said　Kay。　‘It’s　the　same　principle。’

‘Yes；　well；　principles　are　sometimes　the　problem；　if　you　ask　me；’　said　Miles。　‘Often　what’s　needed　is　a　bit　of　mon　sense。’

‘Which　is　the　name　people　usually　give　to　their　prejudices；’　rejoined　Kay。

‘According　to　Nietzsche；’　said　a　sharp　new　voice；　making　them　all　jump；　‘philosophy　is　the　biography　of　the　philosopher。’

A　miniature　Samantha　stood　at　the　door　into　the　hall；　a　busty　girl　of　around　sixteen　in　tight　jeans　and　a　T…shirt；　she　was　eating　a　handful　of　grapes　and　looking　rather　pleased　with　herself。

‘Everyone　meet　Lexie；’　said　Miles　proudly。　‘Thank　you　for　that；　genius。’

‘You’re　wele；’　said　Lexie　pertly；　and　she　swept　off　upstairs。

A　heavy　silence　sank　over　the　table。　Without　really　knowing　why；　Samantha；　Miles　and　Kay　all　glanced　towards　Mary；　who　looked　as　though　she　might　be　on　the　verge　of　tears。

‘Coffee；’　said　Samantha；　lurching　to　her　feet。　Mary　disappeared　into　the　bathroom。

‘Let’s　go　and　sit　through；’　said　Miles；　conscious　that　the　atmosphere　was　somewhat　charged；　but　confident　that　he　could；　with　a　few　jokes　and　his　habitual　bonhomie；　steer　everyone　back　into　charity　with　each　other。　‘Bring　your　glasses。’

His　inner　certainties　had　been　no　more　rearranged　by　Kay’s　arguments　than　a　breeze　can　move　a　boulder；　yet　his　feeling　towards　her　was　not　unkind；　but　rather　pitying。　He　was　the　least　intoxicated　by　the　constant　refilling　of　glasses；　but　on　reaching　the　sitting　room　he　realized　how　very　full　his　bladder　was。

‘Whack　on　some　music；　Gav；　and　I’ll　go　and　get　those　choccies。’

But　Gavin　made　no　move　towards　the　vertical　stacks　of　CDs　in　their　sleek　Perspex　stands。　He　seemed　to　be　waiting　for　Kay　to　start　on　him。　Sure　enough；　as　soon　as　Miles　had　vanished　from　sight；　Kay　said；　‘Well；　thank　you　very　much；　Gav。　Thanks　for　all　the　support。’

Gavin　had　drunk　even　more　greedily　than　Kay　throughout　dinner；　enjoying　his　own　private　celebration　that　he　had　not；　after　all；　been　offered　up　as　a　sacrifice　to　Samantha’s　gladiatorial　bullying。　He　faced　Kay　squarely；　full　of　a　courage　born　not　only　of　wine　but　because　he　had　been　treated　for　an　hour　as　somebody　important；　knowledgeable　and　supportive；　by　Mary。

‘You　seemed　to　be　doing　OK　on　your　own；’　he　said。

Indeed；　the　little　he　had　permitted　himself　to　hear　of　Kay　and　Miles’　argument　had　given　him　a　pronounced　sense　of　déjà　vu；　if　he　had　not　had　Mar