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‘Colin—’

‘I　suppose　Fiona　Shawcross　has　told　people；’　he　whispered。

The　catastrophe　he　had　always　feared　was　upon　him。　It　was　the　end　of　everything。　He　had　always　imagined　taking　sleeping　tablets。　He　wondered　whether　they　had　enough　in　the　house。

Tessa；　who　had　been　momentarily　thrown　by　the　mention　of　the　headmistress；　said；　‘Fiona　wouldn’t　–　anyway；　she　doesn’t　know—’

‘She　knows　I’ve　got　OCD。’

‘Yes；　but　she　doesn’t　know　what　you　–　what　you’re　afraid　of—’

‘She　does；’　said　Colin。　‘I　told　her；　before　the　last　time　I　needed　sick　leave。’

‘Why？’　Tessa　burst　out。　‘What　on　earth　did　you　tell　her　for？’

‘I　wanted　to　explain　why　it　was　so　important　I　had　time　off；’　said　Colin；　almost　humbly。　‘I　thought　she　needed　to　know　how　serious　it　was。’

Tessa　fought　down　a　powerful　desire　to　shout　at　him。　The　tinge　of　distaste　with　which　Fiona　treated　him　and　talked　about　him　was　explained；　Tessa　had　never　liked　her；　always　thought　her　hard　and　unsympathetic。

‘Be　that　as　it　may；’　she　said；　‘I　don’t　think　Fiona’s　got　anything　to　do—’

‘Not　directly；’　said　Colin；　pressing　a　trembling　hand　to　his　sweating　upper　lip。　‘But　Mollison’s　heard　gossip　from　somewhere。’

It　wasn’t　Mollison。　Stuart　wrote　that；　I　know　he　did。　Tessa　recognized　her　son　in　every　line。　She　was　even　astonished　that　Colin　could　not　see　it；　that　he　had　not　connected　the　message　with　yesterday’s　row；　with　hitting　his　son。　He　couldn’t　even　resist　a　bit　of　alliteration。　He　must　have　done　all　of　them　–　Simon　Price。　Parminder。　Tessa　was　horror…struck。

But　Colin　was　not　thinking　about　Stuart。　He　was　recalling　thoughts　that　were　as　vivid　as　memories；　as　sensory　impressions；　violent；　vile　ideas：　a　hand　seizing　and　squeezing　as　he　passed　through　densely　packed　young　bodies；　a　cry　of　pain；　a　child’s　face　contorted。　And　then　asking　himself；　again　and　again：　had　he　done　it？　Had　he　enjoyed　it？　He　could　not　remember。　He　only　knew　that　he　kept　thinking　about　it；　seeing　it　happen；　feeling　it　happen。　Soft　flesh　through　a　thin　cotton　blouse；　seize；　squeeze；　pain　and　shock；　a　violation。　How　many　times？　He　did　not　know。　He　had　spent　hours　wondering　how　many　of　the　children　knew　he　did　it；　whether　they　had　spoken　to　each　other；　how　long　it　would　be　until　he　was　exposed。

Not　knowing　how　many　times　he　had　offended；　and　unable　to　trust　himself；　he　burdened　himself　with　so　many　papers　and　files　that　he　had　no　hands　free　to　attack　as　he　moved　through　the　corridors。　He　shouted　at　the　swarming　children　to　get　out　of　the　way；　to　stand　clear；　as　he　passed。　None　of　it　helped。　There　were　always　stragglers；　running　past　him；　up　against　him；　and　with　his　hands　burdened　he　imagined　other　ways　to　have　improper　contact　with　them：　a　swiftly　repositioned　elbow　brushing　against　a　breast；　a　side…step　to　ensure　bodily　contact；　a　leg　accidentally　entangled；　so　that　the　child’s　groin　made　contact　with　his　flesh。

‘Colin；’　said　Tessa。

But　he　had　started　to　cry　again；　great　sobs　shaking　his　big；　ungainly　body；　and　when　she　put　her　arms　around　him　and　pressed　her　face　to　his　her　own　tears　wet　his　skin。

A　few　miles　away；　in　Hilltop　House；　Simon　Price　was　sitting　at　a　brand…new　family　puter　in　the　sitting　room。　Watching　Andrew　cycle　away　to　his　weekend　job　with　Howard　Mollison；　and　the　reflection　that　he　had　been　forced　to　pay　full　market　price　for　this　puter；　made　him　feel　irritable　and　additionally　hard　done　by。　Simon　had　not　looked　at　the　Parish　Council　website　once　since　the　night　that　he　had　thrown　out　the　stolen　PC；　but　it　occurred　to　him；　by　an　association　of　ideas；　to　check　whether　the　message　that　had　cost　him　his　job　was　still　on　the　site　and　thus　viewable　by　potential　employers。

It　was　not。　Simon　did　not　know　that　he　owed　this　to　his　wife；　because　Ruth　was　scared　of　admitting　that　she　had　telephoned　Shirley；　even　to　request　the　removal　of　the　post。　Slightly　cheered　by　its　absence；　Simon　looked　for　the　post　about　Parminder；　but　that　was　gone　too。

He　was　about　to　close　the　site；　when　he　saw　the　newest　post；　which　was　entitled　Fantasies　of　a　Deputy　Headmaster。

He　read　it　through　twice　and　then；　alone　in　the　sitting　room；　he　began　to　laugh。　It　was　a　savage　triumphant　laugh。　He　had　never　taken　to　that　big；　bobbing　man　with　his　massive　forehead。　It　was　good　to　know　that　he；　Simon；　had　got　off　very　lightly　indeed　by　parison。

Ruth　came　into　the　room；　smiling　timidly；　she　was　glad　to　hear　Simon　laughing；　because　he　had　been　in　a　dreadful　mood　since　losing　his　job。

‘What’s　funny？’

‘You　know　Fats’　old　man？　Wall；　the　deputy　headmaster？　He’s　only　a　bloody　paedo。’

Ruth’s　smile　slipped。　She　hurried　forward　to　read　the　post。

‘I’m　going　to　shower；’　said　Simon；　in　high　good　humour。

Ruth　waited　until　he　had　left　the　room　before　trying　to　call　her　friend　Shirley；　and　alert　her　to　this　new　scandal；　but　the　Mollisons’　telephone　was　engaged。

Shirley　had；　at　last；　reached　Howard　at　the　delicatessen。　She　was　still　in　her　dressing　gown；　he　was　pacing　up　and　down　the　little　back　room；　behind　the　counter。

‘…　been　trying　to　get　you　for　ages—’

‘Mo　was　using　the　phone。　What　did　it　say？　Slowly。’

Shirley　read　the　message　about　Colin；　enunciating　like　a　newsreader。　She　had　not　reached　the　end；　when　he　cut　across　her。

‘Did　you　copy　this　down　or　something？’

‘Sorry？’　she　said。

‘Are　you　reading　it　off　the　screen？　Is　it　still　on　there？　Have　you　taken　it　off？’

‘I’m　dealing　with　it　now；’　lied　Shirley；　unnerved。　‘I　thought　you’d　like　to—’

‘Get　it　off　there　now！　God　above；　Shirley；　this　is　getting　out　of　hand　–　we　can’t　have　stuff　like　that　on　there！’

‘I　just　thought　you　ought　to—’

‘Make　sure　you’ve　got　rid　of　it；　and　we’ll　talk　about　it　when　I　get　home！’　Howard　shouted。

Shirley　was　furious：　they　never　raised　their　voices　to　each　other。

VI
The　next　Parish　Council　meeting；　the　first　since　Barry　had　died；　would　be　crucial　in　the　ongoing　battle　over　the　Fields。　Howard　had　refused　to　postpone　the　votes　on　the　future　of　Bellchapel　Addiction　Clinic；　or　the　town’s　wish　to　transfer　jurisdiction　of　the　estate　to　Yarvil。

Parminder　therefore　suggested　that　she；　Colin　and　Kay　ought　to　meet　up　the　evening　before　the　meeting　to　discuss　strategy。

‘Pagford　can’t　unilaterally　decide　to　alter　the　parish　boundary；　can　it？’　asked　Kay。

‘No；’　said　Parminder　patiently　（Kay　could　not　help　being　a　newer）；　‘but　the　District　Council　has　asked　for　Pagford’s　opinion；　and　Howard’s　determined　to　make　sure　it’s　his　opinion　that　gets　passed　on。’

They　were　holding　their　meeting　in　the　Walls’　sitting　room；　because　Tessa　had　put　subtle　pressure　on　Colin　to　invite　the　other　two　where　she　could　listen　in。　Tessa　handed　around　glasses　of　wine；　put　a　large　bowl　of　crisps　on　the　coffee　table；　then　sat　back　in　silence；　while　the　other　three　talked。

She　was　exhausted　and　angry。　The　anonymous　post　about　Colin　had　brought　on　one　of　his　most　debilitating　attacks　of　acute　anxiety；　so　severe　that　he　had　been　unable　to　go　to　school。　Parminder　knew　how　ill　he　was　–　she　had　signed　him　off　work　–　yet　she　invited　him　to　participate　in　this　pre…meeting；　not　caring；　it　seemed；　what　fresh　effusions　of　paranoia　and　distress　Tessa　would　have　to　deal　with　tonight。

‘There’s　definitely　resentment　out　there　about　the　way　the　Mollisons　are　handling　things；’　Colin　was　saying；　in　the　lofty；　knowledgeable　tone　he　sometimes　adopted　when　pretending　to　be　a　stranger　to　fear　and　paranoia。　‘I　think　it’s　starting　to　get　up　people’s　noses；　the　way　they　think　that　they　can　speak　for　the　town。　I’ve　got　that　impression；　you　know；　while　I’ve　been　canvassing。’

It　would　have　been　nice；　thought　Tessa　bitterly；　if　Colin　could　have　summoned　these　powers　of　dissimulation　for　her　benefit　occasionally。　Once；　long　ago；　she　had　liked　being　Colin’s　sole　confidante；　the　only　repository　of　his　terrors　and　the　font　of　all　reassurance；　but　she　no　longer　found　it　flattering。　He　had　kept　her　awake　from　two　o’clock　until　half…past　three　that　morning；　rocking　backwards　and　forwards　on　the　edge　of　the　bed；　moaning　and　crying；　saying　that　he　wished　he　were　dead；　that　he　could　not　take　it；　that　he　wished　he　had　never　stood　for　the　seat；　that　he　was　ruined　…

Tessa　heard　Fats　on　the　stairs；　and　tensed；　but　her　son　passed　the　open　door　on　his　way　to　the　kitchen　with　nothing　worse　than　a　scathing　glance　at　Colin；　who　was　perched　in　front　of　the　fire　on　a　leather　pouffe；　his　knees　level　with　his　chest。

‘Maybe　Miles’　standing　for　the　empty　seat　will　really　antagonize　people　–　even　the　Mollisons’　natural　supporters？’　said　Kay　hopefully。

‘I　think　it　might；’　said　Colin；　nodding。

Kay　turned　to　Parminder。

‘D’you　think　the　council　will　really　vote　to　force　Bellchapel　out　of　their　building？　I　know　people　get　uptight　about　discarded　needles；　and　addicts　hanging　around　the　neighbourhood；　but　the　clinic’s　miles　away　…　why　does　Pagford　care？’

‘Howard　and　Aubrey　are　scratching　each　other’s　backs；’　explained　Parminder；　whose　face　was　taut；　with　dark　brown　patches　under　her　eyes。　（It　was　she　who　would　have　to　attend　the　council　meeting　the　next　day；　and　fight　Howard　Mollison　and　his　cronies　without　Barry　by　her　side。）　‘They　need　to　make　cuts　in　spending　at　District　level。　If　Howard　turfs　the　clinic　out　of　its　cheap　building；　it’ll　be　much　more　expensive　to　run　and　Fawley　can　say　the　costs　have　increased；　and　justify　cutting　council　funding。　Then　Fawley　will　do　his　best　to　make　sure　that　the　Fields　get　reassigned　to　Yarvil。’

Tired　of　explaining；　Parminder　pretended　to　examine　the　new　stack　of　papers　about　Bellchapel　that　Kay　had　brought　with　her；　easing　herself　out　of　the　conversation。

Why　am　I　doing　this？　she　asked　herself。

She　could　have　been　sitting　at　home　with　Vikram；　who　had　been　watching　edy　on　television　with　Jaswant　and　Rajpal　as　she　left。　The　sound　of　their　laughter　had　jarred　on　her；　when　had　she　last　laughed？　Why　was　she　here；　drinking　nasty　warm　wine；　fighting　for　a　clinic　that　she　would　never　need　and　a　housing　development　inhabited　by　people　she　would　probably　dislike　if　she　met　them？　She　was　not　Bhai　Kanhaiya；　who　could　not　see　a　difference　between　the　souls　of　allies　and　enemies；　she　saw　no　light　of　God　shining　from　Howard　Mollison。　She　derived　more　pleasure　from　the　thought　of　Howard　losing；　than　from　the　thought　of　Fields　children　continuing　to　attend　St　Thomas’s；　or　from　Fields　people　being　able　to　break　their　addictions　at　Bellchapel；　although；　in　a　distant　and　dispassionate　way；　she　thought　that　these　were　good　things　…

（But　she　knew　why　she　was　doing　it；　really。　She　wanted　to　win　for　Barry。　He　had　told　her　all　about　ing　to　St　Thomas’s。　His　classmates　had　invited　him　home　to　play；　he；　who　had　been　living　in　a　caravan　with　his　mother　and　two　brothers；　had　relished　the　neat　and　fortable　houses　of　Hope　Street；　and　been　awed　by　the　big　Victorian　houses　on　Church　Row。　He　had　even　attended　a　birthday　party　in　that　very　cow…faced　house　that　he　had　subsequently　bought；　and　where　he　had　raised　his　four　children。

He　had　fallen　in　love　with　Pagford；　with　the　river　and　the　fields　and　the　solid…walled　houses。　He　had　fantasized　about　having　a　garden　to　play　in；　a　tree　from　which　to　hang　a　swing；　space　and　greenness　everywhere。　He　had　collected　conkers　and　taken　them　back　to　the　Fields。　After　shining　at　St　Thomas’s；　top　of　his　class；　Barry　had　gone　on　to　be　the　first　in　his　family　to　go　to　university。

Love　and　hate；　Parminder　thought；　a　little　frightened　by　her　own　honesty。　Love　and　hate；　that’s　why　I’m　here　…　）

She　turned　over　a　page　of　Kay’s　documents；　feigning　concentration。

Kay　was　pleased　that　the　doctor　was　scrutinizing　her　papers　so　carefully；　because　she　had　put　a　lot　of　time　and　thought　into　them。　She　could　not　believe　that　anybody　reading　her　material　would　not　be　convinced　that　the　Bellchapel　clinic　ought　to　remain　in　situ。

But　through　all　the　statistics；　the　anonymous　case　studies　and　first…person　testimonies；　Kay　really　thought　of　the　clinic　in　terms　of　only　one　patient：　Terri　Weedon。　There　had　been　a　change　in　Terri；　Kay　could　feel　it；　and　it　made　her　both　proud　and　frightened。　Terri　was　showing　faint　glimmerings　of　an　awakened　sense　of　control　over　her　life。　Twi