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ed　in　an　instant；　and　its　appearance　of　permanence　and　solidity　was　laughable；　it　would　dissolve　at　a　touch；　for　everything　was　suddenly　tissue…thin　and　friable。

She　had　no　control　over　her　thoughts；　they　had　broken　apart　too；　and　random　fragments　of　memory　surfaced　and　spun　out　of　sight　again：　dancing　with　Barry　at　the　Walls’　New　Year’s　party；　and　the　silly　conversation　they　had　had　walking　back　from　the　last　meeting　of　the　Parish　Council。

‘You’ve　got　a　cow…faced　house；’　she　had　told　him。

‘Cow…faced？　What　does　that　mean？’

She　couldn’t　settle。　Through　the　hall；　then　back　into　the　kitchen；　where　she　seized　the　telephone　and　called　Tessa　Wall；　who　did　not　pick　up。　She　must　be　at　work。　Parminder　returned；　trembling；　to　the　kitchen　chair。

Her　grief　was　so　big　and　wild　it　terrified　her；　like　an　evil　beast　that　had　erupted　from　under　the　floorboards。　Barry；　little；　bearded　Barry；　her　friend；　her　ally。

It　was　exactly　the　way　her　father　had　died。　She　had　been　fifteen；　and　they　had　e　back　from　town　to　find　him　lying　face…down　on　the　lawn　with　the　mower　beside　him；　the　sun　hot　on　the　back　of　his　head。　Parminder　hated　sudden　death。　The　long　wasting　away　that　so　many　people　feared　was　a　forting　prospect　to　her；　time　to　arrange　and　organize；　time　to　say　goodbye　…　

Her　hands　were　still　pressed　tightly　over　her　mouth。　She　stared　at　the　grave；　sweet　visage　of　Guru　Nanak　pinned　to　the　cork　board。

（Vikram　did　not　like　the　picture。

‘What’s　that　doing　there？’

‘I　like　it；’　she　had　said　defiantly。）

Barry；　dead。

She　tamped　down　the　awful　urge　to　cry　with　a　fierceness　that　her　mother　had　always　deplored；　especially　in　the　wake　of　her　father’s　death；　when　her　other　daughters；　and　the　aunts　and　cousins；　were　all　wailing　and　beating　their　breasts。　‘And　you　were　his　favourite　too！’　But　Parminder　kept　her　unwept　tears　locked　tightly　inside　where　they　seemed　to　undergo　an　alchemical　transformation；　returning　to　the　outer　world　as　lava　slides　of　rage；　disgorged　periodically　at　her　children　and　the　receptionists　at　work。

She　could　still　see　Howard　and　Maureen　behind　the　counter；　the　one　immense；　the　other　scrawny；　and　in　her　mind’s　eye　they　were　looking　down　at　her　from　a　height　as　they　told　her　that　her　friend　was　dead。　With　an　almost　wele　gush　of　fury　and　hatred　she　thought；　They’re　glad。　They　think　they’ll　win　now。

She　jumped　up　again；　strode　back　into　the　sitting　room　and　took　down；　from　the　top　shelf；　one　volume　of　the　Sainchis；　her　brand…new　holy　book。　Opening　it　at　random；　she　read；　with　no　surprise；　but　rather　a　sense　of　looking　at　her　own　devastated　face　in　a　mirror：

O　mind；　the　world　is　a　deep；　dark　pit。　On　every　side；　Death　casts　forward　his　。

IX
The　room　set　aside　for　the　guidance　department　at　Winterdown　prehensive　opened　off　the　school　library。　It　had　no　windows　and　was　lit　by　a　single　strip　light。

Tessa　Wall；　head　of　guidance　and　wife　of　the　deputy　headmaster；　entered　the　room　at　half…past　ten；　numb　with　fatigue　and　carrying　a　cup　of　strong　instant　coffee　that　she　had　brought　up　from　the　staff　room。　She　was　a　short　stout　woman　with　a　plain　wide　face；　who　cut　her　own　greying　hair　–　the　blunt　fringe　was　often　a　little　lop…sided　–　wore　clothes　of　a　homespun；　crafty　variety；　and　liked　jewellery　of　beads　and　wood。　Today’s　long　skirt　might　have　been　made　of　hessian；　and　she　had　teamed　it　with　a　thick　lumpy　cardigan　in　pea…green。　Tessa　hardly　ever　looked　at　herself　in　full…length　mirrors；　and　boycotted　shops　where　this　was　unavoidable。

She　had　attempted　to　soften　the　guidance　room’s　resemblance　to　a　cell　by　pinning　up　a　Nepalese　hanging　she　had　owned　since　her　student　days：　a　rainbow　sheet　with　a　bright　yellow　sun　and　moon　that　emitted　stylised；　wavy　rays。　The　rest　of　the　bare　painted　surfaces　were　covered　with　a　variety　of　posters　that　either　gave　helpful　tips　on　boosting　self…esteem　or　telephone　numbers　to　call　for　anonymous　help　on　a　variety　of　health　and　emotional　issues。　The　headmistress　had　made　a　slightly　sarcastic　remark　about　these　the　last　time　she　had　visited　the　guidance　room。

‘And　if　all　else　fails；　they　call　ChildLine；　I　see；’　she　had　said；　pointing　to　the　most　prominent　poster。

Tessa　sank　into　her　chair　with　a　low　groan；　took　off　her　wristwatch；　which　pinched；　and　placed　it　on　the　desk　beside　various　printed　sheets　and　notes。　She　doubted　that　progress　along　the　prearranged　lines　would　be　possible　today；　she　doubted　even　whether　Krystal　Weedon　would　turn　up。　Krystal　frequently　walked　out　of　school　when　upset；　angry　or　bored。　She　was　sometimes　apprehended　before　she　reached　the　gates　and　frog…marched　back　inside；　swearing　and　shouting；　at　other　times；　she　successfully　evaded　capture　and　escaped　into　days　of　truancy。　Ten　forty　arrived；　the　bell　sounded；　and　Tessa　waited。

Krystal　burst　in　through　the　door　at　ten　fifty…one　and　slammed　it　behind　her。　She　slumped　down　in　front　of　Tessa　with　her　arms　folded　across　her　ample　bosom；　her　cheap　earrings　swinging。

‘You　can　tell　your　’usband；’　she　said；　her　voice　trembling；　‘that　I　never　fuckin’　laughed；　all　right？’

‘Don’t　swear　at　me；　please；　Krystal；’　said　Tessa。

‘I　never　laughed　–　all　right？’　screamed　Krystal。

A　group　of　sixth…formers　carrying　folders　had　arrived　in　the　library。　They　glanced　through　the　glass　pane　in　the　door；　one　of　them　grinned　at　the　sight　of　the　back　of　Krystal’s　head。　Tessa　got　up　and　let　down　the　roller…blind　over　the　window；　then　returned　to　her　seat　in　front　of　the　moon　and　sun。

‘All　right；　Krystal。　Why　don’t　you　tell　me　what　happened？’

‘Your　’usband　said　sumthin’　abou’　Mister　Fairbrother；　right；　an’　I　couldn’t　hear　what　he　was　saying；　right；　so　Nikki　tole　me；　and　I　couldn’t　fucking—’

‘Krystal！—’

‘—couldn’t　believe　it；　right；　an’　I　shouted　but　I　never　laughed！　I　never　fuck—’

‘—Krystal—’

‘I　never　laughed；　all　right？’　shouted　Krystal；　arms　tight　across　her　chest；　legs　twisted　together。

‘All　right；　Krystal。’

Tessa　was　used　to　the　anger　of　students　she　saw　most　often　in　guidance。　Many　of　them　were　devoid　of　workaday　morals；　they　lied；　misbehaved　and　cheated　routinely；　and　yet　their　fury　when　wrongly　accused　was　limitless　and　genuine。　Tessa　thought　she　recognized　this　as　authentic　outrage；　as　opposed　to　the　synthetic　kind　that　Krystal　was　adept　at　producing。　In　any　case；　the　squawk　Tessa　had　heard　during　assembly　had　struck　her　at　the　time　as　one　of　shock　and　dismay　rather　than　amusement；　Tessa　had　been　filled　with　dread　when　Colin　had　publicly　identified　it　as　laughter。

‘I　seen　Cubby—’

‘Krystal！—’

‘I　tole　your　fuckin’　’usband—’

‘Krystal；　for　the　last　time；　please　do　not　swear　at　me—’

‘I　told　’im　I　never　laughed；　I　told　’im！　An’　he’s　still　gave　me　fucking　detention！’

Tears　of　fury　gleamed　in　the　girl’s　heavily　pencilled　eyes。　Blood　had　flowed　into　her　face；　peony　pink；　she　glared　at　Tessa；　poised　to　run；　to　swear；　to　give　Tessa　the　finger　too。　Nearly　two　years　of　gossamer…fine　trust；　laboriously　spun　between　them；　was　stretching；　on　the　point　of　tearing。

‘I　believe　you；　Krystal。　I　believe　you　didn’t　laugh；　but　please　do　not　swear　at　me。’

Suddenly；　stubby　fingers　were　rubbing　the　smeary　eyes。　Tessa　pulled　a　wad　of　tissues　from　out　of　her　desk　drawer　and　handed　them　across　to　Krystal；　who　grabbed　them　without　thanks；　pressed　them　to　each　eye　and　blew　her　nose。　Krystal’s　hands　were　the　most　touching　part　of　her：　the　fingernails　were　short　and　broad；　untidily　painted；　and　all　her　hand　movements　were　as　naive　and　direct　as　a　small　child’s。

Tessa　waited　until　Krystal’s　snorting　breaths　had　slowed　down。　Then　she　said；　‘I　can　tell　you’re　upset　that　Mr　Fairbrother　has　died—’

‘Yer；　I　am；’　said　Krystal；　with　considerable　aggression。　‘So？’

Tessa　had　a　sudden　mental　image　of　Barry　listening　in　to　this　conversation。　She　could　see　his　rueful　smile；　she　heard　him；　quite　clearly；　saying　‘bless　her　heart’。　Tessa　closed　her　stinging　eyes；　unable　to　speak。　She　heard　Krystal　fidget；　counted　slowly　to　ten；　and　opened　her　eyes　again。　Krystal　was　staring　at　her；　arms　still　folded；　flushed　and　defiant…looking。

‘I’m　very　sorry　about　Mr　Fairbrother　too；’　said　Tessa。　‘He　was　an　old　friend　of　ours；　actually。　That’s　the　reason　Mr　Wall　is　a　bit—’

‘I　told　’im　I　never—’

‘Krystal；　please　let　me　finish。　Mr　Wall　is　very　upset　today；　and　that’s　probably　why　he　…　why　he　misinterpreted　what　you　did。　I’ll　speak　to　him。’

‘He　won’t　change　his　fuck—’

‘Krystal！’

‘Well；　he　won’。’

Krystal　banged　the　leg　of　Tessa’s　desk　with　her　foot；　beating　out　a　rapid　rhythm。　Tessa　removed　her　elbows　from　the　desk；　so　as　not　to　feel　the　vibration；　and　said；　‘I’ll　speak　to　Mr　Wall。’

She　adopted　what　she　believed　was　a　neutral　expression　and　waited　patiently　for　Krystal　to　e　to　her。　Krystal　sat　in　truculent　silence；　kicking　the　table　leg；　swallowing　regularly。

‘What　was　wrong　with　Mr　Fairbrother？’　she　said　at　last。

‘They　think　an　artery　burst　in　his　brain；’　said　Tessa。

‘Why　did　it？’

‘He　was　born　with　a　weakness　he　didn’t　know　about；’　said　Tessa。

Tessa　knew　that　Krystal’s　familiarity　with　sudden　death　was　greater　than　her　own。　People　in　Krystal’s　mother’s　circle　died　prematurely　with　such　frequency　that　they　might　have　been　involved　in　some　secret　war　of　which　the　rest　of　the　world　knew　nothing。　Krystal　had　told　Tessa　how；　when　she　was　six　years　old；　she　had　found　the　corpse　of　an　unknown　young　man　in　her　mother’s　bathroom。　It　had　been　the　catalyst　for　one　of　her　many　removals　into　the　care　of　her　Nana　Cath。　Nana　Cath　loomed　large　in　many　of　Krystal’s　stories　about　her　childhood；　a　strange　mixture　of　saviour　and　scourge。

‘Our　crew’ll　be　fucked　now；’　said　Krystal。

‘No；　it　won’t；’　said　Tessa。　‘And　don’t　swear；　Krystal；　please。’

‘It　will；’　said　Krystal。

Tessa　wanted　to　contradict　her；　but　the　impulse　was　squashed　by　exhaustion。　Krystal　was　right；　anyway；　said　a　disconnected；　rational　part　of　Tessa’s　brain。　The　rowing　eight　would　be　finished。　Nobody　except　Barry　could　have　brought　Krystal　Weedon　into　any　group　and　kept　her　there。　She　would　leave；　Tessa　knew　it；　probably　Krystal　knew　it　herself。　They　sat　for　a　while　without　speaking；　and　Tessa　was　too　tired　to　find　words　that　might　have　changed　the　atmosphere　between　them。　She　felt　shivery；　exposed；　skinned　to　the　bone。　She　had　been　awake　for　over　twenty…four　hours。

（Samantha　Mollison　had　telephoned　from　the　hospital　at　ten　o’clock；　just　as　Tessa　was　emerging　from　a　long　soak　in　the　bath　to　watch　the　BBC　news。　She　had　scrambled　back　into　her　clothes　while　Colin　made　inarticulate　noises　and　blundered　into　the　furniture。　They　had　called　upstairs　to　tell　their　son　where　they　were　going；　then　run　out　to　the　car。　Colin　had　driven　far　too　fast　into　Yarvil；　as　though　he　might　bring　Barry　back　if　he　could　do　the　journey　in　record　time；　outstrip　reality　and　trick　it　into　rearranging　itself。）

‘If　you　ain’　gonna　talk　to　me；　I’ll　go；’　said　Krystal。

‘Don’t　be　rude；　please；　Krystal；’　said　Tessa。　‘I’m　very　tired　this　morning。　Mr　Wall　and　I　were　at　the　hospital　last　night　with　Mr　Fairbrother’s　wife。　They’re　good　friends　of　ours。’

（Mary　had　unravelled　pletely　when　she　had　seen　Tessa；　flinging　her　arms　around　her；　burying　her　face　in　Tessa’s　neck　with　a　dreadful　wailing　shriek。　Even　as　Tessa’s　own　tears　began　to　splatter　down　Mary’s　narrow　back；　she　thought　quite　distinctly　that　the　noise　Mary　was　making　was　called　keening。　The　body　that　Tessa　had　so　often　envied；　slim　and　petite；　had　quaked　in　her　arms；　barely　able　to　contain　the　grief　it　was　being　asked　to　bear。

Krystal　was　chewing　on　the　tips　of　her　fingers。

‘He　were　gonna　get　me　talkin’　to　the　paper；’　she　said　abruptly。

‘What’s　that？’　asked　Tessa；　confused。

‘Mr　Fairbrother　wuz。　He　wuz　gonna　get　me　interviewed。　On　me　own。’

There　had　once　been　a　piece　in　the　local　paper　about　the　Winterdown　rowing　eight　ing　first　in　the　regional　finals。　Krystal；　whose　reading　was　poor；　had　brought　a　copy　of　the　paper　in　to　show　Tessa；　and　Tessa　had　read　the　article　aloud；　inserting　exclamations　of　delight　and　admiration。　It　had　been　the　happiest　guidance　session　she　had　ever　known。

‘Were　they　going　to　intervi