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he　kept　deputizing　Samantha　to　acpany　her。　This　was　not　the　same　thing　at　all；　even　though　Samantha　was　one　of　the　few　who　managed　to　bring　a　smile　to　Howard’s　purple　vacant　face。

Nobody　seemed　to　realize　how　dreadful　the　silence　was　at　home　either。　When　the　doctors　had　told　the　family　that　recuperation　would　take　months；　Shirley　had　hoped　that　Miles　would　ask　her　to　move　into　the　spare　room　of　the　big　house　in　Church　Row；　or　that　he　might　stay　over；　from　time　to　time；　in　the　bungalow。　But　no：　she　had　been　left　alone；　quite　alone；　except　for　a　painful　three…day　period　when　she　had　played　hostess　to　Pat　and　Melly。

I’d　never　have　done　it；　she　reassured　herself；　automatically；　in　the　silent　night；　when　she　could　not　sleep。　I　never　really　meant　to。　I　was　just　upset。　I’d　never　have　done　it。

She　had　buried　Andrew’s　EpiPen　in　the　soft　earth　beneath　the　bird　table　in　the　garden；　like　a　tiny　corpse。　She　did　not　like　knowing　it　was　there。　Some　dark　evening　soon；　the　night　before　refuse…collection　day；　she　would　dig　it　up　again　and　slip　it　into　a　neighbour’s　bin。

Howard　had　not　mentioned　the　needle　to　her　or　to　anyone。　He　had　not　asked　her　why　she　had　run　away　when　she　saw　him。

Shirley　found　relief　in　long　rattling　streams　of　invective；　directed　at　the　people　who　had；　in　her　stated　opinion；　caused　the　catastrophe　that　had　fallen　on　her　family。　Parminder　Jawanda　was　the　first　of　these；　naturally；　for　her　callous　refusal　to　attend　Howard。　Then　there　were　the　two　teenagers　who；　through　their　vile　irresponsibility；　had　diverted　the　ambulance　that　might　have　reached　Howard　sooner。

The　latter　argument　was　perhaps　a　little　weak；　but　it　was　the　enjoyable　fashion　to　denigrate　Stuart　Wall　and　Krystal　Weedon；　and　Shirley　found　plenty　of　willing　listeners　in　her　immediate　circle。　What　was　more；　it　had　transpired　that　the　Wall　boy　had　been　the　Ghost　of　Barry　Fairbrother　all　along。　He　had　confessed　to　his　parents；　and　they　had　personally　telephoned　the　victims　of　the　boy’s　spite　to　apologize。　The　Ghost’s　identity　had　leaked　swiftly　into　the　wider　munity；　and　this；　coupled　with　the　knowledge　that　he　had　been　jointly　responsible　for　the　drowning　of　a　three…year…old　child；　made　abuse　of　Stuart　both　a　duty　and　a　pleasure。

Shirley　was　more　vehement　in　her　ments　than　anybody。　There　was　a　savagery　in　her　denunciations；　each　of　them　a　little　exorcism　of　the　kinship　and　admiration　she　had　felt　for　the　Ghost；　and　a　repudiation　of　that　awful　last　post　which　nobody　else；　as　yet；　had　admitted　to　seeing。　The　Walls　had　not　telephoned　Shirley　to　apologize；　but　she　was　constantly　primed；　in　case　the　boy　should　mention　it　to　his　parents；　or　in　case　anybody　should　bring　it　up；　to　deliver　a　final　crushing　blow　to　Stuart’s　reputation。

‘Oh　yes；　Howard　and　I　know　all　about　it；’　she　planned　to　say；　with　icy　dignity；　‘and　it’s　my　belief　that　the　shock　caused　his　heart　attack。’

She　had　actually　practised　saying　this　aloud　in　the　kitchen。

The　question　of　whether　Stuart　Wall　had　really　known　something　about　her　husband　and　Maureen　was　less　urgent　now；　because　Howard　was　patently　incapable　of　shaming　her　in　that　way　again；　and　perhaps　never　would　be；　and　nobody　seemed　to　be　gossiping。　And　if　the　silence　she　offered　Howard；　when　she　was　unavoidably　alone　with　him；　was　tinged　with　a　sense　of　grievance　on　both　sides；　she　was　able　to　face　the　prospect　of　his　protracted　incapacitation　and　absence　from　the　house　with　more　equanimity　than　she　might　have　thought　possible　three　weeks　previously。

The　doorbell　rang　and　Shirley　hurried　to　open　it。　Maureen　was　there；　hobbling　on　ill…advised　high　heels；　garish　in　bright　aquamarine。

‘Hello；　dear；　e　in；’　said　Shirley。　‘I’ll　get　my　bag。’

‘They’re　saying　people　got　up　a　collection；’　said　Maureen；　brimful　of　gossip　that　Shirley　had　somehow　missed；　in　her　endless　back　and　forward　trips　to　the　hospital。　‘Don’t　ask　me　who。　Anyway；　I　wouldn’t　have　thought　the　family　would　want　it　right　by　the　river；　would　you？’

（The　dirty　and　foul…mouthed　little　boy；　of　whose　existence　few　had　been　aware；　and　of　whom　nobody　but　his　mother　and　sister　had　been　especially　fond；　had　undergone　such　a　transformation　in　Pagford’s　collective　mind　by　his　drowning；　that　he　was　spoken　of　everywhere　as　a　water　baby；　a　cherub；　a　pure　and　gentle　angel　whom　all　would　have　embraced　with　love　and　passion；　if　only　they　could　have　saved　him。

But　the　needle　and　the　flame　had　had　no　transformative　effect　upon　Krystal’s　reputation；　on　the　contrary；　they　had　fixed　her　permanently　in　the　mind　of　Old　Pagford　as　a　soulless　creature　whose　pursuit　of　what　the　elderly　liked　to　call　kicks　had　led　to　the　death　of　an　innocent　child。）

Shirley　was　pulling　on　her　coat。

‘You　realize；　I　actually　saw　them　that　day？’　she　said；　her　cheeks　turning　pink。　‘The　boy　bawling　by　one　clump　of　bushes；　and　Krystal　Weedon　and　Stuart　Wall　in　another—’

‘Did　you？　And　were　they　really　…？’　asked　Maureen　avidly。

‘Oh　yes；’　said　Shirley。　‘Broad　daylight。　Open　air。　And　the　boy　was　right　by　the　river　when　I　saw　him。　A　couple　of　steps　and　he’d　have　been　in。’

Something　in　Maureen’s　expression　stung　her。

‘I　was　hurrying；’　said　Shirley　with　asperity；　‘because　Howard　had　said　he　was　feeling　poorly　and　I　was　worried　sick。　I　didn’t　want　to　go　out　at　all；　but　Miles　and　Samantha　had　sent　Lexie　over　–　I　think；　if　you　want　my　honest　opinion；　they’d　had　a　row　–　and　then　Lexie　wanted　to　visit　the　café　–　I　was　absolutely　distracted；　and　all　I　could　think　was；　I　must　get　back　to　Howard　…　I　didn’t　actually　realize　what　I’d　seen　until　much　later　…　and　the　dreadful　thing；’　said　Shirley；　her　colour　higher　than　ever；　and　returning　again　to　her　favourite　refrain；　‘is　that　if　Krystal　Weedon　hadn’t　let　that　child　wander　off　while　she　was　having　her　fun　in　the　bushes；　the　ambulance　would　have　reached　Howard　so　much　more　quickly。　Because；　you　know；　with　two　of　them　ing　…　things　got　confu—’

‘That’s　right；’　said　Maureen；　interrupting　as　they　moved　out　towards　the　car；　because　she　had　heard　all　this　before。　‘You　know；　I　can’t　think　why　they’re　having　the　service　here　in　Pagford　…’

She　longed　to　suggest　that　they　drive　past　the　church　on　the　way　to　the　hospital　–　she　had　a　craving　to　see　what　the　Weedon　family　looked　like　en　masse；　and　to　glimpse；　perhaps；　that　degenerate　junkie　mother　–　but　could　think　of　no　way　to　frame　the　request。

‘You　know；　there’s　one　fort；　Shirley；’　she　said；　as　they　set　off　for　the　bypass。　‘The　Fields　are　as　good　as　gone。　That　must　be　a　fort　to　Howard。　Even　if　he　can’t　attend　council　for　a　while；　he　got　that　done。’

Andrew　Price　was　speeding　down　the　steep　hill　from　Hilltop　House；　with　the　sun　hot　on　his　back　and　the　wind　in　his　hair。　His　week…old　shiner　had　turned　yellow　and　green；　and　looked；　if　possible；　even　worse　than　it　had　when　he　had　turned　up　at　school　with　his　eye　almost　closed。　Andrew　had　told　the　teachers　who　enquired　that　he　had　fallen　off　his　bike。

It　was　now　the　Easter　holidays；　and　Gaia　had　texted　Andrew　the　previous　evening　to　ask　whether　he　would　be　going　to　Krystal’s　funeral　the　next　day。　He　had　sent　an　immediate　‘yes’；　and　was　now　dressed；　after　much　deliberation；　in　his　cleanest　jeans　and　a　dark　grey　shirt；　because　he　did　not　own　a　suit。

He　was　not　very　clear　why　Gaia　was　going　to　the　funeral；　unless　it　was　to　be　with　Sukhvinder　Jawanda；　to　whom　she　seemed　to　cling　more　fondly　than　ever；　now　that　she　was　moving　back　to　London　with　her　mother。

‘Mum　says　she　should　never　have　e　to　Pagford；’　Gaia　had　told　Andrew　and　Sukhvinder　happily；　as　the　three　of　them　sat　on　the　low　wall　beside　the　newsagent’s　at　lunchtime。　‘She　knows　Gavin’s　a　total　twat。’

She　had　given　Andrew　her　mobile　number　and　told　him　that　they　would　go　out　together　when　she　came　to　Reading　to　see　her　father；　and　even　mentioned；　casually；　taking　him　to　see　some　of　her　favourite　places　in　London；　if　he　visited。　She　was　showering　benefits　around　her　in　the　manner　of　a　demob…happy　soldier；　and　these　promises；　made　so　lightly；　gilded　the　prospect　of　Andrew’s　own　move。　He　had　greeted　the　news　that　his　parents　had　had　an　offer　on　Hilltop　House　with　at　least　as　much　excitement　as　pain。

The　sweeping　turn　into　Church　Row；　usually　made　with　an　uplift　of　spirits；　dampened　them。　He　could　see　people　moving　around　in　the　graveyard；　and　he　wondered　what　this　funeral　was　going　to　be　like；　and　for　the　first　time　that　morning　thought　of　Krystal　Weedon　in　more　than　the　abstract。

A　memory；　long　buried　in　the　deepest　recesses　of　his　mind；　came　back　to　him；　of　that　time　in　the　playground　at　St　Thomas’s；　when　Fats；　in　a　spirit　of　disinterested　investigation；　had　handed　him　a　peanut　hidden　inside　a　marshmallow　…　he　could　still　feel　his　burning　throat　closing　inexorably。　He　remembered　trying　to　yell；　and　his　knees　giving　way；　and　the　children　all　around　him；　watching　with　a　strange；　bloodless　interest；　and　then　Krystal　Weedon’s　raucous　scream。

‘Andiprice　iz　’avin’　a　’lurgycacshun！’

She　had　run；　on　her　stocky　little　legs；　all　the　way　to　the　staff　room；　and　the　headmaster　had　snatched　Andrew　up　and　sprinted　with　him　to　the　nearby　surgery；　where　Dr　Crawford　had　administered　adrenalin。　She　was　the　only　one　who　had　remembered　the　talk　that　their　teacher　had　given　the　class；　explaining　Andrew’s　life…threatening　condition；　the　only　one　to　recognize　his　symptoms。

Krystal　ought　to　have　been　given　a　gold　merit　star；　and　perhaps　a　certificate　at　assembly　as　Pupil　of　the　Week；　but　the　very　next　day　（Andrew　remembered　it　as　clearly　as　his　own　collapse）　she　had　hit　Lexie　Mollison　so　hard　in　the　mouth　that　she　had　knocked　out　two　of　Lexie’s　teeth。

He　wheeled　Simon’s　bike　carefully　into　the　Walls’　garage；　then　rang　the　doorbell　with　a　reluctance　that　had　never　been　there　before。　Tessa　Wall　answered；　dressed　in　her　best　grey　coat。　Andrew　was　annoyed　with　her；　it　was　down　to　her　that　he　had　a　black　eye。

‘e　in；　Andy；’　said　Tessa；　and　her　expression　was　tense。　‘We’ll　just　be　a　minute。’

He　waited　in　the　hallway；　where　the　coloured　glass　over　the　door　cast　its　paintboxy　glow　on　the　floorboards。　Tessa　marched　into　the　kitchen；　and　Andrew　glimpsed　Fats　in　his　black　suit；　crumpled　up　in　a　kitchen　chair　like　a　crushed　spider；　with　one　arm　over　his　head；　as　if　he　were　fending　off　blows。

Andrew　turned　his　back。　The　two　boys　had　had　no　munication　since　Andrew　had　led　Tessa　to　the　Cubby　Hole。　Fats　had　not　been　to　school　for　a　fortnight。　Andrew　had　sent　a　couple　of　texts；　but　Fats　had　not　replied。　His　Facebook　page　remained　frozen　as　it　had　been　on　the　day　of　Howard　Mollison’s　party。

A　week　ago；　without　warning；　Tessa　had　telephoned　the　Prices；　told　them　that　Fats　had　admitted　to　having　posted　the　messages　under　the　name　The_Ghost_of_Barry_Fairbrother；　and　offered　her　deepest　apologies　for　the　consequences　they　had　suffered。

‘So　how　did　he　know　I　had　that　puter？’　Simon　had　roared；　advancing　on　Andrew。　‘How　did　fucking　Fats　Wall　know　I　did　jobs　after…hours　at　the　printworks？’

Andrew’s　only　consolation　was　that　if　his　father　had　known　the　truth；　he　might　have　ignored　Ruth’s　protests　and　continued　to　pummel　Andrew　until　he　was　unconscious。

Why　Fats　had　decided　to　pretend　he　had　authored　all　the　posts；　Andrew　did　not　know。　Perhaps　it　was　Fats’　ego　at　work；　his　determination　to　be　the　mastermind；　the　most　destructive；　the　baddest　of　them　all。　Perhaps　he　had　thought　he　was　doing　something　noble；　taking　the　fall　for　both　of　them。　Either　way；　Fats　had　caused　much　more　trouble　than　he　knew；　he　had　never　realized；　thought　Andrew；　waiting　in　the　hall；　what　it　was　like　to　live　with　a　father　like　Simon　Price；　safe　in　his　attic　room；　with　his　reasonable；　civilized　parents。

Andrew　could　hear　the　adult　Walls　talking　in　quiet　voices；　they　had　not　closed　the　kitchen　door。

‘We　need　to　leave　now；’　Tessa　was　saying。　‘He’s　got　a　moral　obligation　and　he’s　going。’

‘He’s　had　enough　punishment；’　said　Cubby’s　voice。

‘I’m　not　asking　him　to　go　as　a—’

‘Aren’t　you？’　said　Cubby　sharply。　‘For　God’s　sake；　Tessa。　D’you　think　they’ll　want　him　there？　You　go。　Stu　can　stay　here　with　me。’

A　minute　later　Tessa　emerged　from　the　kitchen；　closing　the　door　firmly　behind　her。

‘Stu　isn’t　ing；　Andy；’　s