首发偶发空缺 (临时空缺)-第54章

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he　council　about　the　state　of　Terri’s　garden。　Fuck　them；　fuck　them；　fuck　them　…

She　was　jogging　along；　trying　to　outrun　the　memories。

You　don’t　even　know　who　the　father　is；　do　yeh；　yer　whore？　I’m　washin’　my　’ands　of　yeh；　Terri；　I’ve　’ad　enough。

That　had　been　the　last　time　they　had　ever　spoken；　and　Nana　Cath　had　called　her　what　everyone　else　called　her；　and　Terri　had　responded　in　kind。

Fuck　you；　then；　you　miserable　old　cow；　fuck　you。

She　had　never　said；　‘You　let　me　down；　Nana　Cath。’　She　had　never　said；　‘Why　didn’t　you　keep　me？’　She　had　never　said；　‘I　loved　you　more　than　anyone；　Nana　Cath。’

She　hoped　to　God　Obbo　was　back。　He　was　supposed　to　be　back　today；　today　or　tomorrow。　She　had　to　have　some。　She　had　to。

‘All　righ’；　Terri？’

‘Seen　Obbo？’　she　asked　the　boy　who　was　smoking　and　drinking　on　the　wall　outside　the　off　licence。　The　scars　on　her　back　felt　as　though　they　were　burning　again。

He　shook　his　head；　chewing；　leering　at　her。　She　hurried　on。　Nagging　thoughts　of　the　social　worker；　of　Krystal；　of　Robbie：　more　buzzing　flies；　but　they　were　like　the　staring　neighbours；　judges　all；　they　did　not　understand　the　terrible　urgency　of　her　need。

（Nana　Cath　had　collected　her　from　the　hospital　and　taken　her　home　to　the　spare　room。　It　had　been　the　cleanest；　prettiest　room　Terri　had　ever　slept　in。　On　each　of　the　three　evenings　she　had　spent　there；　she　had　sat　up　in　bed　after　Nana　Cath　had　kissed　her　goodnight；　and　rearranged　the　ornaments　beside　her　on　the　windowsill。　There　had　been　a　tinkling　bunch　of　glass　flowers　in　a　glass　vase；　a　plastic　pink　paperweight　with　a　shell　in　it　and　Terri’s　favourite；　a　rearing　pottery　horse　with　a　silly　smile　on　its　face。

‘I　like　horses；’　she　had　told　Nana　Cath。

There　had　been　a　school　trip　to　the　agricultural　show；　in　the　days　before　Terri’s　mother　had　left。　The　class　had　met　a　gigantic　black　Shire　covered　in　horse　brasses。　She　was　the　only　one　brave　enough　to　stroke　it。　The　smell　had　intoxicated　her。　She　had　hugged　its　column　of　a　leg；　ending　in　the　massive　feathered　white　hoof；　and　felt　the　living　flesh　beneath　the　hair；　while　her　teacher　said；　‘Careful；　Terri；　careful！’　and　the　old　man　with　the　horse　had　smiled　at　her　and　told　her　it　was　quite　safe；　Samson　wouldn’t　hurt　a　nice　little　girl　like　her。

The　pottery　horse　was　a　different　colour：　yellow　with　a　black　mane　and　tail。

‘You　can　’ave　it；’　Nana　Cath　told　her；　and　Terri　had　known　true　ecstasy。

But　on　the　fourth　morning　her　father　had　arrived。

‘You’re　in’　home；’　he　had　said；　and　the　look　on　his　face　had　terrified　her。　‘You’re　not　stayin’　with　that　fuckin’　grassin’　old　cow。　No；　you　ain’t。　No；　you　ain’t；　you　little　bitch。’

Nana　Cath　was　as　frightened　as　Terri。

‘Mikey；　no；’　she　kept　bleating。　Some　of　the　neighbours　were　peering　through　the　windows。　Nana　Cath　had　Terri　by　one　arm；　and　her　father　had　the　other。

‘You’re　ing　home　with　me！’

He　blacked　Nana　Cath’s　eye。　He　dragged　Terri　into　his　car。　When　he　got　her　back　to　the　house；　he　beat　and　kicked　every　bit　of　her　he　could　reach。）

‘Seen　Obbo？’　Terri　shouted　at　Obbo’s　neighbour；　from　fifty　yards　away。　‘Is　’e　back？’

‘I　dunno；’　said　the　woman；　turning　away。

（When　Michael　was　not　beating　Terri；　he　was　doing　the　other　things　to　her；　the　things　she　could　not　talk　about。　Nana　Cath　did　not　e　any　more。　Terri　ran　away　at　thirteen；　but　not　to　Nana　Cath’s；　she　did　not　want　her　father　to　find　her。　They　caught　her　anyway；　and　put　her　into　care。）

Terri　thumped　on　Obbo’s　door　and　waited。　She　tried　again；　but　nobody　came。　She　sank　onto　the　doorstep；　shaking　and　began　to　cry。

Two　truanting　Winterdown　girls　glanced　at　her　as　they　passed。

‘Tha’s　Krystal　Weedon’s　mum；’　one　of　them　said　loudly。

‘The　prozzie？’　the　other　replied　at　the　top　of　her　voice。

Terri　could　not　muster　the　strength　to　swear　at　them；　because　she　was　crying　so　hard。　Snorting　and　giggling；　the　girls　strode　out　of　sight。

‘Whore！’　one　of　them　called　back　from　the　end　of　the　street。

III
Gavin　could　have　invited　Mary　into　his　office　to　discuss　the　most　recent　exchange　of　letters　with　the　insurance　pany；　but　decided　to　visit　her　at　home　instead。　He　had　kept　the　late　afternoon　free　of　appointments；　on　the　off…chance　that　she　might　ask　him　to　stay　for　something　to　eat；　she　was　a　fantastic　cook。

His　instinctive　shying　away　from　her　naked　grief　had　been　dissipated　by　regular　contact。　He　had　always　liked　Mary；　but　Barry　had　eclipsed　her　in　pany。　Not　that　she　ever　appeared　to　dislike　her　supporting　role；　on　the　contrary；　she　had　seemed　delighted　to　beautify　the　background；　happy　laughing　at　Barry’s　jokes；　happy　simply　to　be　with　him。

Gavin　doubted　that　Kay　had　ever　been　happy　to　play　second　fiddle　in　her　life。　Crashing　the　gears　as　he　drove　up　Church　Row；　he　thought　that　Kay　would　have　been　outraged　by　any　suggestion　that　she　modify　her　behaviour　or　suppress　her　opinions　for　the　sake　of　her　partner’s　enjoyment；　his　happiness　or　his　self…esteem。

He　did　not　think　that　he　had　ever　been　unhappier　in　a　relationship　than　he　was　now。　Even　in　the　death　throes　of　the　affair　with　Lisa；　there　had　been　temporary　truces；　laughs；　sudden　poignant　reminders　of　better　times。　The　situation　with　Kay　was　like　war。　Sometimes　he　forgot　that　there　was　supposed　to　be　any　affection　between　them；　did　she　even　like　him？

They　had　had　their　worst　ever　argument　by　telephone　on　the　morning　after　Miles　and　Samantha’s　dinner　party。　Eventually；　Kay　had　slammed　down　the　receiver；　cutting　Gavin　off。　For　a　full　twenty…four　hours　he　had　believed　that　their　relationship　was　at　an　end；　and　although　this　was　what　he　wanted　he　had　experienced　more　fear　than　relief。　In　his　fantasies；　Kay　simply　disappeared　back　to　London；　but　the　reality　was　that　she　had　tethered　herself　to　Pagford　with　a　job　and　a　daughter　at　Winterdown。　He　faced　the　prospect　of　bumping　into　her　wherever　he　went　in　the　tiny　town。　Perhaps　she　was　already　poisoning　the　well　of　gossip　against　him；　he　imagined　her　repeating　some　of　the　things　she　had　said　to　him　on　the　telephone　to　Samantha；　or　to　that　nosy　old　woman　in　the　delicatessen　who　gave　him　goose…flesh。

I　uprooted　my　daughter　and　left　my　job　and　moved　house　for　you；　and　you　treat　me　like　a　hooker　you　don’t　have　to　pay。

People　would　say　that　he　had　behaved　badly。　Perhaps　he　had　behaved　badly。　There　must　have　been　a　crucial　point　when　he　ought　to　have　pulled　back；　but　he　had　not　seen　it。

Gavin　spent　the　whole　weekend　brooding　on　how　it　would　feel　to　be　seen　as　the　bad　guy。　He　had　never　been　in　that　position　before。　After　Lisa　had　left　him；　everybody　had　been　kind　and　sympathetic；　especially　the　Fairbrothers。　Guilt　and　dread　dogged　him　until；　on　Sunday　evening；　he　cracked　and　called　Kay　to　apologize。　Now　he　was　back　where　he　did　not　want　to　be；　and　he　hated　Kay　for　it。

Parking　his　car　in　the　Fairbrothers’　drive；　as　he　had　done　so　often　when　Barry　was　alive；　he　headed　for　the　front　door；　noticing　that　somebody　had　mowed　the　lawn　since　he　had　last　called。　Mary　answered　his　ring　on　the　doorbell　almost　instantaneously。

‘Hi；　how　–　Mary；　what’s　wrong？’

Her　whole　face　was　wet；　her　eyes　brimming　with　diamond…bright　tears。　She　gulped　once　or　twice；　shook　her　head；　and　then；　without　quite　knowing　how　it　had　happened；　Gavin　found　himself　holding　her　in　his　arms　on　the　doorstep。

‘Mary？　Has　something　happened？’

He　felt　her　nod。　Acutely　aware　of　their　exposed　position；　of　the　open　road　behind　him；　Gavin　manoeuvred　her　inside。　She　was　small　and　fragile　in　his　arms；　her　fingers　clutched　at　him；　her　face　pressed　into　his　coat。　He　relinquished　his　briefcase　as　gently　as　he　could；　but　the　sound　of　it　hitting　the　floor　made　her　withdraw　from　him；　her　breath　short　as　she　covered　her　mouth　with　her　hands。

‘I’m　sorry　…　I’m　sorry　…　oh　God；　Gav　…’

‘What’s　happened？’

His　voice　sounded　different　from　usual：　forceful；　take　mand；　more　like　the　way　Miles　sometimes　talked　in　a　crisis　at　work。

‘Someone’s　put　…　I　don’t　…　someone’s　put　Barry’s　…’

She　beckoned　him　into　the　home　office；　cluttered；　shabby　and　cosy；　with　Barry’s　old　rowing　trophies　on　the　shelves；　and　a　big　framed　photograph　on　the　wall　of　eight　teenage　girls　punching　the　air；　with　medals　around　their　necks。　Mary　pointed　a　trembling　finger　at　the　puter　screen。　Still　in　his　coat；　Gavin　dropped　into　the　chair　and　stared　at　the　message　board　of　Pagford　Parish　Council’s　website。

‘I　w…was　in　the　delicatessen　this　morning；　and　Maureen　Lowe　told　me　that　lots　of　people　had　put　messages　of　condolence　on　the　site　…　so　I　was　going　to　p…post　a　message　to　s…say　thank　you。　And　–　look　…’

He　spotted　it　as　she　spoke。　Simon　Price　Unfit　to　Stand　for　Council；　posted　by　The　Ghost　of　Barry　Fairbrother。

‘Jesus　Christ；’　said　Gavin　in　disgust。

Mary　dissolved　into　tears　again。　Gavin　wanted　to　put　his　arms　back　around　her；　but　was　afraid　to；　especially　here；　in　this　snug　little　room　so　full　of　Barry。　He　promised　by　taking　hold　of　her　thin　wrist　and　leading　her　through　the　hall　into　the　kitchen。

‘You　need　a　drink；’　he　told　her；　in　that　unfamiliarly　strong　and　manding　voice。　‘Sod　coffee。　Where’s　the　proper　stuff？’

But　he　remembered　before　she