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20

Saturday, 11 August 2007


I open my eyes. This time I think I might be willing to keep them open for a while, see what happens. Everything appears to be in order. I’m still in my own bed. My favourite picture is still on the chimney breast in front of me. It’s a Thai folk painting, a present from a company I did a scoping study for in Bangkok. It’s painted on tree bark, and shows a chubby baby sitting cross-legged against an iridescent yellow background, holding a fish in its lap. Nick’s not keen on it-he says it’s too sickly-but I love it. The baby’s skin is plump and pink. The picture reminds me of my children as newborns.

‘Jake,’ I say. ‘Zoe?’ I haven’t seen them yet, haven’t heard them shouting and singing and demanding things. Then I remember the police were here. Did they send my children away?

I am about to call out again when I hear voices, a man’s and a woman’s. Not Nick. Not Esther. I blink several times as their conversation gets nearer, to check this is real. Their words make no sense to me.

‘He’s not with his family, not at home or at work, not at his mother-in-law’s…’

‘Simon, you’re not his babysitter. He’s a free, innocent man.’

Simon? Who is Simon?

‘Yeah, yeah.’

‘You don’t… there’s nothing you’re not telling me, is there? He is innocent?’

I think the woman is the cop from… when was it that I arrived home? How long ago?

‘There’s a lot I’ve not told you,’ says the man called Simon. ‘There’s been no time.’

‘What’s wrong with now?’

She sounds tired. As if she can’t be bothered any more.

‘The French/English song. Stacey’s homework-’

‘Simon, for fuck’s sake! I want to know why four people have died, not-’

‘An Englishman wrote it. All the phrases in it-“rather a giggle”, “burst into song”, “put a sock in it”, “keep your shirt on”-they’re all English sayings. The French versions of them, translated literally, wouldn’t mean the same thing. They wouldn’t mean anything, they’d be gibberish. So the French version can’t be the original. I doubt “put a sock in it” in French means give it a rest, like it does here.’

‘I doubt “give it a rest” means give it a rest.’

I have no idea what they are talking about. My home has been invaded by people who make no sense.

‘Exactly,’ Simon agrees. ‘ “Give it a rest” would mean-’

‘Let it have a nice long sleep?’ The woman laughs. I hear clapping. ‘Full marks, Detective.’

So Simon is also a police officer.

‘Remember the promise you made?’

More sniggering from the woman. ‘Are you quoting Cock Robin?’

‘What?’

‘“The Promise You Made” by Cock Robin. It was in the charts in the eighties.’ She begins to sing. A policewoman is singing outside my bedroom door.

I burst into tears. I remember the song. I loved it. ‘I want my children!’ I yell.

The door to Nick’s and my bedroom is flung open and the woman walks in. Sergeant… I’ve forgotten what she said her name was.

‘Sally, you’re awake. How are you feeling?’

The man who follows her into the room-Simon-is tall and muscly, with a prominent jaw that reminds me of the cartoon character Desperate Dan and a nose that looks as if it’s been smashed to pieces more than once. He looks wary, as if he thinks I might leap out of bed and lunge at him.

‘Where are my kids? Where’s Nick?’ I ask. My voice sounds rusty.

‘Zoe and Jake are fine, Sally,’ says the woman. ‘They’re at Nick’s mum’s, and Nick’s at the shops. He’ll be back in a minute. Do you feel able to talk to us? Would you like a glass of water first?’

It comes from nowhere: a wave of panic that forces me upright. ‘Who is an innocent man?’ I gasp.

‘What? Calm down, Sally.’

‘You were talking about him before. Who isn’t with his family, or at work or home? Tell me!’

The police officers exchange a look. Then the woman says, ‘Mark Bretherick.’

‘He’s killed him! Or he will! He’s got him, I know he has…’

Simon has gone before I can explain. I hear him thudding down the stairs, swearing.

Sergeant Whatever looks at me, then at the door, then back at me. She wants to go with him. ‘Why would Jonathan Hey want to kill Mark Bretherick?’ she asks.

‘Jonathan Hey? Who’s he?’

She stands up and shouts the name Sam.


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