首发偶发空缺 (临时空缺)-第15部分

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‘Hello；　handsome；’　said　Maureen；　in　her　deep；　gravelly　voice。　‘Give　me　a　kiss。’

Howard’s　business　partner　was　sitting　in　a　corner　of　the　sofa；　clutching　a　tiny　glass　of　sherry。　She　was　wearing　a　fuchsia　pink　dress　with　dark　stockings　and　high　patent…leather　heels。　Her　jet…black　hair　was　heavily　lacquered　into　a　bouffant；　beneath　which　her　face　was　pale　and　monkeyish；　with　a　thick　smear　of　shocking　pink　lipstick　that　puckered　as　Miles　bent　low　to　kiss　her　cheek。

‘Been　talking　business。　Plans　for　the　new　café。　Hello；　Sam；　sweetheart；’　Maureen　added；　patting　the　sofa　beside　her。　‘Oh；　you　are　lovely　and　tanned；　is　that　still　from　Ibiza？　e　sit　down　by　me。　What　a　shock　for　you　at　the　golf　club。　It　must　have　been　ghastly。’

‘Yes；　it　was；’　said　Samantha。

And　for　the　first　time　she　found　herself　telling　somebody　the　story　of　Barry’s　death；　while　Miles　hovered；　looking　for　a　chance　to　interrupt。　Howard　handed　out　large　glasses　of　Pinot　Grigio；　paying　close　attention　to　Samantha’s　account。　Gradually；　in　the　glow　of　Howard　and　Maureen’s　interest；　with　the　alcohol　kindling　a　forting　fire　inside　her；　the　tension　Samantha　had　carried　with　her　for　two　days　seemed　to　drain　away　and　a　fragile　sense　of　well…being　blossomed。

The　room　was　warm　and　spotless。　Shelving　units　on　either　side　of　the　gas　fire　displayed　an　array　of　ornamental　china；　nearly　all　of　it　memorating　some　royal　landmark　or　anniversary　of　the　reign　of　Elizabeth　II。　A　small　bookcase　in　the　corner　contained　a　mixture　of　royal　biographies　and　the　glossy　cookbooks　that　had　overrun　the　kitchen。　Photographs　adorned　the　shelves　and　walls：　Miles　and　his　younger　sister　Patricia　beamed　from　a　twin　frame　in　matching　school　uniforms；　Miles　and　Samantha’s　two　daughters；　Lexie　and　Libby；　were　represented　over　and　again　from　babyhood　to　teens。　Samantha　figured　only　once　in　the　family　gallery；　though　in　one　of　the　largest　and　most　prominent　pictures。　It　showed　her　and　Miles’　wedding　day　sixteen　years　before。　Miles　was　young　and　handsome；　piercing　blue　eyes　crinkled　at　the　photographer；　whereas　Samantha’s　eyes　were　closed　in　a　half　blink；　her　face　was　turned　sideways；　her　chin　was　doubled　by　her　smile　at　a　different　lens。　The　white　satin　of　her　dress　strained　across　breasts　already　swollen　with　her　early　pregnancy；　making　her　look　huge。

One　of　Maureen’s　thin　claw…like　hands　was　playing　with　the　chain　she　always　wore　around　her　neck；　on　which　hung　a　crucifix　and　her　late　husband’s　wedding　ring。　When　Samantha　reached　the　point　in　her　story　where　the　doctor　told　Mary　that　there　was　nothing　they　could　do；　Maureen　put　her　free　hand　on　Samantha’s　knee　and　squeezed。
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‘Dishing　up！’　called　Shirley。　Though　she　had　not　wanted　to　e；　Samantha　felt　better　than　she　had　in　two　days。　Maureen　and　Howard　were　treating　her　like　a　mixture　of　heroine　and　invalid；　and　both　of　them　patted　her　gently　on　the　back　as　she　passed　them　on　her　way　into　the　dining　room。

Shirley　had　turned　down　the　dimmer　switch；　and　lit　long　pink　candles　to　match　the　wallpaper　and　the　best　napkins。　The　steam　rising　from　their　soup　plates　in　the　gloom　made　even　Howard’s　wide；　florid　face　look　otherworldly。　Having　drunk　almost　to　the　bottom　of　her　big　wine　glass；　Samantha　thought　how　funny　it　would　be　if　Howard　announced　that　they　were　about　to　hold　a　séance；　to　ask　Barry　for　his　own　account　of　the　events　at　the　golf　club。

‘Well；’　said　Howard；　in　a　deep　voice；　‘I　think　we　ought　to　raise　our　glasses　to　Barry　Fairbrother。’

Samantha　tipped　back　her　glass　quickly；　to　stop　Shirley　seeing　that　she　had　already　downed　most　of　its　contents。

‘It　was　almost　certainly　an　aneurysm；’　announced　Miles；　the　instant　the　glasses　had　landed　back　on　the　tablecloth。　He　had　withheld　this　information　even　from　Samantha；　and　he　was　glad；　because　she　might　have　squandered　it　just　now；　while　talking　to　Maureen　and　Howard。　‘Gavin　phoned　Mary　to　give　the　firm’s　condolences　and　touch　base　about　the　will；　and　Mary　confirmed　it。　Basically；　an　artery　in　his　head　swelled　up　and　burst’　（he　had　looked　up　the　term　on　the　inter；　once　he　had　found　out　how　to　spell　it；　back　in　his　office　after　speaking　to　Gavin）。　‘Could　have　happened　at　any　time。　Some　sort　of　inborn　weakness。’

‘Ghastly；’　said　Howard；　but　then　he　noticed　that　Samantha’s　glass　was　empty；　and　heaved　himself　out　of　his　chair　to　top　it　up。　Shirley　drank　soup　for　a　while　with　her　eyebrows　hovering　near　her　hairline。　Samantha　slugged　down　more　wine　in　defiance。

‘D’you　know　what？’　she　said；　her　tongue　slightly　unwieldy；　‘I　thought　I　saw　him　on　the　way　here。　In　the　dark。　Barry。’

‘I　expect　it　was　one　of　his　brothers；’　said　Shirley　dismissively。　‘They’re　all　alike。’

But　Maureen　croaked　over　Shirley；　drowning　her　out。

‘I　thought　I　saw　Ken；　the　evening　after　he　died。　Clear　as　day；　standing　in　the　garden；　looking　up　at　me　through　the　kitchen　window。　In　the　middle　of　his　roses。’

Nobody　responded；　they　had　heard　the　story　before。　A　minute　passed；　full　of　nothing　but　soft　slurps；　then　Maureen　spoke　again　with　her　raven’s　caw。

‘Gavin’s　quite　friendly　with　the　Fairbrothers；　isn’t　he；　Miles？　Doesn’t　he　play　squash　with　Barry？　Didn’t　he；　I　should　say。’

‘Yeah；　Barry　thrashed　him　once　a　week。　Gavin　must　be　a　lousy　player；　Barry　had　ten　years　on　him。’

Near　identical　expressions　of　placent　amusement　touched　the　candlelit　faces　of　the　three　women　around　the　table。　If　nothing　else；　they　had　in　mon　a　slightly　perverse　interest　in　Miles’　stringy　young　business　partner。　In　Maureen’s　case；　this　was　merely　a　manifestation　of　her　inexhaustible　appetite　for　all　the　gossip　of　Pagford；　and　the　goings…on　of　a　young　bachelor　were　prime　meat。　Shirley　took　a　particular　pleasure　in　hearing　all　about　Gavin’s　inferiorities　and　insecurities；　because　these　threw　into　delicious　contrast　the　achievements　and　self…assertion　of　the　twin　gods　of　her　life；　Howard　and　Miles。　But　in　the　case　of　Samantha；　Gavin’s　passivity　and　caution　awoke　a　feline　cruelty；　she　had　a　powerful　desire　to　see　him　slapped　awake；　pulled　into　line　or　otherwise　mauled　by　a　feminine　surrogate。　She　bullied　him　a　little　in　person　whenever　they　met；　taking　pleasure　in　the　conviction　that　he　found　her　overwhelming；　hard　to　handle。

‘So　how　are　things　going；　these　days；’　asked　Maureen；　‘with　his　lady　friend　from　London？’

‘She’s　not　in　London　any　more；　Mo。　She’s　moved　into　Hope　Street；’　said　Miles。　‘And　if　you　ask　me；　he’s　regretting　he　ever　went　near　her。　You　know　Gavin。　Born　with　cold　feet。’

Miles　had　been　a　few　years　above　Gavin　at　school；　and　there　was　forever　a　trace　of　the　sixth…form　prefect　in　the　way　he　spoke　about　his　business　partner。

‘Dark　girl？　Very　short　hair？’

‘That’s　her；’　said　Miles。　‘Social　worker。　Flat　shoes。’

‘Then　we’ve　had　her　in　the　deli；　haven’t　we；　How？’　said　Maureen　excitedly。　‘I　wouldn’t　have　had　her　down　as　much　of　a　cook；　though；　not　by　the　look　of　her。’

Roast　loin　of　pork　followed　the　soup。　With　the　connivance　of　Howard；　Samantha　was　sliding　gently　towards　contented　drunkenness；　but　something　in　her　was　making　forlorn　protests；　like　a　man　swept　out　to　sea。　She　attempted　to　drown　it　in　more　wine。
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A　pause　rolled　out　across　the　table　like　a　fresh　tablecloth；　pristine　and　expectant；　and　this　time　everybody　seemed　to　know　that　it　was　for　Howard　to　set　out　the　new　topic。　He　ate　for　a　while；　big　mouthfuls　washed　down　with　wine；　apparently　oblivious　to　their　eyes　upon　him。　Finally；　having　cleared　half　his　plate；　he　dabbed　at　his　mouth　with　his　napkin　and　spoke。

‘Yes；　it　will　be　interesting　to　see　what　happens　on　council　now。’　He　was　forced　to　pause　to　suppress　a　powerful　burp；　for　a　moment　he　looked　as　if　he　might　be　sick。　He　thumped　his　chest。　‘Pardon　me。　Yes。　It’ll　be　very　interesting　indeed。　With　Fairbrother　gone’　–　business…like；　Howard　reverted　to　the　form　of　the　name　he　habitually　used　–　‘I　can’t　see　his　article　for　the　paper　ing　off。　Unless　Bends…Your…Ear　takes　it　on；　obviously；’　he　added。

Howard　had　dubbed　Parminder　Jawanda　‘Bends…Your…Ear　Bhutto’　after　her　first　attendance　as　a　parish　councillor。　It　was　a　popular　joke　among　the　anti…Fielders。

‘The　look　on　her　face；’　said　Maureen；　addressing　Shirley。　‘The　look　on　her　face；　when　we　told　her。　Well　…　I　always　thought　…　you　know　…’

Samantha　pricked　up　her　ears；　but　Maureen’s　insinuation　was　surely　laughable。　Parminder　was　married　to　the　most　gorgeous　man　in　Pagford：　Vikram；　tall　and　well　made；　with　an　aquiline　nose；　eyes　fringed　with　thick　black　lashes；　and　a　lazy；　knowing　smile。　For　years；　Samantha　had　tossed　back　her　hair　and　laughed　more　often　than　necessary　whenever　she　paused　in　the　street　to　pass　the　time　of　day　with　Vikram；　who　had　the　same　kind　of　body　Miles　had　had　before　he　had　given　up　rugby　and　bee　soft　and　paunchy。

Samantha　had　heard　somewhere；　not　long　after　they　had　bee　her　neighbours；　that　Vikram　and　Parminder　had　had　an　arranged　marriage。　She　had　found　this　idea　unspeakably　erotic。　Imagine　being　ordered　to　marry　Vikram；　having　to　do　it；　she　had　wrought　a　little　fantasy　in　which　she　was　veiled　and　shown　into　a　room；　a　virgin　condemned　to　her　fate　…　Imagine　looking　up；　and　knowing　you　were　getting　that　…　Not　to　mention　the　additional　frisson　of　his　job：　that　much　responsibility　would　have　given　a　much　uglier　man　sex　appeal　…　

（Vikram　had　performed　Howard’s　quadruple　bypass；　seven　years　previously。　In　consequence；　Vikram　could　not　enter　Mollison　and　Lowe　without　being　subjected　to　a　barrage　of　jocular　banter。

‘To　the　head　of　the　queue；　please；　Mr　Jawanda！　Move　aside；　please；　ladies　–　no；　Mr　Jawanda；　I　insist　–　this　man　saved　my　life；　patched　up　the　old　ticker　–　what　will　it　be；　Mr　Jawanda；　sir？’

Howard　always　insisted　that　Vikram　take　free　samples　and　a　little　extra　of　everything　he　bought。　In　consequence；　Samantha　suspected；　of　these　antics；　Vikram　almost　never　entered　the　delicatessen　any　more。）

She　had　lost　the　thread　of　the　conversation；　but　it　did　not　matter。　The　others　were　still　droning　on　about　something　that　Barry　Fairbrother　had　written　to　the　local　paper。
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‘…　was　going　to　have　to　talk　to　him　about　it；’　boomed　Howard。　‘It　was　a　very　underhand　way　of　doing　things。　Well；　well；　that’s　water　under　the　bridge　now。

‘What　we　should　be　thinking　about　is　who’s　going　to　replace　Fairbrother。　We　shouldn’t　underestimate　Bends…Your…Ear；　however　upset　she　might　be。　That　would　be　a　great　mistake。　She’s　probably　trying　to　rustle　up　somebody　already；　so　we　ought　to　be　thinking　about　a　decent　replacement　ourselves。　Sooner　rather　than　later。　Simple　matter　of　good　governance。’

‘What　will　that　mean；　exactly？’　Miles　asked。　‘An　election？’

‘Possibly；’　said　Howard；　with　a　judicious　air；　‘but　I　doubt　it。　It’s　only　a　casual　vacancy。　If　there　isn’t　enough　interest　in　an　election　–　though；　as　I　say；　we　must　not　underestimate　Bends…Your…Ear　–　but　if　she　can’t　raise　nine　people　to　propose　a　public　vote；　it’ll　be　a　simple　question　of　co…opting　a　new　councillor。　In　that　case；　we’d　need　nine　members’　votes　to　get　the　co…option　ratified。　Nine’s　the　quorum。　Three　years　of　Fairbrother’s　term　of　office　left　to　run。　Worth　it。　Could　swing　the　whole　thing；　putting　one　of　our