首发偶发空缺 (临时空缺)-第79部分

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Terri　flew　from　her　house　like　a　fury；　with　her　hands　outstretched　like　claws；　and　the　policewoman　had　to　catch　her　round　the　middle　and　swing　her　away　from　Krystal；　whose　face　she　was　trying　to　lacerate。

‘Yeh　little　bitch；　yeh　little　bitch；　what’ve　yeh　done　ter　Robbie？’

Krystal　dodged　the　struggling　pair；　darted　into　the　house　and　slammed　the　front　door　behind　her。

‘For　fuck’s　sake；’　muttered　the　policeman　under　his　breath。

Miles　away　in　Hope　Street；　Kay　and　Gaia　Bawden　faced　each　other　in　the　dark　hallway。　Neither　of　them　was　tall　enough　to　replace　the　light　bulb　that　had　been　dead　for　days；　and　they　had　no　ladder。　All　day　long；　they　had　argued　and　almost　made　up；　then　argued　again。　Finally；　at　the　moment　when　reconciliation　seemed　within　touching　distance；　when　Kay　had　agreed　that　she　too　hated　Pagford；　that　it　had　all　been　a　mistake；　and　that　she　would　try　and　get　them　both　back　to　London；　her　mobile　had　rung。

‘Krystal　Weedon’s　brother’s　drowned；’　whispered　Kay；　as　she　cut　Tessa’s　call。

‘Oh；’　said　Gaia。　Knowing　that　she　ought　to　express　pity；　but　frightened　to　let　discussion　of　London　drop　before　she　had　her　mother’s　firm　mitment；　she　added；　in　a　tight　little　voice；　‘That’s　sad。’

‘It　happened　here　in　Pagford；’　said　Kay。　‘Along　the　road。　Krystal　was　with　Tessa　Wall’s　son。’

Gaia　felt　even　more　ashamed　of　letting　Fats　Wall　kiss　her。　He　had　tasted　horrible；　of　lager　and　cigarettes；　and　he　had　tried　to　feel　her　up。　She　was　worth　much　more　than　Fats　Wall；　she　knew　that。　If　it　had　even　been　Andy　Price；　she　would　have　felt　better　about　it。　Sukhvinder　had　not　returned　one　of　her　calls；　all　day　long。

‘She’ll　be　absolutely　broken　up；’　said　Kay；　her　eyes　unfocused。

‘But　there’s　nothing　you　can　do；’　said　Gaia。　‘Is　there？’

‘Well　…’　said　Kay。

‘Not　again！’　cried　Gaia。　‘It’s　always；　always　the　same！　You’re　not　her　social　worker　any　more！　What；’　she　shouted；　stamping　her　foot　as　she　had　done　when　she　was　a　little　girl；　‘about　me？’

The　police　officer　in　Foley　Road　had　already　called　a　duty　social　worker。　Terri　was　writhing　and　screaming　and　trying　to　beat　at　the　front　door；　while　from　behind　it　came　the　sounds　of　furniture　being　dragged　to　form　a　barricade。　Neighbours　were　ing　out　onto　their　doorsteps；　a　fascinated　audience　to　Terri’s　meltdown。　Somehow　the　cause　of　it　was　transmitted　through　the　watchers；　from　Terri’s　incoherent　shouts　and　the　attitudes　of　the　ominous　police。

‘The　boy’s　dead；’　they　told　each　other。　Nobody　stepped　forward　to　fort　or　calm。　Terri　Weedon　had　no　friends。

‘e　with　me；’　Kay　begged　her　mutinous　daughter。　‘I’ll　go　to　the　house　and　see　if　I　can　do　anything。　I　got　on　with　Krystal。　She’s　got　nobody。’

‘I　bet　she　was　shagging　Fats　Wall　when　it　happened！’　shouted　Gaia；　but　it　was　her　final　protest；　and　a　few　minutes　later　she　was　buckling　herself　into　Kay’s　old　Vauxhall；　glad；　in　spite　of　everything；　that　Kay　had　asked　her　along。

But　by　the　time　they　had　reached　the　bypass；　Krystal　had　found　what　she　was　looking　for：　a　bag　of　heroin　concealed　in　the　airing　cupboard；　the　second　of　two　that　Obbo　had　given　Terri　in　payment　for　Tessa　Wall’s　watch。　She　took　it；　with　Terri’s　works；　into　the　bathroom；　the　only　room　that　had　a　lock　on　the　door。

Her　aunt　Cheryl　must　have　heard　what　had　happened；　because　Krystal　could　hear　her　distinctive　raucous　yell；　added　to　Terri’s　screams；　even　through　the　two　doors。

‘You　little　bitch；　open　the　door！　Letcha　mother　see　ya！’

And　the　police　shouting；　trying　to　shut　the　two　women　up。

Krystal　had　never　shot　up　before；　but　she　had　watched　it　happen　many　times。　She　knew　about　longboats；　and　how　to　make　a　model　volcano；　and　she　knew　how　to　heat　the　spoon；　and　about　the　tiny　little　ball　of　cotton　wool　you　used　to　soak　up　the　dissolved　smack；　and　act　as　a　filter　when　you　were　filling　the　syringe。　She　knew　that　the　crook　of　the　arm　was　the　best　place　to　find　a　vein；　and　she　knew　to　lay　the　needle　as　flat　as　possible　against　the　skin。　She　knew；　because　she　had　heard　it　said；　many　times；　that　first…timers　could　not　take　what　addicts　could　manage；　and　that　was　good；　because　she　did　not　want　to　take　it。

Robbie　was　dead；　and　it　was　her　fault。　In　trying　to　save　him；　she　had　killed　him。　Flickering　images　filled　her　mind　as　her　fingers　worked　to　achieve　what　must　be　done。　Mr　Fairbrother；　running　alongside　the　canal　bank　in　his　tracksuit　as　the　crew　rowed。　Nana　Cath’s　face；　fierce　with　pain　and　love。　Robbie；　waiting　for　her　at　the　window　of　his　foster　home；　unnaturally　clean；　jumping　up　and　down　with　excitement　as　she　approached　the　front　door　…

She　could　hear　the　policeman　calling　to　her　through　the　letter　box　not　to　be　a　silly　girl；　and　the　policewoman　trying　to　quieten　Terri　and　Cheryl。

The　needle　slid　easily　into　Krystal’s　vein。　She　pressed　the　plunger　down　hard；　in　hope　and　without　regret。

By　the　time　Kay　and　Gaia　arrived；　and　the　police　decided　to　force　their　way　in；　Krystal　Weedon　had　achieved　her　only　ambition：　she　had　joined　her　brother　where　nobody　could　part　them。

Nearly　three　weeks　after　the　sirens　had　wailed　through　sleepy　Pagford；　on　a　sunny　morning　in　April；　Shirley　Mollison　stood　alone　in　her　bedroom；　squinting　at　her　reflection　in　the　mirrored　wardrobe。　She　was　making　final　adjustments　to　her　dress　before　her　now…daily　drive　to　South　West　General。　The　belt　buckle　slid　up　a　hole　tighter　than　it　had　done　a　fortnight　ago；　her　silver　hair　was　in　need　of　a　trim　and　her　grimace　against　the　sunshine　blazing　into　the　room　could　have　been　a　simple　expression　of　her　mood。
。电子书
When　Miles　acpanied　her　to　the　hospital；　she　could　let　him　do　all　the　talking　to　Howard；　which　he　did；　keeping　up　a　steady　monologue　of　Pagford　news。　She　felt　so　much　better　–　both　more　visible　and　more　protected　–　with　tall　Miles　walking　beside　her　down　the　chilly　corridors。　He　chatted　genially　to　the　nurses；　and　handed　her　in　and　out　of　the　car；　and　restored　to　her　the　sense　of　being　a　rare　creature；　worthy　of　care　and　protection。　But　Miles　could　not　e　every　day；　and　to　Shirley’s　profound　irritation　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