The lights were already flickering on and off in my head, my hand jerking every few minutes to my bag to make sure it was there. At some point, I had the sense to hand my card over and pay up. On the way home, weaving down the pavement, I called Peter and left a message, a long message my phone told me the next day, nearly an hour long, only by then I couldn’t remember what I’d said.

CHAPTER 13

THE BODIES IN THE LIBRARY

Twinkling lights were up in the market square. Christmas was a week or so off, the new millennium within touching distance.

“How’s Marc?” Em was back from London. We were eating cake in The Polly. She’d cut her hair short and it suited her, made her look simultaneously older and more elfin. The waitress asked her where she got her earrings and seemed put out when Em told her a friend had made them.

“All right, I guess.” Distant and barely speaking to me would have been more accurate. It had been worse since she left. Sometimes when he looked at me, it was like I was something he had spent a fortune on, and now wished he could take back to the shop. Em was quiet. I had the feeling she was measuring her words.

“You have to do something, Andy, get help. This is not fair. It’s just not fair on … anyone.”

I stared down at the crumbs on my plate.

“It’s not healthy, not for either of you.”

“I know I’m not much fun.” It was difficult getting the words out.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Andy.” Like it was her fault.

When we said goodbye, Em hugged me hard. Drawing apart, she held on tight to my wrists.

“Come to London. Stay with me. You can get a job up there easy. Get away from here.”

And I would, of course, only not with Em.

When I turned, Marcus was in the doorway, his mouth a tight line. How long had he been there?

“We need another beater to come on the shoot tomorrow. Out on the Collingwood Estate. Darren says he doesn’t need you in the office.”