204

Emma wondered if Graham could be persuaded to ditch in the Atlantic. It was a big ocean, there was always room for one more. She hoped he’d heard the radio broadcast. Hoped he’d fly her into oblivion.

203

Cody fantasized about listening to her own inquest tapes. She imagined the coroner calling Roger Frankburg and Roger Frankburg taking the stand and in a faltering and broken voice tell the court how much he loved his little Lily, how the world was indeed a cruel one to take away one so bright, so loving and so perfect. She imagined the tape picking up sobbing in the courtroom, noses being blown, perhaps even someone breaking down and being led out of the room.

Who would do that though? In the three years as Cody Jameson she’d made some new friends but they knew her as Cody, they wouldn’t turn up to an inquest of someone called Lily. They probably didn’t know any Lilys.

Her old friends might not remember her well enough to cry sufficiently.

Samuel Thorn might put on a good show though. Perhaps he could be the one being led out, choked with sobs.

202

Cody’s phone rang. It was PC Queely saying that she had been right. Cody Jameson had been the last thing on Ronald Henderson’s mind before he jumped in front of the train. He’d left a message on his answering machine. Cody asked PC Queely to play her the tape. He said it was a bit upsetting. She said she didn’t mind.

“. . . My wish is to be cremated [muffled approaching roar] and I want the ashes pissed on by a dog and flushed down the toilet of some big polluting jumbo by a stewardess who fucks a copilot while she does it [roar intensifies] and I want the ashes to mix with the puke and shit and then freeze into an ugly lump [Ronald has to shout] and then drop onto a fucking cruise ship sailing the Atlantic, where it’ll smash through the casino, killing someone who thinks that their luck has changed, someone who thinks they’ve hit the fucking jackpot, someone who thinks their life is fine and dandy, someone who calls herself Cody Jameson! Tales of a fucking Stewardess. Don’t think I don’t know who you are! [loud bang, screech, crackle] beep beep.”

201

Cody didn’t want to be remembered that way. She wondered what she’d done to deserve that and couldn’t remember, so she wondered what I’d done to deserve that. She decided it must be something pretty awful.

“That’s not so good,” she said.

“No,” said PC Queely.

“You must think I’m a pretty terrible person.”

“I don’t have an opinion one way or the other.”

She decided to stop being Cody Jameson. It wasn’t really working out. She’d go back to being Lily Frankburg. Lily Frankburg would get a better dedication. Despite everything, she didn’t think anyone would want a frozen lump of piss and shit to land on Lily Frankburg.