Samuel lost interest in his life. He had no inkling that she was about to do something of that magnitude and he felt terribly ashamed that he didn’t see whatever it was he should have seen.

He met with her father and had found a man as devastated and in need of reassurance as himself. They spent an ineffective hour together and got nowhere.

After a while he decided there was nothing else to do except wait until things felt better. He’d met her father twice since that time. On both occasions he’d fancied he’d seen some slight improvement.

747

Samuel had once played the voice of Jonah in a series of Bible story cartoons for children. Schools bought the video to jazz up religion classes, and it still got broadcast from time to time. Samuel wished the run would end because he somehow felt that as long as he was out there as Jonah, his presence would bring misfortune upon his companions.

746

The train wasn’t getting any faster. Phones started going off.

Samuel read Graft. It bored him to tears. There was grittiness in bus stations, grittiness in housing estates, grittiness in betting shops and, as his agent had mentioned, some gritty deaths.

Written by Cody Jameson . . .

745

In a café with a dress code. Table service, linen napkins, and free coffee refills. Not very gritty. Not gritty at all, in fact. Apart from a hobo on a bench outside, it was about as gritless as you could get. Bloody hypocrite.

744

The train came to a complete standstill.

“Wonder what this is?” said a middle-aged woman. She didn’t have any interest in the incident but had recognized Samuel from a made-for-TV costume drama where he played a massive blacksmith with a glistening torso.

Samuel cupped his hands around his face and peered into the darkness. He couldn’t see anything. He let his breath steam up the window.

“Perhaps it’s more leaves on the line. Ha,” said the woman.

Samuel smiled politely and went back to the script.

The woman decided she wasn’t very good at flirting and kept quiet.

743

Graft love scene. Quite tender. Some nudity.

Samuel still had a big slab of a chest but there was give in the stomach when he prodded it. Perhaps he should visit a gym.

The brakes were released with a hiss. The train edged forward and the carriage cheered.

It pulled into Birmingham International at walking pace. It was the station for the National Exhibition Centre and the airport only. A nowhere place. Most places had a station stop, this place was solely a station stop.

But there was activity here.

Sam couldn’t get a clear view as there was a waiting area in between the two platforms, but through its windows he could see that a police cordon and some temporary screens had been erected on the adjacent platform. He counted ten police officers. Some talking to members of the public and taking notes, some directing the passengers alighting from Sam’s train up the stairs and away from the scene.