‘Yes, she’s my dog.’ Matilda put out a hand to touch the mangled body. ‘She’s cold.’

‘Er, yes.’

‘This is an idiot conversation. Where did you say you found her?’

‘On the main road by the turning to the station.’

‘The turning to the station. I see.’ Matilda was quite still. The policemen stood embarrassed.

‘You all right, Mrs Poliport?’

‘Would you be?’ Matilda stared at him. ‘Give her to me.’ The younger policeman made a protesting noise.

‘Give her to me.’ Matilda took hold of the body in the sack, holding it close.

‘Following somebody.’

‘Or running away. She may have been frightened. Dogs get scared on roads, Mrs Poliport.’

‘Yes.’

‘You all right, Mrs Poliport? Would you like us to make you some tea?’

‘No thank you. I must buy some Brie and a bottle of Beaujolais.’

‘What, Mrs Poliport?’

‘Cheese and wine –’ Matilda stood staring at them, her face white, ‘not tea.’

‘Oh. You sure you’re all right? We could –’

‘You couldn’t do anything. Just bugger off.’ She turned into the house, shutting the door in their faces. The two men exchanged glances, one of them took off his hat, resettled it on his head. The other straightened his tunic. They turned to go. Matilda opened the door and shouted, ‘He’ll make very tough eating,’ and slammed it again. They heard her scream ‘Cannibals!’

‘Phew!’

‘Holy Cow!’ They drove off.

‘Hot flush or no hot flush, she’s put me off my dinner. Bugger off, is it? The sergeant can go himself another time.’

‘Funny her being in bed this time of the morning. She’s usually up at dawn, everybody knows that.’

‘Perhaps she had some fella for the night.’

‘Don’t be daft – at her age?’

‘Daresay it was just shock. She hasn’t had that dog long, only bought it a licence the other day, she told me. I told her it wasn’t yet six months and not to worry.’

‘Wasted her lolly then.’

27

WHEN HER ARMS began to ache, Matilda put the sack down on the kitchen table. The clock said midday. She went across the room and wound it. She felt dizzy and put out her hand to steady herself against the Rayburn. It was cold. She looked in the firebox. The draught she made opening the stove stirred the embers. As she straightened up she saw the mess on her dressing-gown. She took it off and wrapped it round Folly’s body. The rather tarty chiffon and lace garment which had once belonged to Anabel made a neat wrapping. Realizing she was naked she went upstairs and ran the bath very deep and hot. She washed thoroughly and shampooed her hair, ducking under the water to rinse it.