“Does anyone have a better idea?” Tim said, and they all shook their heads in turn—even Pru. “Right, she has a suitcase, so we can assume that she was coming from the station. That means she doesn’t live here. So that means no one’s going to be looking for her, at least not for a while. We have time to breathe and figure this whole thing out. We can do this, okay. Now, Edmund, go and get the suitcase—make sure you get everything that fell out and put it back in. It’s really important we get all of it. Rachel and Pru, go and look in the car. First, for stuff you can line the trunk with. Blankets, plastic bags, papers, whatever. And secondly, look for bottles of water or any liquid—anything we can use to wash away the blood on the road. We don’t need to get every drop but we have to make it so it’s not so obvious. If we can just make it so no one really notices, the cars in the coming days will do the rest, and hell, it might even rain. Robert—” he turned to the poet “—you and I have to move the body to the boot of the car.”

Robert looked mortified and angry. He opened his mouth, but Tim reached out and covered his mouth with a palm. “We’re in this together, Rob. All of us. We always have been, and we always will be. We need everyone, here. All of us. Where we’re at our best. There’s no weak links here. We’re all as great as each other. And you know what that means? It means when it’s your turn, you get the shit jobs. Are you still with us?”

Robert seemed to think about it for a moment and then nodded.