Evan looks up at him, sensing Joe’s stillness.

‘I’ll position him,’ Joe says. He gets the Labrador lying still. ‘Just X-ray him with me here,’ Joe adds.

‘Er, no,’ Evan says. ‘I will not irradiate you.’

Joe stares at the wall. What’s the point of safety procedures when he’s doomed? But he obeys Evan, says, ‘Stay,’ to the dog, then absents himself while the X-ray clicks. He rewards the dog with a bit of sausage.

Evan says nothing, turning away from him. He sighs and turns off the X-ray machine, still looking at Joe. Another puff of air escapes his lips, but no words.

He takes the dog out front, then comes back and starts to wipe up.

‘Does anyone else know? Maria?’

‘No.’

‘Did you lie to the police?’ he says, his back to Joe.

‘Yes.’

‘Wow.’ He turns to him, expression unreadable. ‘What was it like?’

Joe shrugs, not so much trying to convey the feeling but trying to remove an uneasy weight from across his shoulders, as though an uncomfortable arm has been placed across them. ‘It was horrible.’

‘And you … you buried a body,’ he says flatly.

‘We tried to revive him,’ Joe says. ‘He was dead, but we still did the CPR.’ His voice catches as he says it. ‘It was –’

‘What?’ Evan says, but his tone is more gentle.

‘He just … I don’t know.’

‘Was it awful?’

‘Yes.’

‘I always hate how people assume vets will be good at CPR,’ Evan says conversationally. ‘I can’t imagine.’

Joe looks at him. Maybe it’ll be okay. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘We had no adrenaline or anything, obviously. It was hopeless.’

‘I bet.’

‘Plus, he seemed not to respond as well as I would have expected.’

‘Really?’

‘The whole thing is a blur,’ Joe says. Despite himself, despite the circumstances, it’s nice to discuss this with somebody else, somebody not in his family, not interested in the dynamics. ‘We were probably too late. Frannie left it too long.’

Evan’s mouth falls open in shock. Oh, shit, Joe thinks, looking at him. He’s said too much, as he often does, the relief of Evan’s understanding making him deflate and leak information. And Evan’s forensic, scientist mind won’t be able to let this go. ‘Why?’

Joe says nothing, which seems to be the best and only option these days.

‘How long had she left it? Like – hours?’

‘No! Half an hour.’

‘Half an hour,’ he says incredulously. ‘You can do a lot in half an hour.’

‘I know,’ Joe says. And he can’t explain it. The panic, the fear, the shock of it. How the events are not cemented in his mind, even now. The smell of the blood. Frannie lit up in the headlights. ‘It’s a blur,’ Joe explains again. ‘Anyway,’ he adds, ‘will you review the X-ray, then call the family?’

‘Sure,’ Evan says easily. ‘Sure, Joe. You’re the boss.’

47.

Cathy

‘Can I stay?’ Cathy says.

‘Of course you can stay,’ Cathy’s father says to her as they cross the wet lawn. ‘Bed’s made up.’