Tom sucked at his lip, weighing up the value of discretion. ‘He has been forced to make many difficult decisions,’ he said, holding Cordelia’s gaze. ‘He has done a great deal for Queen and country. He is, above all, a good man. It was not his choice for Mr Parker to be placed here. But there are those in power who have different priorities. We all serve different masters. I am sure the gentleman you spoke to at the farm will have done all he could to prevent situations such as the one we find ourselves in. And yet, it can sometimes be impossible to contain a spirit that wants to get out. You can nail three coffin lids in place and malevolence will still seep through the cracks.’

Cordelia chewed on this for a while. I could see her half agreeing with him.

‘That stone. The one he placed me on. It was from the river …’

Tom spread his hands. ‘Two Irish workmen and a hydraulic lift. It wasn’t difficult.’

‘And the workmen?’

Tom shook his head and my mind was suddenly full of skins and screams.

‘And we go on, do we?’ asked John, sullenly. ‘Just forget what happened.’

Tom turned on him and dropped the soft voice he had been using for Cordelia. ‘You don’t know what happened,’ he snapped. ‘You have guesses and the word of your wife. I have evidence of a terrible farming accident. And that is all.’

‘But Fairfax,’ I began.

‘Crashed his car during a storm.’

‘And Marcel? A Frenchman, a decorated Maquisard – nobody will look for him?’

‘I’m quite sure somebody will,’ said Tom, ‘but I’m quite sure you will all be alert for outsiders snooping around.’

Cordelia rubbed her fingertips on the wound upon her skull. ‘And if we disagree with your version of events?’ she asked.

‘Why would you do that?’ he replied. ‘There are so many opportunities for advancement when one does one’s duty.’

‘Advancement?’ asked Cordelia.

He smiled at that, I swear it. It was just a flash of a thing, like a bird taking a fish from still water, but in that moment he knew he had her. She did too. Standing in the kitchen of a house she never wanted, in the village where she was born to a mother who never gave a damn. I could see her working it out. Could see her trying to decide if she was selling any part of herself if she made this bargain.

And I don’t blame her for the decision she made.

EPILOGUE

October 2, 2010