Fry hesitated. When she spoke, her voice had lost its hard edge. Her eyes had drifted away, back to the images floating somewhere in a darkness that only she could see. ‘I haven’t seen her since she was sixteen. She disappeared from our foster home and never came back.’
Her voice died, and Cooper thought she had told him all she was ever going to say. But then came a whisper, full of anger and unresolved pain.
‘Of course, she was already using heroin by then.’
A skein of geese passed slowly overhead in a straggly V shape. They honked hoarsely to each other, communicating their presence, binding themselves together as a living unit that moved as a single creature. A combine harvester was working late lower down the valley. Its headlights were on, and the clatter of its blades was clear and sharp on the air as it flattened a field of barley. A cloud of dust marked the combine’s position, golden specks glittering in the fading light.
Fry tried to persuade her memories to fly away with the geese, to fall into shreds beneath the combine’s blade, to disappear in a cloud of dust. But in the dark valley of her mind, the nightmares roosted permanently; the harvest never came.
‘Diane ‘
‘What now?’
‘I guess you must have taken me home last night.’
‘Who else?’
‘Well … thanks.’
‘Think nothing of it. But don’t expect the same favour too often. It wasn’t exactly the most fun I’ve ever had in one night.’
‘Right.’
342
He surked the last of Vii^ <wcct and polished the lenses of the i,
binoculars on his sleeve. “I
‘There’s just one other thing, Diane. Most of last night is a (it
complete blur. But there is something I can sort of remember. ir
Something 1 wanted to ask you about. I can’t get it out of ”
j . ‘ 1T
my mind. L
Fry went completely rigid, her arm and leg muscles locked ’”
tight as if she had multiple cramp. Her stomach tied itself into a painful knot, and she turned her face away, praying that he couldn’t see her blush. How could she have hoped that he wouldn’t remember that excruciatingly embarrassing moment?
O J O
She had no idea what she was going to say to him. Her mind
O O J
was a total blank. ‘Diane — ?’
She barely managed a grunt of acknowledgement, but it was
i ‘ i :liL
enough to encourage him to continue. “a
‘I remember some music you were playing in the car on the ‘&
way back to your flat. I guess it sort of stuck in my mind while pj
I was drunk, and I can’t get rid of it again. I just wondered what ||
it was, that’s all.’ ];”
Fry laughed out loud with relief. ‘That’s ridiculous!’
‘Some woman singer. I’m more into the Waterboys and the Levellers. But that tape sounded all right.’
‘It was Tanita Tikaram. It’s called “Ancient Heart.”’
‘Thanks.’
Till lend you the cassette, if you like. You can make a copy of it.’
‘That’s great —’
A bleeping sound came from Fry’s jacket pocket. ‘Oh shit.’
‘What have you brought that thing for?’
Fry pulled out her pager and switched off the sound as she read the phone number. ‘It’s somebody I’ve been trying to get hold of all day,’ she said. ‘He’s just tried to ring me back at last.’
^ 7 J O
‘Important?’
‘The bird-watcher — Gary Edwards.’ ‘Ah. You remembered.’
‘Do you still think it’s important? Should I go back to the car and phone him, then?’
