Tomorrow's ghost

right for once. I think I shall almost certainly get married twice:

the first time will be a terrible mistake - it'll be a purely physical thing, an animal passion I won't be able to resist ... Or it may be plain lack of experience, like David Copperfield and Dora. I can never imagine David Copperfield in bed with Dora, it must have been an absolute disaster. The mind boggles - at least, my mind boggles. What d'you think, Frances?'

Frances's mind wasn't boggling, but it was hurting her more than she could tolerate.

Unlike Jane, she could imagine exactly what had happened in David Copperfield's bed, down to the last humiliating detail.

Jane didn't wait for an answer. 'So the first time will be a ghastly mistake - but the second time I shall get it right. And I'll be an absolutely super step-mother too. I shalln't try to be a mother, I'll be like an elder sister, only better ... And my step-children will be the most marvellous aunts to my children, if I decide to have any. It'll be an extended nuclear family - all for one, and one for all, like the Three Musketeers!'

It was fair enough for those who could identify themselves with the King's Musketeers, thought Frances - and the set books at school hadn't changed much, obviously. But Jane's sharp little sword was making her feel like one of the Cardinal's Guards.

'What did you mean, 'It wouldn't have lasted'?' She hung on grimly to her original question.

'Oh ... they didn't get on. Father and Maman,' said Jane off-handedly. 'That's all.'

'You don't remember,' said Sally. 'You were only a baby.'

'I was six - '

'And a baby.'

'And you were an old-age pensioner, I suppose. I was there just as much as you - in fact more, because you and Di were at school. I can even remember the day Maman went - she was furious with Father, I can still remember that. Because he wanted to go early, while it was still dark, and she said he didn't have to. And he said he had to.'

'Had to do what?' Frances felt the old excitement, the old drug, heighten her perception: suddenly she was a fly on the wall in the past on that other November day nine years ago, because of this child's total recall; which, in spite of the boastful words, was the total recall of a deep wound still raw inside her, which wouldn't heal until somebody who understood its nature set about treating it; and Nannie could never do that, and her Father couldn't either, because he didn't know about it, because there was no way the child could tell him about it, not in a million years.

Well, that wasn't her job. Her job was to re-create that moment and to observe it - the moment which William Ewart Hedges had suspected - 'no matter what he thought of her'

he'd let slip - and which she had also suspected even before he'd let it slip.

Not Four-out-of-Ten, Frances - Frances Warren, Frances Fitzgibbon - and not Five-out-of-Ten, or Six, or Seven, or Eight, or Nine. This was the real thing, the Ten-out-ofTen monster inside her, which had no rational explanation, which was frightening when she thought about it.

'Had to do what?'

Jane's eyes clouded -

God! There was another Ten-out-of-Ten, except it should have been obvious to her long before, what they were about with their well-rehearsed dialogue, why they were at such pains to tell her such secrets!

No. She mustn't even think of that, it was ridiculous!

'Oh ... he had to get somewhere by 11 o'clock - he had an appointment, or something.

And he wasn't going to break it for anything, no matter what she said, he said - Maman shouted at him on the stairs, I heard her, I was sick in bed. He didn't shout, of course -

he never shouts. But he was quite loud for him.' She nodded. 'He said he had to go, and he jolly well went. It was duty, I expect.'

* * *

Having approximately three hours on my hands, and there being no other duties scheduled, I

adjusted my route to take in my home town of Blackburn, arriving there at 1020 hours and

departing at 1125 hours. While in Blackburn I spoke to no one -

* * *

No appointment ... which Major Butler wasn't going to break for anything. Or anyone - angry wife or sick child.

'Well, that was jolly unusual for them, they didn't row like that very often. It was mostly they were simply cold and uptight - or Maman was, anyway,' said Sally, conceding a trench she could not defend, but standing fast on her main position. 'I think the whole trouble was that they didn't shout at each other enough - Maman went one way, and Father went another, that was the trouble. She didn't like cricket, for example.'

'Cricket?' Frances tightened her jaw quickly, before it could fall off.

'Cricket is a very interesting game, you know,' said Sally. 'It isn't as exciting as show-jumping, but in some ways it is quite scientific. You ought to watch it, Frances. Father will explain it to you - he's terrific at explaining.'

'Cricket is a dull game,' said Jane.

'Don't be stupid. Jay.' Sally's voice slashed at her sister. 'Frances would enjoy cricket if Father explained it to her.'