Shape of Snakes

'But who, for goodness' sake?'

'That's what I'm trying to find out,' I said, putting the press clippings back into their envelopes. 'Someone fairly close to home is my guess ... someone who knew what was in there.'

She canted her head to one side to study me closely with her bright, perceptive eyes. 'What's your husband's view?'

'He doesn't have one,' I said slowly. 'The subject hasn't been mentioned in our house for twenty years.'

She put a gentle hand on my shoulder. 'I'm sorry.'

'No need to be,' I told her gruffly. 'This is my project, not his.'

Did she think 'project' was an inappropriate word? 'It's not your fault Annie died,' she said with sincerity. 'You've nothing to feel guilty about.'

'I don't.'

Perhaps she didn't believe me. Perhaps she saw a contradiction between my apparent composure and the evidence of obsession in my lap. 'No one escapes justice,' she said, dropping her hand to pick up one of mine and rubbing it gently between hers. 'It may not be a justice we can see or understand, but the punishment is always appropriate.'

'I expect you're right,' I agreed, 'but I'm not interested in abstract punishment. I want the kind I can see ... the eye for an eye ... the pound of flesh.'

'Then you'll be disappointed,' she told me. 'There's no joy-in causing pain ... however worthy the motive.'

I had no answer to that except to return the pressure of her fingers. It was acknowledgment of a sort and to that extent it mollified her, but worry remained etched around her eyes until I left.

Family correspondence-dated 1999

CURRAN HOUSE

Whitehay Road

Torquay

Devon

Wednesday, July 28 1999

Dearest M,

If I can give you any advice at all-and of course there's no reason why you should take it-it's that you talk things through with Sam before your mother and I come for our visit on Saturday. She's still very unhappy about your move to Dorchester and will, I fear, put pressure on the boys to supply answers if she can't get them from you. Sam has told her the farmhouse was the only property you could find at short notice-which is clearly what he believes-and she's now convinced 'something's going on' as she says her tame real estate agent faxed you a list of suitable lets in Devon at the beginning of June.

Sorry to he a nuisance but the old adage-'of two evils choose the lesser'-is a good one, I find. You know what your mother's like when she gets the bit between her teeth, and I fear Sam would be very hurt to learn the truth from his children after a quizzing from their grandmother! It won't be easy 'coming clean'-secrecy isfrighteningly addictive, as I've discovered myself since I realized how much closer you and I have become through our shared crusade, my dear, and how jealously I want to guard that closeness-but I think the time has come for honesty. I know you would never hurt Sam unnecessarily.

Love,

Dad

X X X

*7*

The house was full of young people when I arrived back that evening to find an impromptu barbecue taking place on our terrace. 'Another end-of-term celebration,' explained my younger son en route from the kitchen with a tray of spare ribs. He dropped me a mischievous wink. 'Luke and I were voted the people most likely to throw a good party.' He had a pretty girl draped off his elbow whose hair was almost as long and as blond as his own. 'Georgie,' he offered by way of introduction. 'Mum.'

The girl was too besotted to look at me for long. 'It's nice of you to invite me,' she said.

I nodded, wondering how Luke and Tom had managed to become the center of attention so quickly. At their age I had hidden behind a fringe, longing to be noticed and invariably overlooked, while Sam had followed in the wake of the Jock Williamses of this world, acquiring girlfriends courtesy of their friends' superior pulling power. The boys would say it was their height, surfers' good looks and neat bums, but I thought it had more to do with taking jobs as checkout cashiers in the local Tesco's, which seemed to be the modern equivalent of the village pump. In the end all paths meet across a supermarket trolley.

With a promise to put in an appearance as soon as I'd changed, I retreated to the bedroom where I found Sam laid out on the bed and glaring at the ceiling. 'It's bedlam down there,' he said crossly. 'Why didn't you tell me the boys were planning to invite half of Dorchester to eat us out of house and home?'

'I forgot,' I lied.

'Well, for your information,' he growled, 'I was sunbathing in the nude when they all came piling 'round the corner of the house. It was bloody embarrassing.'

Smiling, I flopped down beside him. 'Is that why you're hiding up here?'

'No,' he said, jutting his chin toward some boxes in the corner of the room. 'I'm guarding my wine. I found a girl in the kitchen trying to open a bottle of Cloudy Bay because she thought it looked like cheap plonk, so I gave her a lecture on the quality of New Zealand viniculture and she burst into tears.'