Shape of Snakes

He slid in behind the steering wheel and we sat for several minutes in silence. The tension in the confined space was palpable, although I had no idea if it was due to anger over my perfidy or concern at my late return. The station was virtually empty at that time of night, but one or two people peered curiously through our windows as they passed, presumably wondering why the two dimly seen occupants were sitting so stiffly and refusing to look at each other.

'Aren't you going to say anything?' he asked at last.

'Like what?'

'Explain?' he suggested. 'I still can't believe you'd talk to Jock, and not to me. Why didn't you tell me Annie was beaten up? You know I'd have come clean if I'd realized how serious it all was.'

'When?'

'What do you mean, when?'

'When would you have come clean?' I asked evenly. 'I told you at the time what PC Quentin said about the bruising-but you just said we were talking bollocks. As I recall your comment was, 'Since when did a neurotic bitch and a disgruntled policeman know the first damn thing about pathology?' You could have told me the truth then and given me and Andrew Quentin a fighting chance against Drury ... but you didn't.'

He dropped his head into his hands. 'I thought you were wrong,' he muttered. 'I was pretty stressed out at the time, and you didn't make it easy for me.'

'Fine. Then you've nothing to feel guilty about. You were saving me from myself. No one's going to blame you for that.' I looked impatiently at my watch. 'Can we go now? I'm hungry.'

'You're not making this very easy for me,' he said. 'You must know how awful I feel.'

'Actually, I don't,' I said honestly. 'You've never felt awful before. That year, 1978, was one of those little unpleasantnesses-like where the cutlery drawer is and how to boil eggs-that you manage to erase so successfully from your memory. I've always envied you for it, and if you're troubled now it's probably just a reaction to knowing you've been rumbled. It'll pass. It usually does.'

He tried a different tack. 'The boys are twitched as hell,' he said. 'They keep asking me what I've done that's so bad you'd want to run away.'

'Oh, for Christ's sake!' I said bluntly. 'If you want to make me angry, then hiding behind your children is the surest way to do it. Luke and Tom know damn well I don't run away from things. They also know I wouldn't abandon them unless I was on a life-support machine somewhere. In any case, I told them I wouldn't be home until late so I imagine they're lying in front of the telly, as per normal, wondering why their father has suddenly gone 'round the bend.'

'We had a row,' he admitted. 'I told them they were unfeeling bastards.'

I didn't bother to comment because I wasn't in the mood to massage his bruised ego. 'Look,' I said, tapping my watch, 'I haven't had anything to eat all day and I'm starving, so can we either go home or get a takeaway? Have you and the boys eaten?'

'Tom made some spag bol for him and Luke, but I wasn't hungry.'

'Good, then we'll have a curry.'

'Why didn't you eat on the train?'

'Because it was trolley service,' I said crossly, 'and the only thing left to eat by the time it reached me was a packet of dry biscuits. So I had some wine instead ... and now I'm fighting mad and in no mood to play silly buggers with you or anyone else.'

'I don't blame you,' he began self-pityingly as he fired the engine. 'I just wish there was something I could do or say-'

I cut him off. 'Don't even think of apologizing,' I said. 'As far as I'm concerned you can grovel to me for the rest of your life. And it won't make a blind bit of difference. It'll make a difference to Jock, though. The sorrier you are the happier he'll be, and you'll be back in each other's pockets before you know it.'

He mulled this over quietly as we turned on to the main road. 'I've already apologized to Jock.'

'I assumed you would.'

'He calmed down pretty quickly as a matter of fact, once I'd explained what a mistake the whole damn thing had been.'

'Okay.'

'It didn't mean Jack shit, you know ... just something that happened while you were away. The trouble is, Libby took it more seriously than I did. She and Jock weren't getting on too well at the time and it sort of ran out of control.' He paused, inviting me to say something. When I didn't he went on, 'Jock understands that. He's been there himself, knows what it's like to be caught between a rock and a hard place.'

'Okay.'

'Does that mean you understand?'

'Of course.'

He flicked me an uneasy glance as he turned left at a pelican crossing. 'You don't sound as if you do.'

I sighed. 'I'm your wife, Sam, and I've known you since I was twenty. If I don't understand you by now then I doubt I ever will.'

'I didn't mean, do you understand me. I meant, do you understand how the thing with Libby happened? What a fucking disaster it was? How sorry I was afterward?'

I gave a small laugh. 'The thing? Do you mean your affair? The time you rogered your best friend's wife because your own wife was away and you hadn't had sex for twenty-four hours?'

'It wasn't like that,' he protested.