A Room Full of Bones: A Ruth Galloway Investigation

the letter that was sent to Dan by those Elginist people. I wanted Neil to leave, to go back home. He wasn’t worthy of you.’
    ‘But you can’t just …’ Randolph’s voice fades away. They have reached the yard and The Necromancer’s hooves clatter on the tarmac. Randolph pulls him to halt.
    ‘I’m off drugs,’ he says. ‘You can’t combine running a yard with taking drugs. Too many bloody early mornings. Human beings can only take so much.’
    Romilly smiles up at him. ‘Humans are horrible. They’re not nearly as nice as animals.’
    Randolph takes this in, realising that this philosophy has been the guiding force of his mother’s life. Is this why they are all so mixed up – him and Caroline and Tamsin? Because, deep down, their mother preferred animals to them?
    ‘Are you going to go on with the animal rights stuff?’ he asks. ‘If the group ever reforms?’
    ‘Oh, I’m going to start a new group. Strictly non-violent. Demonstrating at hunts etcetera. I’m going to buy a little cottage somewhere and really devote myself to it.’
    Great, thinks Randolph. He hasn’t told his mother that he’s decided to join the hunt. He has always loved hunting (he used to sneak off to go cubbing as a child) and it’s excellent exercise for the horses. He looks forward to seeing her at the barricades. He’s not sure he believes the non-violence either.
    ‘Do you think Dan knew?’ Romilly asks suddenly. ‘About the other men?’
    Randolph dismounts and loosens The Necromancer’s girth. Steam rises up from the horse’s hot body.
    ‘No,’ he lies. ‘I don’t think Dad knew a thing.’
    ‘I hope not,’ says Romilly, moving out of the way as a stable boy comes past leading two horses towards the walker. ‘I never wanted to hurt him. I was just … bored.’
    ‘Yeah,’ says Randolph, lifting off the saddle. ‘Boredom has a lot to answer for.’
    ‘But you won’t be bored now, will you? You’ve got the stable to run and Caroline’s got the museum. I’ve neverseen her so happy. Not since she came back from Australia.’
    Not that you ever did anything about Caroline’s unhappiness, thinks Randolph, because she’s not a beagle or a laboratory rat. The Necromancer rubs his head against his shoulder and suddenly Randolph, too, feels a great surge of love towards all animals. The Necromancer doesn’t care if he’s gay or straight, on drugs or clean. As long as Randolph feeds him and takes him out on long gallops, it’s all the same to him. Randolph rubs the horse’s ear affectionately and turns to his mother.
    ‘There’s going to be a big party at the museum,’ he says. ‘Caroline’s organising it. To celebrate the skulls going back. Will you come?’
    Romilly reaches up a gloved hand to touch his cheek. ‘No darling. I think I’ll give it a miss. One way or another I’ve rather had enough of the museum.’

CHAPTER 33
     
    The repatriation ceremony is held on the fifteenth of December. Ruth has, that morning, opened the fifteenth window on Kate’s advent calendar. She ate the chocolate herself to save Kate’s teeth. What a good mother. Christmas suddenly seems to be uncomfortably close. It is the last week of term and the department noticeboard is groaning with parties and carol concerts. Phil and Shona are having a party on Christmas Eve (‘our last fling before the baby’s here’) and Ruth is already thinking of ways to avoid it. She is wondering whether she has the nerve to invite Max for Christmas. They have had one weekend together since the Elginist conference, and even to Ruth’s over-critical eye it seemed to go rather well. She knows that Max has no family left alive and, as for her, she’d do anything to avoid Christmas with her parents and brother.
    Driving from the university to the Smith Museum, she allows herself to think about Christmas on the Saltmarsh with Max and Kate. She could buy a tree. She’s forty-one years old and she’s never bought her own Christmas tree.How pathetic is that? She has a vision of herself and Kate decorating the tree. They could make the decorations out of salt dough (something which, like potato prints, seems to Ruth the very pinnacle of mothering). They could go into town to see Father Christmas, though she loathes shopping malls – and Father Christmas too for that matter. She remembers the time, two years ago, that she saw Nelson Christmas shopping with his wife and children. It had been her first glimpse of Michelle and