Dead Man's Time

despite its dilapidated state it had such a warm, friendly feeling.
    She hoped so much that Roy would feel the same way, and she could not wait to take him to see it. It needed everything doing, but that was why it was almost in their price bracket. It was set a
safe distance away from the main road, and backed onto farmland, with glorious views across the valley to the hills of the South Downs. It was the perfect place to raise Noah, and it would be
paradise for Humphrey.
    She put the brochure down on the bedside table, worrying about that couple who were going back for a second viewing. She wished Roy could hurry home. And not just so he could see the house. This
was the first time since they had brought Noah home that they had been apart, and she missed him badly.
    Feeling totally exhausted, she closed her eyes, but she was unable to sleep. The television was on, the sound turned low, just for company. An old episode of
Frasier
, which always made
her smile, was playing. She picked up the third volume of the
Fifty Shades
trilogy and turned to her bookmarked place, but after only a few lines, she realized she was too tired to read
and put it down, then drank some water.
    Then she looked at the baby monitor to make sure it was on. She turned the volume up high for some moments so she could hear Noah’s breathing. Reassured, she turned it down a little.
    She ought to be studying for her Open University degree. Several philosophy textbooks lay piled up on her bedside table, but she had no appetite for any of them at the moment.
    The wind was still howling outside and she could feel a draught on her face, through the window pane. Out in the distance she heard a siren wailing mournfully. She didn’t really know why,
but she felt on edge tonight. Nervous of the sounds of the wind. Nervous for her child. Nervous for their future. Something she had read a few days ago, that Sophocles wrote, suddenly rang true.
To the man who is afraid, everything rustles.
    And yes, tonight, everything was rustling.
    She shivered. Cold enough to swap over to the winter duvet. But it was still only early September. Humphrey, who normally slept in his basket down in the kitchen, was asleep on the floor at the
end of the bed, and she hadn’t the heart to push him out of the room. He suddenly began snoring, loud, deep snores, and for a moment she smiled. He sounded like Roy when he’d had too
much to drink.
    She closed her eyes. God, she had such huge responsibilities. They told you that your life would change when you had a baby, but they didn’t tell you that it was quite such damned hard
work, nor that you would be permanently scared of something happening to your child. Her health visitor had reassured her, on her six-week check, that this was quite normal, and so had all her
friends who’d had babies whom she had spoken to. But equally, no one had ever been able to tell her the depth of love she would feel every time she looked at Noah, and every time she held him
in her arms.
    But was he ever making her nipples sore!
    Something scudded in the wind across the courtyard below. It sounded like a plastic bag blown loose. She thought about the case Roy was working on. The poor old woman who had been tortured in
her home by burglars. What kind of world had Noah been born into? The world was a violent place; it always had been and it seemed it always would be. At least, she thought, both she and Noah were
lucky in one respect. Roy always made her feel safe, and he’d always make sure Noah was safe, too.
    She turned up the volume on the television slightly. Frasier was trying to get rid of his brother for the night because he had a hot date with his old school prom queen, who was now a
middle-aged vamp.
    She smiled, feeling a little better.

97
    Roy Grace ate the Maraschino cherry, drained the last of his second Manhattan, then stubbed out his second cigarette. The men at the bar, smoking their cigars, continued to be
absorbed in the ball game on the large television screen. Guy Batchelor and Jack Alexander were having an animated conversation about Brighton and Hove Albion’s prospects for the new football
season, while Grace sat, silently immersed in his thoughts, trying to study the estate agent’s particulars on their website on his iPhone.
    He was missing Cleo and Noah, but it was now half past midnight in England – much too late to call again. And he was concerned about tomorrow. ACC Rigg had made a big leap of