Dreaming of the Bones

she touched his arm and gestured towards the door.
    ”Was that my grandfather?” said Kit, his face expressionless.
    Kincaid nodded. ”Hazel and Tim have asked you to stay here for tonight, if that’s okay with you.”
    ”Why can’t I stay with you?”
    ”Come sit down and have some tea, Kit,” said Gemma, giving Kincaid time to formulate an answer.
    As Kit came slowly to the table, Kincaid said, ”I’m sure you’d be fine on my sitting room sofa, but there’s no access to the garden for Tess. I live in a top-floor flat.” He paused a moment. ”If it would make you feel more comfortable about staying here, I could stay next door at Gemma’s— that is, if it’s all right with her.”
    Gemma made a face at him as she handed Kit his mug. ”I think that could be arranged.”
    ”What about tomorrow?” asked Kit, still wary.
    ”We’re working on that.” Kincaid studied him as he sipped his tea. ”Would you like to stay with the Millers for a bit, if we could arrange it? They want you to come, and you could go back to school, see your mates.”
    ”What about Tess?”
    ”Laura said they’d be glad to have Tess,” volunteered Gemma. Laura had, in fact, been sputteringly furious at the idea of Eugenia refusing to let him keep the dog.
    Kit looked down at his untasted tea and frowned. ”I’m not sure I want to go back to school.”
    ”It’ll be awkward for a day or so,” said Gemma. ”Because they won’t know what to say to you, but after that it’ll be okay.”
    Shaking his head, Kit said, ”It’s not that. It’s Miss Pope.”
    Gemma glanced at Kincaid, who raised his brows in surprise.
    ”Who’s Miss Pope?” he asked. ”One of your teachers?”
    ”English.” Kit grimaced. ”I hate English. I’m going to be a biologist like Nathan. And I hate Miss Pope.”
    Gemma sensed that there was more here than a subject preference. ”Did Miss Pope do something that made you particularly angry?” she asked gently.
    Kit nodded. ”She... she said bad things about my mum. About my mum and my dad. She said that if my mum had been a proper wife, Dad would never have left.”
    ”Oh, Christ,” Kincaid whispered. Then he said, carefully, ”Kit, did you tell your mum about this?”
    Kit’s eyes filled with tears, and he wiped angrily at them as he nodded again. ”The day before she... At first I thought maybe that was why she died—because she was upset. They said it was her heart... and then last night...” He stopped and sniffed.
    ”Go on,” said Kincaid. ”What happened last night?”
    ”Tess wasn’t the only reason I ran away. I heard them talking. Grandmama said Mummy... she said Mummy was murdered. But I don’t understand. Why would someone want to kill my mum?”
    Kincaid closed his eyes for a moment, and Gemma guessed he was marshaling all his patience not to curse Eugenia in front of Kit. ”We don’t know,” he said. ”The police are trying to find out. But in the meantime, you need to understand that whatever happened, it’s not your fault. It had nothing to do with you.”
    A muffled squeal came from the sitting room, followed by giggles and excited barking.
    ”Oh, dear,” said Gemma. ”We’ve left the little demons alone too long.” She pushed back her chair.
    ”I’ll go,” offered Kit, jumping up. ”I left them watching 101 Dalmatians. Maybe they’ve decided to make a fur coat out of Tess.” He left the room and Gemma sank back into her seat.
    ”I know two things now,” said Kincaid. ”One, we can be pretty sure where Vic went when she left the English Faculty that afternoon. And two”—he paused and met her eyes across the table—”I’m not letting him go back to Reading , no matter what it takes.”

18

    I said I splendidly loved you; it’s not true.
    Such long swift tides stir not a landlocked sea.
    On gods or fools the high risk falls—on you—
    The clean clear bitter-sweet that’s not for me.

    RUPERT BROOKE,
    from ” Sonnet ” (January 1910)
    ´

    The Park Lane Hotel , Piccadilly
    5 June 1974

    Dear Mummy,

    Sorry I haven’t written lately, but there’s been so much going on it’s hard to squeeze in a moment to think, much less keep up with correspondence.
    I came up yesterday for my launch party and decided to stay a few extra days. Sometimes it does one good to get away from provincial life and provincial company for a bit. Tonight I’m making up a party with several (rather glamorous) London friends for the theater and dinner at