Dreaming of the Bones

companionship would eventually loosen Kit’s tongue. Now she found herself glad of the excuse to be out, for it was her favorite sort of day—soft, still, and damp, the world a comforting and uniform gray. She had no objection to sunshine; in fact, she liked it as well as the next person after a long wet spell, but clear days didn’t exhilarate her in the same way. Gloomy, her mother had disapprovingly called her as a child, but Vic didn’t see how she could help something as innate as a love of rainy weather.
    The moisture in the air intensified odors, and as she breathed in, the rich, earthy spring scent came to her so strongly that she thought she must actually be smelling things growing. Glancing at Kit, she saw that his scowl had softened, and he was looking about with almost his usual interest. Judging her moment, she said casually, ”Do you want to tell me what happened at school today?”
    He glanced at her and shrugged, but after a moment he said grudgingly, ”I heard Miss Pope talking to the new PE teacher.”
    ”Miss Pope? Your English teacher?”
    Kit gave her the disdainful glance she deserved for such an asinine comment. She knew Miss Pope perfectly well. Thirtyish and single, Elizabeth Pope had been obviously smitten with Ian, and had requested regular and unnecessary parent-teacher conferences. Whether or not Ian had taken his advantage, Vic had not known, nor had she particularly cared, except for Kit’s sake.
    ”And what did Miss Pope say?”
    ”They were in the lunch queue, and I went back for a fork,” he began circuitously. ”They didn’t see me. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
    ”No, I’m sure you didn’t,” Vic said encouragingly, but he hunched his shoulders, turtlelike, and looked down at his trainers. She thought fleetingly and irrelevantly that he had outgrown his shoes again, and wondered when he would begin to catch up to his feet. ”Were they talking about me?” she asked, when he didn’t speak.
    Nodding, Kit kicked hard at a stone in the path, then spit out the words with the same violence. ”Miss Pope said you worked all the time, and that Dad wouldn’t have left if you’d paid more attention to him. She said you weren’t a proper wife.”
    Bitch, thought Vic, holding her breath and counting to ten. She’d have a few choice words to say to the nosy Miss Pope, but she would not take her anger out on Kit. And where had Elizabeth Pope got her nasty ideas, anyway? Pillow talk?
    ”Darling,” she said when she thought she could control her voice, ”it was very wrong of Miss Pope to be talking about things that are none of her business. You do know that, don’t you?”
    Kit made a slight movement with his shoulders, but kept his head down.
    Vic sighed. How could she explain to him what she didn’t understand herself? ”In the first place, no one can ever really know what goes on between two people except the people themselves. And things are never as simple in a relationship as Miss Pope made it sound.” She couldn’t blame Ian—tempting as it was, she knew that trying to enlist Kit on her side could damage him even further. ”Sometimes people just grow in different directions, develop different needs and interests, and one day they wake up and discover there’s no reason to be together anymore.”
    ”Except me,” said Kit, taking her generalization personally. ”Wasn’t I a good enough reason?”
    There it was, thought Vic, the crux of the matter, and she had no excuses to offer for Ian. And the truth, even if it were possible to tell Kit, would still not suffice. Haltingly, she said, ”Sometimes grown-ups decide they’re not ready to be grown-ups, and they do things without thinking about other people’s feelings. It may not be right, but it happens, and we just have to make the best of it.” She couldn’t bring herself to reassure Kit that Ian loved him, for she was not at all sure that he did, and she knew Kit would sense any falsity on her part.
    They had walked almost to the outskirts of Cambridge . She could see the goalposts of Pembroke’s Sports Grounds in the distance, a thin, black vertical frame against the poplars. The daylight was fading by imperceptible degrees, for the heavy cloud cover hid any hint of sunset, and a chill little wind had sprung up in the dusk. Putting her arm lightly round Kit’s shoulders, she said, ”Come on, love. Let’s turn back. It’s getting cold.”
    They turned their backs to the wind and started