Human Remains

they squealed across the glass. I tried to think of a way to change the subject and cheer things up a little bit. ‘Did you get anything nice in town?’
    ‘Not really,’ he said.
    ‘You’re not sulking, are you?’
    ‘Of course not.’
    ‘You are.’
    He didn’t reply, which meant I was right. I couldn’t stand sulkers. ‘Look,’ I said, ‘how about if I buy us all a takeaway for tonight? I’d like to say thanks to you and your parents for putting up with me for so long.’
    ‘You’d better clear it with Irene,’ he said. ‘You can’t go interrupting her cooking schedule. She plans it like a military operation.’
    ‘I’d like to say thank you anyway,’ I said. ‘I’ll get all my stuff together later. Maybe I could stay one more night, what do you think?’
    ‘What do you mean?’ he said. ‘You’re leaving?’
    He stopped at the lights and turned his body towards me. I looked at him. If I’d suggested sawing off my own leg he couldn’t have looked more horrified.
    ‘You don’t need to look after me any more, Sam. He’s locked up. I’ll be safe at home.’
    ‘It’s not just him,’ he said. ‘I don’t like to think of you on your own. You’ve been through a very difficult time. You need friends around you.’
    ‘You’ve been very kind. But really, I’m going to have to go home sooner or later. It’s better that I do it now, I think.’
    He stared at me for so long that the car behind us beeped its horn. The lights had changed. He shook his head and drove off. ‘What about the cat? She’s just settled in.’
    ‘What – you want custody of my cat now?’
    ‘Don’t be like that.’
    ‘I was joking.’
    ‘Well, I’m not laughing. I don’t want you to be in a house on your own. It’s not good when you were just in hospital less than two weeks ago. What if something happens?’
    We carried on like this all the way to Keats Road. In the end he was almost placated by my promising to stay in almost constant phone contact with him, to keep the door locked and not open it to anyone I didn’t know. If I wanted to go into town he was going to volunteer to drive me around, presumably for the rest of my life. It was ridiculous. The more he went on about it, the more I wanted to escape the nagging.
    I needed to go home.

Colin
     
     
    The interviews have continued intermittently throughout the day. In between interviews I was taken back to the cell that I am already starting to think of as mine. At lunch I was given a tray containing something that might have been shepherd’s pie, peas that were khaki in colour and had probably come out of a tin, and a plastic cup of water. I ate some of the shepherd’s pie and regretted it straight away. The taste will be coming back to me for several hours to come.
    They have asked me again if I want a solicitor, I have a right to one, which of course I know, and they will find me a duty solicitor if I do not have one of my own. I told them – again – that I wasn’t bothered.
    I’m not bothered about any of it, much, but I do object to the prospect of having to sleep on a plastic-covered mattress in a concrete cell, and I asked them politely how long they were likely to be detaining me. The custody sergeant told me it was likely to be at least another eighteen hours. Eighteen hours! Still, there’s plenty to entertain me. The cells adjacent to mine appear to be empty, but beyond that I can hear shouted expletives as the drunks start to roll in. They expect me to be worried, I can tell. But I have nothing to lose, nothing at all – whereas they are in a very tricky position. Especially with regard to the media coverage the case has gained so far.
    The only slight concern I have is their question about whether I reported Rachelle’s death to anyone. Is it an offence to fail to report a death? I have a vague memory of reading a news article about a woman who’d been found to have kept the bodies of her stillborn babies in the attic of her house – and she’d been arrested, of course. She hadn’t killed them, though. But surely reporting the death is the responsibility of the family, the next of kin – not some random stranger who happens to be there at the time.
     
     
    By the time it got dark we were on to the fourth interview. Topping and Lewis again, the comedy double-act. This time they brought a cardboard box with them that Lewis stowed away under his side of the table. Maybe it contained sandwiches. I could only