Human Remains

computer, and…’
    ‘He was
in
them, Mum. Dad was in some of the pictures.’
    ‘But they can do things with pictures now, can’t they? They can do airbrushing, or whatever it’s called. They can manipulate – ’
    ‘It was him, Mum. If you’d seen it…’
    I still didn’t believe it.
     
     
    They didn’t go back to the court after that. I was there on my own the next day, and for the remaining two days of the trial. I imagined the press were reporting on every aspect of the case, given Leonard’s position, but I deliberately avoided the newspapers; I didn’t turn on the television when I came home.
    When he was convicted, I stood up in the court and shouted ‘NO!’ as loudly as I could. I was asked to leave. The next day he was sentenced.
    The trial was very costly for me. It destroyed my marriage, because, even though I’d stood by him at every stage, once he was convicted Leonard refused to see me. He didn’t send me a visiting order and even when I applied directly to the prison I was told that the prisoner was under no obligation to see anyone he did not wish to.
    Stephen didn’t come round any more. I spoke to Ina on the phone once or twice, but they never came round for Sunday dinner after that. I phoned up and asked if I could see the girls, if I could take them out somewhere. Ina made excuses. When I pressed her, she said that Stephen did not want the girls to see me until they were much older. I didn’t understand this at all. It was Leonard who was accused of those terrible things, not I. But Stephen said I must have known. That I had covered up for him.
    I knew no such thing. I still didn’t believe it could be true. They had all denied him, all abandoned him.
    Adrian took Diane and Joshy back to Australia and, although he phoned me once in a while, when I rang them there was never a reply. His calls grew less frequent as the months and years passed.
    Things had also changed between Janet and me. I called her every so often for a chat, and it was an unspoken rule between us that we would not discuss Leonard. We talked about the children, about politics. But even those calls grew less frequent. She was cold towards me, as though my cheeriness disgusted her.
    I went out, although less frequently. I found I could not trust my friends, after one of them gave an ‘exclusive’ interview with a daily newspaper and suddenly the whole thing was brought up again.
    I went occasionally to the university to do a yoga class, but when the block of sessions I’d booked came to an end I didn’t renew. There was no point. I’d reached the end. And so I went back to the house, the wonderful house that had nurtured us, kept us all safe, seen my children grow into strong men and protected me in those lonely months when the wolves were at the door, and I shut myself in and closed my eyes, and I waited.

Annabel
     
     
    Sam was supposed to be giving me a lift to work when his mobile rang. I was already about half an hour late, but instead of asking me to answer it, he pulled over into a bus stop and accepted the call. ‘Hello? … No worries, what’s happened?’ There was a long pause during which I could hear a muffled voice ranting about something in Sam’s ear.
    It was Monday, and it was raining, and despite myself I was still living at Keats Road. I had gone home with Sam briefly yesterday evening, the cat in a basket. The house had been stale and hostile, as though it was pissed off that I’d left. I stood in the living room and looked around, while Sam undid the cat basket. She’d leapt out, bolted for the kitchen and shot straight through the door, which he’d opened to let in some fresh air.
    We went outside to look for her. We shook a box of cat biscuits and called her. After that I started to get a bit worried.
    Sam made cups of peppermint tea for us both, since I didn’t have any milk. We sat at the kitchen table with the back door open in the hope that the cat would come in of her own accord once she realised she was home.
    ‘I wish you’d think again about this,’ Sam said.
    ‘What?’ I asked.
    ‘About being here, on your own.’
    I sipped my tea, even though it was scalding hot. ‘I just think it’s a bit weird, moving in with a family of complete strangers. Don’t you think it’s weird?’
    He looked at me with a surprised expression, then looked away. ‘No, I don’t think it’s weird.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘We’re just helping out, that’s all.’
    ‘Don’t get