The Casual Vacancy

not—’
    ‘—whereas my darling husband doesn’t give a shit how I feel—’
    ‘—plenty for you to do round here, but you’d rather sit at home and sulk—’
    ‘—I don’t intend to sit at home any more, Miles—’
    ‘—not going to apologize for getting involved with the community—’
    ‘—well, I meant what I said –
you’re not fit to fill his shoes!
’
    ‘What?’ he said, and his chair fell over as he jumped to his feet, while Samantha strode to the kitchen door.
    ‘You heard me,’ she shouted. ‘Like my letter said, Miles, you’re not fit to fill Barry Fairbrother’s shoes. He was sincere.’
    ‘
Your
letter?’ he said.
    ‘Yep,’ she said breathlessly, with her hand on the doorknob. ‘
I
sent that letter. Too much to drink one evening, while you were on the phone to your mother. And,’ she pulled the door open, ‘I didn’t vote for you either.’
    The look on his face unnerved her. Out in the hall, she slipped on clogs, the first pair of shoes she could find, and was through the front door before he could catch up.

IX
    The journey took Krystal back to her childhood. She had made this trip daily to St Thomas’s, all on her own, on the bus. She knew when the abbey would come into sight, and she pointed it out to Robbie.
    ‘See the big ruin’ castle?’
    Robbie was hungry, but slightly distracted by the excitement of being on a bus. Krystal held his hand tightly. She had promised him food when they got off at the other end, but she did not know where she would get it. Perhaps she could borrow money from Fats for a bag of crisps, not to mention the return bus fare.
    ‘I wen’ ter school ’ere,’ she told Robbie, while he wiped his fingers on the dirty windows, making abstract patterns. ‘An’ you’ll go to school ’ere too.’
    When they rehoused her, because of her pregnancy, they were almost certain to give her another Fields house; nobody wanted to buy them, they were so run down. But Krystal saw this as a good thing, because in spite of their dilapidation it would put Robbie and the baby in the catchment area for St Thomas’s. Anyway, Fats’ parents would almost certainly give her enough money for a washing machine once she had their grandchild. They might even get a television.
    The bus rolled down a slope towards Pagford, and Krystal caught a glimpse of the glittering river, briefly visible before the road sank too low. She had been disappointed, when she joined the rowing team, that they did not train on the Orr, but on the dirty old canal in Yarvil.
    ‘’Ere we are,’ Krystal told Robbie, as the bus turned slowly into the flower-decked square.
    Fats had forgotten that waiting in front of the Black Canon meant standing opposite Mollison and Lowe’s and the Copper Kettle. There was more than an hour to go until midday, when the café opened on Sundays, but Fats did not know how early Andrew had to arrive for work. He had no desire to see his oldest friend this morning, so heskulked down the side of the pub out of sight, and only emerged when the bus arrived.
    It pulled away, revealing Krystal and a small dirty-looking boy.
    Nonplussed, Fats loped towards them.
    ‘’E’s my brother,’ said Krystal aggressively, in response to something she had seen in Fats’ face.
    Fats made another mental adjustment to what gritty and authentic life meant. He had been fleetingly taken with the idea of knocking Krystal up (and showing Cubby what real men were able to achieve casually, without effort) but this little boy clinging to his sister’s hand and leg disconcerted him.
    Fats wished that he had not agreed to meet her. She was making him ridiculous. He would rather have gone back to that stinking, squalid house of hers, now that he saw her in the Square.
    ‘’Ave yeh got any money?’ Krystal demanded.
    ‘What?’ said Fats. His wits were slow with tiredness. He could not remember now why he had wanted to sit up all night; his tongue was throbbing with all the cigarettes he had smoked.
    ‘Money,’ repeated Krystal. ‘E’s ’ungry an’ I’ve lost a fiver. Pay yeh back.’
    Fats stuck a hand in his jeans pocket and touched a crumpled bank note. Somehow he did not want to look too flush in front of Krystal, so he ferreted deeper for change, and finally came up with a small amount of silver and coppers.
    They went to the tiny newsagent’s two streets from the Square, and Fats hung around outside while Krystal bought Robbie crisps and a packet of Rolos.