The Casual Vacancy

of his time and his attention than his own daughters,’ said Mary. ‘And she never even gave a penny for his wreath. The girls told me. The whole rowing team chipped in, except Krystal. And she didn’t come to his funeral, even, after all he’d done for her.’
    ‘Yeah, well, that shows—’
    ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t stop thinking about it all,’ she said frenetically. ‘I can’t stop thinking that he’d still want me to worry about bloody Krystal Weedon. I can’t get past it. All the last day of his life, and he had a headache and he didn’t do anything about it, writing that bloody article!’
    ‘I know,’ said Gavin. ‘I know. I think,’ he said, with a sense of putting his foot tentatively on an old rope bridge, ‘it’s a bloke thing. Miles is the same. Samantha didn’t want him to stand for the council, but he went ahead anyway. You know, some men really like a bit of power—’
    ‘Barry wasn’t in it for power,’ said Mary, and Gavin hastily retreated.
    ‘No, no, Barry wasn’t. He was in it for—’
    ‘He couldn’t help himself,’ she said. ‘He thought everyone was like him, that if you gave them a hand they’d start bettering themselves.’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Gavin, ‘but the point is, there are other people who could use a hand – people at home …’
    ‘Well, exactly!’ said Mary, dissolving yet again into tears.
    ‘Mary,’ said Gavin, leaving his chair, moving to her side (on the rope bridge now, with a sense of mingled panic and anticipation), ‘look … it’s really early … I mean, it’s far too soon … but you’ll meet someone else.’
    ‘At forty,’ sobbed Mary, ‘with four children …’
    ‘Plenty of men,’ he began, but that was no good; he would rather she did not think she had too many options. ‘The right man,’ he corrected himself, ‘won’t care that you’ve got kids. Anyway, they’re such nice kids … anyone would be glad to take them on.’
    ‘Oh, Gavin, you’re so sweet,’ she said, dabbing her eyes again.
    He put his arm around her, and she did not shrug it off. They stood without speaking while she blew her nose, and then he felt her tense to move away, and he said, ‘Mary …’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I’ve got to – Mary, I think I’m in love with you.’
    He knew for a few seconds the glorious pride of the skydiver who pushes off firm floor into limitless space.
    Then she pulled away.
    ‘Gavin. I—’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, observing with alarm her repulsed expression. ‘I wanted you to hear it from me. I told Kay that’s why I wanted to split up, and I was scared you’d hear it from someone else. I wouldn’t have said anything for months. Years,’ he added, trying to bring back her smile and the mood in which she found him sweet.
    But Mary was shaking her head, arms folded over her thin chest.
    ‘Gavin, I never, ever—’
    ‘Forget I said anything,’ he said foolishly. ‘Let’s just forget it.’
    ‘I thought you understood,’ she said.
    He gathered that he should have known that she was encased in the invisible armour of grief, and that it ought to have protected her.
    ‘I do understand,’ he lied. ‘I wouldn’t have told you, only—’
    ‘Barry always said you fancied me,’ said Mary.
    ‘I didn’t,’ he said frantically.
    ‘Gavin, I think you’re such a nice man,’ she said breathlessly. ‘But I don’t – I mean, even if—’
    ‘No,’ he said loudly, trying to drown her out. ‘I understand. Listen, I’m going to go.’
    ‘There’s no need …’
    But he almost hated her now. He had heard what she was trying to say:
even if I weren’t grieving for my husband, I wouldn’t want you.
    His visit had been so brief that when Mary, slightly shaky, poured away his coffee it was still hot.

XI
    Howard had told Shirley that he did not feel well, that he thought he had better stay in bed and rest, and that the Copper Kettle could run without him for an afternoon.
    ‘I’ll call Mo,’ he said.
    ‘No, I’ll call her,’ said Shirley sharply.
    As she closed the bedroom door on him, Shirley thought,
He’s using his heart
.
    He had said, ‘Don’t be silly, Shirl’, and then, ‘It’s rubbish, bloody rubbish’, and she had not pressed him. Years of genteel avoidance of grisly topics (Shirley had been literally struck dumb when twenty-three-year-old Patricia had said: ‘I’m gay, Mum.’) seemed to have muzzled something inside her.
    The doorbell rang. Lexie said, ‘Dad told me to