The Casual Vacancy

downstairs. Tessa was lying on the sofa in the sitting room, apparently dozing, with the television on in the background.
    ‘How’s it going?’ she asked sleepily, opening her eyes.
    ‘Mary’s just gone by. Walking up the street with Gavin Hughes.’
    ‘Oh,’ said Tessa. ‘She said something about going over to Miles and Samantha’s, earlier. Gavin must have been there. He’s probably walking her home.’
    Colin was appalled. Mary visiting Miles, the man who sought to fill her husband’s shoes, who stood in opposition to all that Barry had fought for?
    ‘What on earth was she doing at the Mollisons’?’
    ‘They went with her to the hospital, you know that,’ said Tessa, sitting up with a small groan and stretching her short legs. ‘She hasn’t spoken to them properly since. She wanted to thank them. Have you finished your pamphlet?’
    ‘I’m nearly there. Listen, with the information – I mean, as far asthe personal information goes – past posts, do you think? Or limit it to Winterdown?’
    ‘I don’t think you need say more than where you work now. But why don’t you ask Minda? She …’ Tessa yawned ‘… she’s done it herself.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Colin. He waited, standing over her, but she did not offer to help, or even to read what he had written so far. ‘Yes, that’s a good idea,’ he said, more loudly. ‘I’ll get Minda to look over it.’
    She grunted, massaging her ankles, and he left the room, full of wounded pride. His wife could not possibly realize what a state he was in, how little sleep he was getting, or how his stomach was gnawing itself from within.
    Tessa had only pretended to be asleep. Mary and Gavin’s footsteps had woken her ten minutes previously.
    Tessa barely knew Gavin; he was fifteen years younger than her and Colin, but the main barrier towards intimacy had always been Colin’s tendency to be jealous of Barry’s other friendships.
    ‘He’s been amazing about the insurance,’ Mary had told Tessa on the telephone earlier. ‘He’s on the phone to them every day, from what I can gather, and he keeps telling me not to worry about fees. Oh God, Tessa, if they don’t pay out …’
    ‘Gavin will sort it out for you,’ said Tessa. ‘I’m sure he will.’
    It would have been nice, thought Tessa, stiff and thirsty on the sofa, if she and Colin could have had Mary round to the house, to give her a change of scene and make sure she was eating, but there was one insuperable barrier: Mary found Colin difficult, a strain. This uncomfortable and hitherto concealed fact had emerged slowly in the wake of Barry’s death, like flotsam revealed by the ebbing tide. It could not have been plainer that Mary wanted only Tessa; she shied away from suggestions that Colin might help with anything, and avoided talking to him too long on the telephone. They had met so often as a foursome for years, and Mary’s antipathy had never surfaced: Barry’s good humour must have cloaked it.
    Tessa had to manage the new state of affairs with great delicacy. She had successfully persuaded Colin that Mary was happiest in thecompany of other women. The funeral had been her one failure, because Colin had ambushed Mary as they all left St Michael’s and tried to explain, through racking sobs, that he was going to stand for Barry’s seat on the council, to carry on Barry’s work, to make sure Barry prevailed posthumously. Tessa had seen Mary’s shocked and offended expression, and pulled him away.
    Once or twice since, Colin had stated his intention of going over to show Mary all his election materials, to ask whether Barry would have approved of them; even voiced an intention of seeking guidance from Mary as to how Barry would have handled the process of canvassing for votes. In the end Tessa had told him firmly that he must not badger Mary about the Parish Council. He became huffy at this, but it was better, Tessa thought, that he should be angry with her, rather than adding to Mary’s distress, or provoking her into a rebuff, as had happened over the viewing of Barry’s body.
    ‘The Mollisons, though!’ said Colin, re-entering the room with a cup of tea. He had not offered Tessa one; he was often selfish in these little ways, too busy with his own worries to notice. ‘Of all the people for her to have dinner with! They were against everything Barry stood for!’
    ‘That’s a bit melodramatic, Col,’ said Tessa. ‘Anyway, Mary was never as interested in the Fields