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He had it on his mobile phone； and began to read aloud：
‘“Parish Councillor Dr Parminder Jawanda； who pretends to be so keen on looking after the poor and needy of the area； has always had a secret motive。 Until I died—”’
‘Fergus； don’t；’ said Mary； slumping down at the kitchen table。 ‘I can’t take it。 I honestly can’t。 And his article in the paper today too。’
As she covered her face with her hands and sobbed silently； Gavin noticed the Yarvil and District Gazette lying there。 He never read it。 Without asking or offering； he moved across to the cupboard to make her a drink。
‘Thanks； Gav；’ she said thickly； when he pushed the glass into her hand。
‘It might be Howard Mollison；’ suggested Gavin； sitting down beside her。 ‘From what Barry said about him。’
‘I don’t think so；’ said Mary； dabbing at her eyes。 ‘It’s so crude。 He never did anything like that when Barry was –’ she hiccuped ‘– alive。’ And then she snapped at her son； ‘Throw that paper away； Fergus。’
The boy looked confused and hurt。
‘It’s got Dad’s—’
‘Throw it away！’ said Mary； with an edge of hysteria in her voice。 ‘I can read it off the puter if I want to； the last thing he ever did – on our anniversary！’
Fergus took the newspaper off the table and stood for a moment watching his mother； who had buried her face in her hands again。 Then； with a glance at Gavin； he walked out of the room still holding the Gazette。
After a while； when Gavin judged that Fergus was not ing back； he put out a consoling hand and rubbed Mary’s arm。 They sat in silence for some time； and Gavin felt much happier with the newspaper gone from the table。
II
Parminder was not supposed to be working the next morning； but she had a meeting in Yarvil。 Once the children had left for school she moved methodically around the house； making sure that she had everything she needed； but when the telephone rang； she jumped so much that she dropped her bag。
‘Yes？’ she yelped； sounding almost frightened。 Tessa； on the other end of the line； was taken aback。
‘Minda； it’s me – are you all right？’
‘Yes – yes – the phone made me jump；’ said Parminder； looking at the kitchen floor now littered with keys； papers； loose change and tampons。 ‘What is it？’
‘Nothing really；’ said Tessa。 ‘Just calling for a chat。 See how you are。’
The subject of the anonymous post hung between them like some jeering monster； dangling from the line。 Parminder had barely allowed Tessa to talk about it during yesterday’s call。 She had shouted； ‘It’s a lie； a filthy lie； and don’t tell me Howard Mollison didn’t do it！’
Tessa had not dared pursue the subject。
‘I can’t talk；’ said Parminder。 ‘I’ve got a meeting in Yarvil。 A case review for a little boy on the at…risk register。’
‘Oh； right。 Sorry。 Maybe later？’
‘Yes；’ said Parminder。 ‘Great。 Goodbye。’
She scooped up the contents of her bag and hurried from the house； running back from the garden gate to check that she had closed the front door properly。
Every so often； as she drove； she realized that she had no recollection of travelling the last mile； and told herself fiercely to concentrate。 But the malicious words of the anonymous post kept ing back to her。 She already knew them by heart。
Parish Councillor Dr Parminder Jawanda； who pretends to be so keen on looking after the poor and needy of the area； has always had a secret motive。 Until I died； she was in love with me； which she could barely hide whenever she laid eyes on me； and she would vote however I told her to； whenever there was a council meeting。 Now that I am gone； she will be useless as a councillor； because she has lost her brain。
She had first seen it the previous morning； when she opened up the council website to check the minutes of the last meeting。 The shock had been almost physical； her breathing had bee very fast and shallow； as it had been during the most excruciating parts of childbirth； when she had tried to lift herself over the pain； to disengage from the agonizing present。
Everyone would know by now。 There was nowhere to hide。
The oddest thoughts kept ing to her。 For instance； what her grandmother would have said if she had known that Parminder had been accused of loving another woman’s husband； and a gora to boot； in a public forum。 She could almost see bebe covering her face with a fold of her sari； shaking her head； rocking backwards and forwards as she had always done when a harsh blow had hit the family。
‘Some husbands；’ Vikram had said to her late last night； with a strange new twist to his sardonic smile； ‘might want to know whether it was true。’
‘Of course it isn’t true！’ Parminder had said； with her own shaking hand over her mouth。 ‘How can you ask me that？ Of course it isn’t！ You knew him！ He was my friend – just a friend！’
She was already passing the Bellchapel Addiction Clinic。 How had she travelled so far； without realizing it？ She was being a dangerous driver。 She was not paying attention。
She remembered the evening that she and Vikram had gone to the restaurant； nearly twenty years ago； the night they had agreed to marry。 She had told him about all the fuss the family had made when she had walked home with Stephen Hoyle； and he had agreed how silly it was。 He had understood then。 But he did not understand when it was Howard Mollison who accused her instead of her own hidebound relatives。 Apparently he did not realise that goras could be narrow； and untruthful； and full of malice …
She had missed the turning。 She must concentrate。 She must pay attention。
‘Am I late？’ she called； as she hurried at last across the car park towards Kay Bawden。 She had met the social worker once before； when she had e in for a renewal of her prescription for the pill。
‘Not at all；’ said Kay。 ‘I thought I’d show you up to the office； because it’s a rabbit warren in here …’
Kay led her down a shabby； deserted institutional corridor into a meeting room。 Three more women were already sitting there； they greeted Parminder with smiles。
‘This is Nina； who works with Robbie’s mother at Bellchapel；’ said Kay； sitting down with