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nto her sixties。 Oh； yes； she was one of the world’s grafters； Cath Weedon； whatever the rest of the family became。’
Howard was enjoying giving credit where credit was due。
‘The husband lost his job when they closed the steelworks。 Hard drinker。 No； she didn’t always have it easy； Cath。’
Samantha was barely managing to look interested； but fortunately Maureen interrupted。
‘And the Gazette’s on to Dr Jawanda！’ she croaked。 ‘Imagine how she must be feeling； now the paper’s got it！ Family’s kicking up a stink – well； you can’t blame them； alone in that house for three days。 D’you know her； Howard？ Which one is Danielle Fowler？’
Shirley got up and stalked out of the room in her apron。 Samantha slugged a little more wine； smiling。
‘Let’s think； let’s think；’ said Howard。 He prided himself on knowing almost everyone in Pagford； but the later generations of Weedons belonged more to Yarvil。 ‘Can’t be a daughter； she had four boys； Cath。 Granddaughter； I expect。’
‘And she wants an inquiry；’ said Maureen。 ‘Well； it was always going to e to this。 It’s been on the cards。 If anything； I’m surprised it’s taken this long。 Dr Jawanda wouldn’t give the Hubbards’ son antibiotics and he ended up hospitalized for his asthma。 Do you know； did she train in India； or—？’
Shirley； who was listening from the kitchen while she stirred the gravy； felt irritated； as she always did； by Maureen’s monopolization of the conversation； that； at least； was how Shirley put it to herself。 Determined not to return to the room until Maureen had finished； Shirley turned into the study and checked to see whether anyone had sent in apologies for the next Parish Council meeting； as secretary； she was already putting together the agenda。
‘Howard – Miles – e and look at this！’
Shirley’s voice had lost its usual soft； flutey quality； it rang out shrilly。
Howard waddled out of the sitting room followed by Miles； who was still in the suit he had worn all day at work。 Maureen’s droopy； bloodshot； heavily mascara…ed eyes were fixed on the empty doorway like a bloodhound’s； her hunger to know what Shirley had found or seen was almost palpable。 Maureen’s fingers； a clutch of bulging knuckles covered in translucent leopard…spotted skin； slid the crucifix and wedding ring up and down the chain around her neck。 The deep creases running from the corners of Maureen’s mouth to her chin always reminded Samantha of a ventriloquist’s dummy。
Why are you always here？ Samantha asked the older woman loudly； inside her own head。 You couldn’t make me lonely enough to live in Howard and Shirley’s pocket。
‘No； you haven’t。 Well； good； because Mum and Dad have invited us over。’ And before she could protest； he had added sharply； ‘It’s nothing to do with the council。 It’s to discuss arrangements for Dad’s sixty…fifth。’
Anger was almost a relief； it eclipsed her anxiety； her fear。 She had followed Miles out to the car； cradling her sense of ill…usage。 When he asked； at last； on the corner of Evertree Crescent； ‘How was your day？’ she answered； ‘Absolutely bloody fantastic。’
‘Wonder what’s up？’ said Maureen； breaking the silence in the sitting room。
Samantha shrugged。 It was typical of Shirley to have summoned her menfolk and left the women in limbo； Samantha was not going to give her mother…in…law the satisfaction of showing interest。
Howard’s elephantine footsteps made the floorboards under the hall carpet creak。 Maureen’s mouth was slack with anticipation。
‘Well； well； well；’ boomed Howard； lumbering back into the room。
‘I was checking the council website for apologies；’ said Shirley； a little breathless in his wake。 ‘For the next meeting—’
‘Someone’s posted accusations about Simon Price；’ Miles told Samantha； pressing past his parents； seizing the role of announcer。
‘What kind of accusations？’ asked Samantha。
Howard’s laughter boomed through the room； Maureen gave an affected shriek of horror； but Miles scowled and Shirley looked furious。
‘Not quite that； Sammy； no；’ said Howard。 ‘No； they’ve called themselves “The Ghost of Barry Fairbrother”。’
‘Oh；’ said Samantha； her grin evaporating。 She did not like that。 After all； she had been in the ambulance while they had forced needles and tubes into Barry’s collapsed body； she had watched him dying beneath the plastic mask； seen Mary clinging to his hand； heard her groans and sobs。
‘Oh； no； that’s not nice；’ said Maureen； relish in her bullfrog’s voice。 ‘No； that’s nasty。 Putting words into the mouths of the dead。 Taking names in vain。 That’s not right。’
‘No；’ agreed Howard。 Almost absent…mindedly； he strolled across the room； picked up the wine bottle and returned to Samantha； topping up her empty glass。 ‘But someone out there doesn’t care about good taste it seems； if they can put Simon Price out of the running。’
‘If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking； Dad；’ said Miles； ‘wouldn’t they have gone for me rather than Price？’
‘How do you know they haven’t； Miles？’
‘Meaning？’ asked Miles swiftly。
‘Meaning；’ said Howard； the happy cynosure of all eyes； ‘that I got sent an anonymous letter about you a couple of weeks ago。 Nothing specific。 Just said you were unfit to fill Fairbrother’s shoes。 I’d be very surprised if the letter didn’t e from the same source as the online post。 The Fairbrother theme in both； you see？’
Samantha tilted her glass a little too enthusiastically； so that wine trickled down the sides of her chin； exactly where her own ventriloquist’s doll grooves would no doubt appear in time。 She mopped her face with her sleeve。
‘Where is this letter？’ asked Miles； striving not to look rattled。
‘I shredded it。 It was anonymous； it didn’t count。’
‘We didn’t want to upset you； dear；’ said Shirley； and she patted Miles’ arm。
‘Anyway； they can’t have anything on you；’ Howard reassured his son； ‘or they’d have dished the dirt； the same as they have on Price。’
‘Simon Price’s wife is a lovely girl；’ said Shirley with gentle regret。 ‘I can’t believe Ruth knows anything about it； if her husband’s been on