The Coroner (21 page)

    Dressed
for battle, she teetered downstairs and stopped for a final check in the hall
mirror. She barely recognized the face that stared back at her. It looked
strong, confident, mature, but behind the mask she was a bag of nerves, and
what made it worse was that David would know that. Almost everyone else in her
life thought she'd merely grown tired of courtroom advocacy and had opted for a
change; he knew the truth, that inside she remained an emotional cripple.

    As
she fetched her car keys and double-checked the doors and windows, panic set
in. All the usual symptoms bubbled up and took hold. She considered drifting
through the day doped up to the eyeballs, but her rule had always been no pills
at the weekend. She'd broken it this morning almost without thinking; more
pills now would mean she was dependent. Months ago, when she was in a much
weaker state, she had sworn that wouldn't happen. She pushed herself out of the
front door and got as far as the car, but couldn't get in. What she felt was
dread: she simply couldn't face the day. She slammed her fist on the roof.
What was wrong with her?
She was going to discuss her son's future but she
was so screwed up and self-absorbed she couldn't get beyond her own
insecurities.

    Shit.
Shit. Shit. She was an addict. She'd just have to drug herself and limp through
life as best she could. As long as she saw Ross safely into adulthood she would
have done her job. That was all that really mattered, her one responsibility.
Everything else was irrelevant. She took out her bottle of pills, forced down
the lid and twisted. She had only three left. How had that happened? She
remembered the spillage in the office at the village hall. Half her supply had
disappeared down the cracks in the floorboards. She'd meant to order some more
online but it had slipped her mind. Now it would take until Tuesday to get them
in the post and she'd need at least two to get her through Monday. That left
her just one for today. If she took it now it would have worn off by lunchtime,
but she couldn't even face the drive unmedicated, let alone the ordeal to
follow.

    She
thought about phoning to cancel, pleading work, but David would see straight
through that. Part of her knew this lunch was a test he was setting her: could
she, a woman who until recently was seeing a psychiatrist twice a week, really
claim to have got her life back? Could she be trusted to make decisions about
their son's future?

    She
held the pill in her hand in an agony of indecision. A glossy new Toyota
pick-up drove past in the lane and tooted, a vaguely familiar figure raised his
hand in a wave. It was Rhodri Glendower with a lady friend in the passenger
seat. Jenny smiled and waved back, touched at the neighbourly gesture. Rhodri
was probably dining out on the story of rescuing her from her ditch, but she
had no doubt he would help her out again if the need arose. It's just what
decent people did.

    The
Toyota disappeared up the road, leaving her with the crazy thought that perhaps
the answer to her dilemma lay with another of her well-meaning neighbours.
Steve had had a few drinks when he made his offer to accompany her but he had
seemed sincere.

    What
had she to lose? He could only say no.

    What
he said was sure, just give him a minute to throw on some clean clothes and run
a razor over his face. Just like that, not a hint of surprise. He left her at
the foot of the stairs stroking the dog and shouted down that there was a beer
in the larder if she wanted it, he didn't mind driving.

    She
took him up on it. Five minutes later she was sitting in the passenger seat of
the Golf, a little tipsy from the Grolsch she was still drinking and listening
to Bob Marley on the stereo as Steve rolled a cigarette while steering with his
wrists. He was wearing a collarless white cotton shirt and a crumpled linen
suit with canvas boots, an outfit that looked like it had served him well over
a number of years. Just smart enough to make him look arty without being
unkempt.

    He
said, 'You looked so surprised. I was expecting you.'

    'Then
you must know me better than I do. I wasn't intending to ask you.'

    'Really?'
He licked the paper and glanced over at her as he popped the cigarette in his
mouth.

    'Really.'

    He
brought a box of matches out of his jacket pocket. 'Any objection?'

    'Go
ahead. Your funeral.'

    'I'll
remember you in my will.'

    He
lit his cigarette and opened the window a couple of inches. Jenny didn't say so
but she liked the smell of smoke. It took her back to her student days, when
the world seemed full of endless possibilities and responsibilities were still
way beyond the horizon. Instead, she said, 'So you're doing this for your
karma?'

    Steve
took a draw and blew the smoke out of the crack. 'That and because I like you.'
He saw he'd embarrassed her and said, 'I don't mean like
that
... I like
you. It was just the feeling I had when I met you. I thought we could be
friends.' He gave an apologetic smile. 'Sorry. I should choose my words more
carefully. I guess it's what comes of living alone - you forget how people
react to things.'

    She
called David from her mobile to let him know she was bringing a friend, but got
Deborah. She said it was no problem, there was plenty to go round. When they
pulled into the neat brick driveway and parked alongside David's Jaguar, Jenny
saw him peer out from the sitting-room window to get a glimpse of the
opposition. In the ten seconds before he answered the front door he had pulled
off his V-necked sweater and pushed up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his
sinewy forearms made hard from years of squash and workouts in the gym he'd
built in the cellar.

    He
opened the front door with a manly, 'Hi.'

    Jenny,
still glowing from the beer, said, 'David, this is Steve, a neighbour of mine.
Deborah said it would be fine.'

    'No
problem at all. Pleased to meet you, Steve.' He gave him a powerful handshake.

    Jenny
could see him taking in the scruffy suit and shoes and visibly relaxing. He
could deal with other men only as long as he could feel superior.

    Steve
said, 'Good to meet you, David. I thought she could do with a driver - almost
went under a tractor the other day.'

    Jenny
said, 'He's been very neighbourly.'

    'Excellent.'
David scanned the younger man one more time and gestured them indoors. 'Let me
get you both a drink.'

    He
led them through into the large, expensively decorated open-plan kitchen diner,
which incorporated a conservatory overlooking a large but orderly back garden.
The house managed to be both extravagant and soulless, as spotless as an
operating theatre, the furniture tasteful, modern and expensive, but with no
flourishes or quirks. It was devoid of ornaments or any other objects that
might attract dust; the few paintings were modern and abstract. It was what an
interior designer might call peaceful and what Jenny would call dead. The
garden, too, had been cropped of life: a manicured kidney-shaped lawn fringed
with evergreen shrubs. Nothing that would make a mess or do anything as
frivolous as flower extravagantly or shed leaves. She had lived here with David
for over ten years and it had never felt like home.

    Deborah
was a petite blonde nearer thirty than twenty-five and was busy at the kitchen
peninsular unit, wearing a blue stripy apron over a pretty, high-waisted summer
dress. Just David's type, and with a kind, submissive smile. A woman whose main
desire in life is to please her man. She was welcome to him. Deborah wiped her
hands on the apron - one Jenny now recognized as an unwanted Christmas present
to her from David's mother - and scurried out to greet them.

    'Hello,
Jenny. I'm Deborah.'

    Jenny
said, 'Hi.' They touched hands, Deborah too unassertive to shake. 'This is my
friend, Steve.'

    Steve
said a bright hello and leapt straight in with a kiss on the cheek. Deborah
seemed to like it.

    Blushing
a little, she said, 'Lunch won't be a minute - I got a bit behind with the rice
salad.'

    'No
problem.'

    'Ross
should be around somewhere. Shall I call him?'

    David,
over by the gleaming fridge pouring glasses of Pinot Grigio, said, 'He'll
certainly be well rested. I only managed to turf him out of bed half an hour
ago.'

    'I'm
sure you did it very nicely,' Jenny said.

    Before
David could retaliate Steve stepped in neatly. 'Twelve-thirty's not bad for a
fifteen-year-old. I remember making it until at least four.'

    'My
son's not quite that lazy.'

    Deborah
gave a sugary smile as she carried a bowl of rice salad over to the table.
'Teenagers. We were all the same.'

    A
moment of awkward silence followed as David handed round the glasses. Jenny
could tell he was desperate to know who and what Steve was to her, but was too
wary of her reaction to dive in with direct questions. Over the years he had
come to regard her as irrational, unpredictable and prone to unacceptable
outbursts. His main priority would be to avoid a scene in front of Deborah at
all costs.

    It
was she who broke the impasse. 'David tells me you're living near Tintern. It's
beautiful over there.'

    'Makes
a change from the city.'

    Steve
said, 'The people are bloody weird. Strangers turn up at your door asking for
work.' He gave Jenny a look.

    She
was grateful for his cue. 'Steve's got a farm over the hill. He sorted out my
garden. If the weeds had got any taller I wouldn't have been able to see out of
the windows.'

    Wary
again, David said, 'Oh. What sort of farm is it?'

    'It's
more of a smallholding. Been ten years up there trying to lead the good life.'

    David
looked baffled. 'You mean self-sufficient?'

    'That
was the idea. It almost works.'

    Jenny
said, 'He was an architect.'

    'Not
quite. I dropped out in the final year.' He nodded towards the garden. 'Mind if
I go outside for a smoke?'

    David
shook his head and motioned towards the garden. Deborah quickly rummaged in a
cupboard and came out with a saucer which she handed to him. 'Ashtray.'

    'Thanks.'
He stepped out of the French doors on to the pristine patio, sliding them
closed behind him.

    Deborah
glanced at David and gave Jenny a nervous smile. 'I'll go and see where Ross
has got to, shall I?' She hurried out to the hall, leaving them alone together.

    David
creased his face into a smile, waiting for her explanation.

    'He's
just a friend. He offered to keep me company, that's all.'

    'Did
I say anything?'

    He
didn't have to. Jenny could read his thoughts perfectly. She'd got herself a
young dropout for a boyfriend as a childish rebellion against him, the
high-pressure life they had led and the maternal responsibilities she had
failed to bear. She couldn't face a lengthy explanation. He wouldn't believe
the truth anyway.

    'What
about you and Deborah? Is it serious?'

    'It
seems to be going in the right direction.'

    'She
and Ross get on?'

    'She's
very good with him. More patient than I am.'

    Jenny
wanted to say, that's because she's hardly more than a teenager herself, but
held off. She was determined to stay level, in control. David was going to see
a different side of her today. She was here as an equal.

    He
said, 'How does it feel being a coroner? I must say, it's not a job I ever
imagined you in. You always said you never wanted to be a judge.'

    'It's
nothing like being a judge. I'm more of an investigator. Judges referee
competing arguments; I have to find the truth.'

    'Stressful?'

    'Nothing
I can't cope with.'

    'Your
health must have improved.'

    'I'm
fine.'

    He
nodded, looking almost pleased for her. 'I'm glad.'