首发偶发空缺 (临时空缺)-第98章

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ow；　Fats　was　being　more　difficult　to　explain　things　to。

When　his　IT　teacher　had　passed　by　out　of　sight；　Andrew　looked　up　Reading　on　the　inter。　It　was　huge　pared　with　Pagford。　It　had　an　annual　music　festival。　It　was　only　forty　miles　from　London。　He　contemplated　the　train　service。　Perhaps　he　would　go　up　to　the　capital　at　weekends；　the　way　he　currently　took　the　bus　to　Yarvil。　But　the　whole　thing　seemed　unreal：　Pagford　was　all　he　had　ever　known；　he　still　could　not　imagine　his　family　existing　anywhere　else。

At　lunchtime　Andrew　headed　straight　out　of　school；　looking　for　Fats。　He　lit　up　a　cigarette　just　out　of　sight　of　the　grounds；　and　was　delighted　to　hear；　as　he　was　slipping　his　lighter　casually　back　into　his　pocket；　a　female　voice　that　said；　‘Hey’。　Gaia　and　Sukhvinder　caught　up　with　him。

‘All　right；’　he　said；　blowing　smoke　away　from　Gaia’s　beautiful　face。

The　three　of　them　had　something　these　days　that　nobody　else　had。　Two　weekends’　work　at　the　café　had　created　a　fragile　bond　between　them。　They　knew　Howard’s　stock　phrases；　and　had　endured　Maureen’s　prurient　interest　in　all　of　their　home　lives；　they　had　smirked　together　at　her　wrinkled　knees　in　the　too…short　waitress’s　dress　and　had　exchanged；　like　traders　in　a　foreign　land；　small　nuggets　of　personal　information。　Thus　the　girls　knew　that　Andrew’s　father　had　been　sacked；　Andrew　and　Sukhvinder　knew　that　Gaia　was　working　to　save　for　a　train　ticket　back　to　Hackney；　and　he　and　Gaia　knew　that　Sukhvinder’s　mother　hated　her　working　for　Howard　Mollison。

‘Where’s　your　Fat　friend？’　she　asked；　as　the　three　of　them　fell　into　step　together。

‘Dunno；’　said　Andrew。　‘Haven’t　seen　him。’

‘No　loss；’　said　Gaia。　‘How　many　of　those　do　you　smoke　a　day？’

‘Don’t　count；’　said　Andrew；　elated　by　her　interest。　‘D’you　want　one？’

‘No；’　said　Gaia。　‘I　don’t　like　smoking。’

He　wondered　instantly　whether　the　dislike　extended　to　kissing　people　who　smoked。　Niamh　Fairbrother　had　not　plained　when　he　had　stuck　his　tongue　into　her　mouth　at　the　school　disco。

‘Doesn’t　Marco　smoke？’　asked　Sukhvinder。

‘No；　he’s　always　in　training；’　said　Gaia。

Andrew　had　bee　almost　inured　to　the　thought　of　Marco　de　Luca　by　now。　There　were　advantages　to　Gaia　being　safeguarded；　as　it　were；　by　an　allegiance　beyond　Pagford。　The　power　of　the　photographs　of　them　together　on　her　Facebook　page　had　been　blunted　by　his　familiarity　with　them。　He　did　not　think　it　was　his　own　wishful　thinking　that　the　messages　she　and　Marco　left　for　each　other　were　being　less　frequent　and　less　friendly。　He　could　not　know　what　was　happening　by　telephone　or　email；　but　he　was　sure　that　Gaia’s　air；　when　he　was　mentioned；　was　dispirited。

‘Oh；　there　he　is；’　said　Gaia。

It　was　not　the　handsome　Marco　who　had　e　into　view；　but　Fats　Wall；　who　was　talking　to　Dane　Tully　outside　the　newsagent’s。

Sukhvinder　braked；　but　Gaia　grabbed　her　upper　arm。

‘You　can　walk　where　you　like；’　she　said；　tugging　her　gently　onwards；　her　flecked　green　eyes　narrowing　as　they　approached　the　place　where　Fats　and　Dane　were　smoking。

‘All　right；　Arf；’　called　Fats；　as　the　three　of　them　came　close。

‘Fats；’　said　Andrew。

Trying　to　head　off　trouble；　especially　Fats　bullying　Sukhvinder　in　front　of　Gaia；　he　asked；　‘Did　you　get　my　text？’

‘What　text？’　said　Fats。　‘Oh　yeah　–　that　thing　about　Si？　You　leaving；　then；　are　you？’

It　was　said　with　a　cavalier　indifference　that　Andrew　could　only　attribute　to　the　presence　of　Dane　Tully。

‘Yeah；　maybe；’　said　Andrew。

‘Where　are　you　going？’　asked　Gaia。

‘My　old　man’s　been　offered　a　job　in　Reading；’　said　Andrew。

‘Oh；　that’s　where　my　dad　lives！’　said　Gaia　in　surprise。　‘We　could　hang　out　when　I　go　and　stay。　The　festival’s　awesome。　D’you　wanna　get　a　sandwich；　then；　Sooks？’

Andrew　was　so　stupefied　by　her　voluntary　offer　to　spend　time　with　him；　that　she　had　disappeared　into　the　newsagent’s　before　he　could　gather　his　wits　and　agree。　For　a　moment；　the　dirty　bus　stop；　the　newsagent’s；　even　Dane　Tully；　tattooed　and　shabby　in　a　T…shirt　and　tracksuit　bottoms；　seemed　to　glow　with　an　almost　celestial　light。

‘Well；　I　got　things　to　do；’　said　Fats。

Dane　sniggered。　Before　Andrew　could　say　anything　or　offer　to　acpany　him；　he　had　loped　away。

Fats　was　sure　that　Andrew　would　be　nonplussed　and　hurt　by　his　cool　attitude；　and　he　was　glad　of　it。　Fats　did　not　ask　himself　why　he　was　glad；　or　why　a　general　desire　to　cause　pain　had　bee　his　overriding　emotion　in　the　last　few　days。　He　had　lately　decided　that　questioning　your　own　motives　was　inauthentic；　a　refinement　of　his　personal　philosophy　that　had　made　it　altogether　easier　to　follow。

As　he　headed　into　the　Fields；　Fats　thought　about　what　had　happened　at　home　the　previous　evening；　when　his　mother　had　entered　his　bedroom　for　the　first　time　since　Cubby　had　punched　him。

（‘That　message　about　your　father　on　the　Parish　Council　website；’　she　had　said。　‘I’ve　got　to　ask　you　this；　Stuart；　and　I　wish　–　Stuart；　did　you　write　it？’

It　had　taken　her　a　few　days　to　summon　the　courage　to　accuse　him；　and　he　was　prepared。

‘No；’　he　said。

Perhaps　it　would　have　been　more　authentic　to　say　yes；　but　he　had　preferred　not　to；　and　he　did　not　see　why　he　should　have　to　justify　himself。

‘You　didn’t？’　she　repeated；　with　no　change　of　tone　or　expression。

‘No；’　he　repeated。

‘Because　very；　very　few　people　know　what　Dad　…　what　he　worries　about。’

‘Well；　it　wasn’t　me。’

‘The　post　went　up　the　same　evening　that　Dad　and　you　had　the　row；　and　Dad　hit—’

‘I’ve　told　you；　I　didn’t　do　it。’

‘You　know　he’s　ill；　Stuart。’

‘Yeah；　so　you　keep　telling　me。’

‘I　keep　telling　you　because　it’s　true！　He　can’t　help　it　–　he’s　got　a　serious　mental　illness　that　causes　him　untold　distress　and　misery。’

Fats’　mobile　had　beeped；　and　he　had　glanced　down　at　a　text　from　Andrew。　He　read　it　and　experienced　an　air　punch　to　the　midriff：　Arf　leaving　for　good。

‘I’m　talking　to　you；　Stuart—’

‘I　know　–　what？’

‘All　these　posts　–　Simon　Price；　Parminder；　Dad　–　these　are　all　people　you　know。　If　you’re　behind　all　this—’

‘I’ve　told　you；　I’m　not。’

‘—you’re　causing　untold　damage。　Serious；　awful　damage；　Stuart；　to　people’s　lives。’

Fats　was　trying　to　imagine　life　without　Andrew。　They　had　known　each　other　since　they　were　four。

‘It’s　not　me；’　he　had　said。）

Serious；　awful　damage　to　people’s　lives。

They　had　made　their　lives；　Fats　thought　scornfully　as　he　turned　into　Foley　Road。　The　victims　of　the　Ghost　of　Barry　Fairbrother　were　mired　in　hypocrisy　and　lies；　and　they　didn’t　like　the　exposure。　They　were　stupid　bugs　running　from　bright　light。　They　knew　nothing　about　real　life。

He　could　see　a　house　ahead　that　had　a　bald　tyre　lying　on　the　grass　in　front　of　it。　He　had　a　strong　suspicion　that　that　was　Krystal’s；　and　when　he　saw　the　number；　he　knew　he　was　right。　He　had　never　been　here　before。　He　would　never　have　agreed　to　meet　her　at　her　home　during　the　lunch　hour　a　couple　of　weeks　ago；　but　things　changed。　He　had　changed。

They　said　that　her　mother　was　a　prostitute。　She　was　certainly　a　junkie。　Krystal　had　told　him　that　the　house　would　be　empty　because　her　mother　would　be　at　Bel