Burial

31

He and Bob met in the park. They sat on a bench, watching children play. The wind flapped at the tail of Nathan's coat. He was smoking a cigarette.

Nathan said, 'Bob, what you have -- what we both have - is a burden of guilt. All right? You've got to face that. You've got to face it head-on, and you've got to deal with it. You've got to get through it.'

'I don't feel guilty. Why should I?'

'Because we both fucked a nineteen-year-old girl who died. And we buried her in secret. We buried her naked and face down in the fucking woods with our come still dripping down her legs, and nobody ever found her.'

Bob shrugged again.

'Guilt isn't the problem.'

Nathan stood. 'This is going nowhere.'

We have to bury her. No choice.'

'I have to get back to work. So let me think about this. Don't make any rash decisions. We'll work this out. Okay?'

'Fine.' Bob stood too, massive hands buried deep in the pockets of his blue-grey overcoat.

'Okay,' said Nathan.

They walked away in different directions.

Even before reaching the park gates, Nathan had called Justin's mobile. They agreed to meet in the Cricketer's in half an hour. By the time Nathan arrived, Justin was on his second pint. He stood, shaking Nathan's hand. He and Justin were always shaking hands; they shook hands half a dozen times a day. It was a ritual they had fallen into, long ago.

There were drinks waiting for him: a double whisky and a pint of lager. Nathan had downed the whisky before unbuttoning his coat.

Justin asked, 'To what do I owe the privilege this time?'

Nathan removed his coat and laid it over the empty stool. His phone rang. He turned it off. He sipped lager.

Justin said, 'I wish you'd tell me what was wrong.'

'Nothing's wrong. Except that, of all the possible best friends in the world, I end up with you.'

'It's not so bad.'

'Nah,' said Nathan. 'It's not so bad.'

He was late home. Holly was waiting. She was pretending to watch television. 'Where have you been?'

'With Justin. Having a beer.'

'Then why did Justin's secretary call to ask where you were?

Apparently there was some kind of presentation. Someone called Steve Jackson had to do it for you. There's been a bit of a fuss around the office.'

Nathan slumped in the chair.

'Fuck. I forgot.'

'Where were you?'

'With Justin.'

'Well. That's what I said to Miriam: "He's probably with Justin." But she told me Justin was in a meeting.'

'It's her job to say that. She says it a hundred and fifty times a day. It's never true.'

'I've got no reason to disbelieve her.'

'You have every reason to disbelieve her. She's Justin's PA. Her job is to lie.'

'Apparently you had your phone turned off 'That's true enough.'

'That's not like you.'

'No.'

'Are you seeing someone?'

'Excuse me?'

'Are you having an affair?'

He wanted to stand in indignation, but he was far, far too tired.

'You should know better than to ask that.'

'What am I supposed to think? You're like a different person.'

'I'm sorry.'

'If you're not seeing someone, then what is it?'

'I can't explain.'

'Is it Bob?'

'No. Why?'

'Because you haven't been yourself from the minute he came round that night. Right from the minute.'

What could he say? She was right.

She said, 'I'm going to bed.' "Me, too.'

'Whatever.'

He followed at her heel. Trying to minimize at least the physical distance between them.