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d I don’t think she used any of it。 She just screamed at Howard Mollison that he was too fat。 Talk about unprofessional …’
Gavin had heard rumours about Dr Jawanda’s public outburst。 He had found it mildly amusing。
‘… all this uncertainty’s very damaging to the people who work at that clinic； not to mention the clients。’
But Gavin could muster neither pity nor indignation； all he felt was dismay at the firm grip Kay seemed to have on the intricacies and personalities involved in this esoteric local issue。 It was yet another indication of how she was driving roots deeper and deeper into Pagford。 It would take a lot to dislodge her now。
He turned his head and gazed out of the window onto the overgrown garden beyond。 He had offered to help Fergus with Mary’s garden this weekend。 With luck； he thought； Mary would invite him to stay for dinner again； and if she did； he would skip Howard Mollison’s sixty…fifth birthday party； to which Miles seemed to think he was looking forward with excitement。
‘… wanted to keep the Weedons； but no； Gillian says we can’t cherry…pick。 Would you call that cherry…picking？’
‘Sorry； what？’ asked Gavin。
‘Mattie’s back；’ she said； and he had to struggle to recollect that this was a colleague of hers； whose cases she had been covering。 ‘I wanted to keep working with the Weedons； because sometimes you do get a particular feeling for a family； but Gillian won’t let me。 It’s crazy。’
‘You must be the only person in the world who ever wanted to keep the Weedons；’ said Gavin。 ‘From what I’ve heard； anyway。’
It took nearly all Kay’s willpower not to snap at him。 She pulled the salmon fillets she had been baking out of the oven。 Gaia’s music was so loud that she could feel it vibrating through the tray； which she slammed down on the hob。
‘Gaia！’ she screamed； making Gavin jump as she strode past him to the foot of the stairs。 ‘GAIA！ Turn it down！ I mean it！ TURN IT DOWN！’
The volume diminished by perhaps a decibel。 Kay marched back into the kitchen； fuming。 The row with Gaia； before Gavin arrived； had been one of their worst ever。 Gaia had stated her intention of telephoning her father and asking to move in with him。
‘Well； good luck with that！’ Kay had shouted。
But perhaps Brendan would say yes。 He had left her when Gaia was only a month old。 Brendan was married now； with three other children。 He had a huge house and a good job。 What if he said yes？
Gavin was glad that he did not have to talk as they ate； the thumping music filled the silence； and he could think about Mary in peace。 He would tell her tomorrow that the insurance pany was making conciliatory noises； and receive her gratitude and admiration …
He had almost cleared his plate when he realized that Kay had not eaten a single mouthful。 She was staring at him across the table； and her expression alarmed him。 Perhaps he had somehow revealed his inner thoughts …
Gaia’s music came to an abrupt halt overhead。 The throbbing quiet was dreadful to Gavin； he wished that Gaia would put something else on； quickly。
‘You don’t even try；’ Kay said miserably。 ‘You don’t even pretend to care； Gavin。’
He attempted to take the easy way out。
‘Kay； I’ve had a long day；’ he said。 ‘I’m sorry if I’m not up to the minutiae of local politics the second I walk—’
‘I’m not talking about local politics；’ she said。 ‘You sit there looking as if you’d rather be anywhere else – it’s – it’s offensive。 What do you want； Gavin？’
He saw Mary’s kitchen； and her sweet face。
‘I have to beg to see you；’ Kay said； ‘and when you e round here you couldn’t make it clearer that you don’t want to e。’
She wanted him to say ‘that’s not true’。 The last point at which a denial might have counted slunk past。 They were sliding； at increasing speed； towards that crisis which Gavin both urgently desired and dreaded。
‘Tell me what you want；’ she said wearily。 ‘Just tell me。’
Both could feel the relationship crumbling to pieces beneath the weight of everything that Gavin refused to say。 It was with a sense of putting them both out of their misery that he reached for words that he had not intended to speak aloud； perhaps ever； but which； in some way； seemed to excuse both of them。
‘I didn’t want this to happen；’ Gavin said earnestly。 ‘I didn’t mean it to。 Kay； I’m really sorry； but I think I’m in love with Mary Fairbrother。’
He saw from her expression that she had not been prepared for this。
‘Mary Fairbrother？’ she repeated。
‘I think；’ he said （and there was a bittersweet pleasure in talking about it； even though he knew he was wounding her； he had not been able to say it to anyone else）； ‘it’s been there for a long time。 I never acknowledged – I mean； when Barry was alive I’d never have—’
‘I thought he was your best friend；’ whispered Kay。
‘He was。’
‘He’s only been dead a few weeks！’
Gavin did not like hearing that。
‘Look；’ he said； ‘I’m trying to be honest with you。 I’m trying to be fair。’
‘You’re trying to be fair？’
He had always imagined it ending in a blaze of fury； but she simply watched him putting on his coat with tears in her eyes。
‘I’m sorry；’ he said； and walked out of her house for the last time。
On the pavement； he experienced a rush of elation； and hurried to his car。 He would be able to tell Mary about the insurance pany tonight； after all。
I
Terri Weedon was used to people leaving her。 The first and greatest departure had been her mother’s； who had never said goodbye； but had simply walked out one day with a suitcase while Terri was at school。
There had been lots of social workers and care workers after she ran away at fourteen； and some of them had been nice enough； but they all left at the end of the working day。 Every fresh departure added a fine new layer to the crust building over her core。
She had had friends in care； but at sixteen they were all on their own； and life had scattered them。 She met Ritchie Adams； and she bore him two children。 Tiny little pink things； pure and beautiful like nothing in the whole world： and they had e out of her； and for shining hours in the hospital； twice； it had been like her own rebirth。
And then they took the children from her； and she never saw them again； either。
Banger had left her。 Nana Cath had left her。 Nearly everybody went； hardly anyone stayed。 She ought to be used to it by now。
When Mattie； her regular social worker； reappeared； Terri demanded； ‘Where’s the other one？’
‘Kay？ She was only covering for me while I was ill；’ said Mattie。 ‘So； where’s Liam？ No … I mean Robbie； don’t I？’
Terri did not like Mattie。 For one thing； she did not have kids； and how could people who didn’t have kids tell you how to raise them； how could they understand？ She had not liked Kay； exactly； either … except that Kay gave you a funny feeling； the same feeling that Nana Cath had once given Terri； before she had called her a whore and told her she never wanted to see her again … you felt； with Kay – even though she carried folders； like the rest of them； even though she had instituted the case review – you felt that she wanted things to go right for you； and not only for the forms。 You really did feel that。 But she was gone； and she probably don’t even think about us now； thought Terri furiously。
On Friday afternoon； Mattie told Terri that Bellchapel would almost certainly close。
‘It’s political；’ she said briskly。 ‘They want to save money； but methadone treatment’s unpopular with the District Council。 Plus； Pagford wants them out of the building。 It was all in the local paper； maybe you saw it？’
Sometimes she spoke to Terri like that； veering into a kind of after…all…we’re…in…this…together small…talk that jarred； because it sat alongside enquiries as to whether Terri was remembering to feed her son。 But this time it was what she said； rather than how she said it； that upset Terri。
‘They’re closin’ it？’ she repeated。
‘It looks that way；’ said Mattie breezily； ‘but it won’t make any difference to you。 Well； obviously …’
Three times Terri had embarked upon the programme at Bel