The Shut Eye

‘That’s nice,’ said Latham sincerely. ‘You’re very welcome, Mr Marvel.’

 

 

Marvel nodded slowly. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’ve seen it.’

 

‘You’re not staying for the open circle?’

 

‘Nah,’ said Marvel. ‘Ghosts are not my thing.’ He waved a vague hand in the direction of Africa.

 

‘Not your thing?’ Latham said gently. ‘After everything that happened?’

 

Marvel laughed and shook his head. ‘Especially after that!’ It was a knee-jerk response. If Marvel had thought about it, he might have said something different. Something more … measured. Although he had no idea what that might have been. Whether it would have been about everything that happened.

 

Or everything that might …

 

‘I don’t even know why I came in,’ he said a little angrily, feeling foolish in the face of his enemy.

 

But Latham opened his hands generously. ‘Everybody goes everywhere eventually, does everything. We all go round in circles, Mr Marvel. Maybe you’ll come again.’

 

Marvel gave him a wry look. ‘Maybe I’ve been before.’

 

‘Ha!’ said Latham. ‘Very good!’

 

Marvel headed for the door.

 

‘Remember, Chief Inspector …’

 

Marvel turned.

 

‘A circle never ends,’ said Richard Latham. ‘Even yours.’

 

Marvel walked out of the church and stood on the pavement opposite the brick parapet of Bickley Bridge.

 

The sun had set but the days were still long, and the twilit clouds had formed spectacular banks of fire and smoke against the fading blue.

 

Marvel couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at the sky.

 

He looked at it now, and felt better for it.

 

Maybe Taunton wouldn’t be so bad after all. He’d be a big fish in a small pool. Show the yokels a thing or two. And maybe they’d have some good murders there. Something he could get his teeth into. Maybe he could advance the forensics of pitchforks and slurry.

 

He snorted and turned towards his second church of the night, where the lights were already on to guide the faithful home.

 

As he did, his eye was caught by a family walking towards him. It was Anna and James Buck, with Daniel.

 

Anna still had hold of Daniel’s hand, while James pushed the buggy.

 

Marvel watched them. He wouldn’t have said anything, but Anna saw him and waved, so he crossed the road.

 

They met at the spot where they had first met six months before, on that bitter night – both Valentine’s cheats, flirting with drink and death.

 

Anna kissed his cheek again, and James shook his hand, and Daniel hid behind Anna’s leg and watched him from there.

 

Marvel ignored the buggy. It was just too weird.

 

He asked after James’s legs. They were healing up well; he’d have scars, but that’s why God invented trousers. He asked how Daniel was settling in and Anna must have told him, but he couldn’t remember any of it, because she was so different. Everything about her was so filled with life and joy that he could barely believe that this person had been inside her all along, just hidden by pain and loss.

 

He remembered how the orange light had fallen on her bare, goosebumpy arm on that frigid February night – right here on this bridge – and wondered whether she was thinking about it too.

 

She didn’t look as if she ever thought about it, and that made Marvel oddly happy.

 

Anna Buck was beautiful – anyone could see.

 

She was still talking, and he was still not quite hearing, when she bent over the buggy and pushed back the hood.

 

With a sense of dread, Marvel looked down at a bag of cement.

 

‘We got Blue Circle,’ said James. ‘For old times’ sake.’

 

They all laughed then, and Marvel caught up with the fact that they were on their way to fill in the five footprints.

 

‘Danny’s going to do it, aren’t you, Dan? He made ’em, he’s going to fix ’em!’

 

Daniel poked his head out from behind Anna just long enough to nod happily at his father.

 

‘Better get off before it gets dark, then,’ said Marvel.

 

They said goodbye and the little family carried on down Northborough Road. Marvel went to cross over to the King’s Arms.

 

‘Edie’s in space!’

 

Marvel’s heart pumped a jolt of pure electricity. He turned to look at Daniel.

 

The boy was still holding Anna’s hand, but had stopped at arm’s length to stare back at him with a fathomless blue gaze.

 

‘What?’ Marvel choked, even though they had all heard it. ‘What?’

 

Daniel only ducked shyly against Anna’s leg, hiding his face.

 

‘Daniel—?’ Anna started, but Marvel held up a hand to stop her.

 

Suddenly, he didn’t want to hear any more than he already had.

 

Didn’t want to live with a different truth.

 

Edie was in space.

 

That was all he wanted to know.

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

 

Belinda Bauer grew up in England and South Africa and now lives in Wales. She worked as a journalist and a screenwriter before finally writing a book to appease her nagging mother. With her debut, Blacklands, Belinda was awarded the CWA Gold Dagger for Crime Novel of the Year. She went on to win the CWA Dagger in the Library for her body of work in 2013. Her fourth novel, Rubbernecker, was voted 2014 Theakston Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year. Her books have been translated into twenty-one languages.

 

For more information visit www.belindabauer.co.uk or @BelindaBauer