Something You Are Read Online Free Page A

said, softly, as if that would make it easier. ‘Is there any other way of calling Pat?’
    She looked away. ‘He’s not answering. Neither are his friends.’
    The tears were still coming but it was just formality, an imitation of a natural reaction to cover the shock.
    â€˜How are you sure?’ she asked.
    â€˜The clothes, he said.’
    â€˜Right…’
    For a second, I was worried she might faint.
    I heard a car pull up outside and she put a hand to her eyes. ‘Oh God, where the fuck is Pat…?’
    There was a knock, a pause, and then the sound of the doorbell. I moved aside so she could pass me, rubbing her eyes as she opened the door.
    The officers were in uniform, young and grave.
    â€˜Mrs Dyer?’
    She nodded but said nothing. She didn’t invite them in so they carried on talking.
    â€˜We’re very sorry, but we need either you or your husband to come with us to identify a body that was recently found.’ The officer glanced at me over her shoulder, hovering three steps up, trying to stay out of sight. ‘If both of you—’
    â€˜I’m not Pat Dyer,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m… a friend.’
    I could feel the fear emanating from her in cold waves.
    â€˜Do you have any way of getting in contact with Mr Dyer?’
    â€˜No,’ she said. ‘No, he’s not answering his phone.’
    â€˜I can drive you,’ I offered. Why, I didn’t know. It came out like an attack of Tourette’s.
    She wasn’t looking at me but she nodded.
    It was quarter past three.
    Welcome to hell, indeed.

    *
    We were taken to the viewing room. Hospitals all had the same smell as prisons. I looked over my shoulder out of habit, into all the rooms, sizing up the inmates as I had in juvie.
    Clare hadn’t spoken in the car and she didn’t speak now.
    The outline that we could see through the pane of glass, under the white sheet, looked smaller than I had expected. I felt sick all of a sudden. She might have looked older in the photograph but she was only a child, really. They always looked their age when they were dead.
    They pulled the sheet back and Clare recoiled.
    I stepped forwards. The first thing I noticed, which drew me towards the glass in fascination, was that her face was gone. This wasn’t the usual purple bruising and fractures; it was total obliteration. I tried to focus on the point where her jaw ended and her neck began but, even with the blood cleaned away as best they could, I failed to find it.
    Clare had only needed to look once.
    She started crying with her back to the glass and I stayed silent, hanging back. I had tried my best to warn her of what she was going to see in the car but she probably hadn’t heard me.
    The officers moved away to give us space that I didn’t want.
    â€˜No no no no no no…’
    I saw her knees buckle and managed to get to her in time to slow her descent to the floor. I was on my knees, holding her and unable to stop. I felt her tears stain through my shirt. It should have been Pat here instead of me and I hated him for it. Hate, fear and some alien feeling caught in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I went on to autopilot, doing whatI thought other people would do with another man’s wife shuddering with grief in their arms; stroking her hair, soft as I had thought it would be; saying, ‘It’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all right…’ even though it wasn’t. It was never going to be all right.
    I didn’t know how long I went on telling her that before I saw the officers returning and knew it was time for us to go.
    â€˜Come on, let’s go home.’
    No response.
    I glanced at the officers, nodded as if to say ‘Give us a second’ and took a breath.
    â€˜Hey,’ I said, looking down at her. ‘Hey, um… Clare.’
    She looked at me but there was only a flicker of