A Bit of Earth Read Online Free PDF Page A

and journals. There was a short piece about Susannah who, the reader was left to surmise, had just a minor part in the tragedy; after all she had only been a part-time university library assistant, and had no publications at all to her name. She was only an MA. And wife of Professor Guy Misselthwaite, Department of Botany. It added that she had left a four-year-old son. The publication extended its sincerest condolences to both of the families involved.
    Ah, the families involved. Perhaps there was somebody who could tell Guy something. Perhaps East had had a brother, a confidant, or a sister who gave him advice or admonished him on his affairs. Or maybe the brother had a wife, the indulgent sister-in-law who would know all the secrets. He imagined these Easts sitting outside at some riverside pub, discussing things. There must be somebody who knew and could tell him the truth. Whatever they were like, however appalling, he would have to ask if they had known anything.
    Guy rang Personnel.
    â€˜Yes, Professor Misselthwaite. I do understand that these are special circumstances, but I really cannot release the personal details of one, albeit late, member of staff to another.’
    â€˜My wife was a member of your staff too. I’m only trying to … I want to express my, you know, share our troubles …’
    â€˜I’m so sorry for your loss, Professor Misselthwaite. I really am. Susannah was a lovely person.’
    Guy ground his teeth. Then help me! he felt like screaming. Instead he picked at something, probably mud, that was engrained in the fabric of his trousers.
    â€˜Well, how about you get in touch with his next of kin, and ask if you can give me their phone number?’ he asked.
    â€˜Of course I’d be very happy to do that for you. I’ll call you back, whatever their answer is.’
    â€˜Thank you,’ said Guy. ‘Thank you.’
    Felix was at nursery. There was stuff that Guy shouldhave been doing in the lab. There were reports that he should have been writing.
    Guy should have gone shopping, or tidied or hoovered. He should have been sorting out more of Susannah’s things. Felix’s room was in the state that Susannah had called ‘a sty of pigs’. Guy went in, thinking that he might at least pick up the animals and put the books back in the bookcase. The house was in chaos. Everything was always lost now. Susannah had been so good at finding things. She had always known where everything was. He lay down on Felix’s bed and stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, which by day were a nasty shade of ivory. Suddenly it was time to go and fetch Felix back.
    The woman on the door at the nursery asked him if he would ‘stay behind for a chat’. Felix was sitting meekly on the carpet holding Marmalade. It took an age for the other children and their parents to leave. Why on earth did they want to spend so long standing around chatting and looking at the unidentifiable things that their offspring had made? Eventually one of the nursery women gestured for him to sit down in a miniature chair. She was not the oldest, but her green sweatshirt was the most faded. Guy decided that this must betoken rank and experience.
    â€˜Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Misselthwaite?’
    â€˜Guy,’ he said. ‘No thanks.’ He imagined it would be served in a tiny cup from the scratched red plastic tea-set that another of the women was busy stowing in a crate with some imitation fruit and vegetables.
    â€˜We just wanted to ask how you are.’
    â€˜Fine,’ Guy almost barked back.
    â€˜And just let you know how Felix has been doing.’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Guy. ‘I am grateful that he’s still been coming.’
    â€˜Of course he has been very quiet, but then he always was very quiet. He’s been taking his toy cat round to any of the activities he does. And he often seems very tired.’
    â€˜Well, neither of us