Burial

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This story is for Nadya, Ethan and Finn, for holding my hand and making me happy. It's for Jack the dog, too, if he promises to stop running away, and eating my macaroons.

1

The doorbell rang.

Nathan had a feeling - but he dismissed it, muted the TV and went to the door. There stood Bob; hunched over, grinning in the darkness and rain. Saying: 'Hello, mate.'

Nathan said, 'How did you find me?'

'I looked.'

Nathan tried to slam the door, but Bob put out a big hand, stopping it. Then he removed the hand and said, 'They're digging up the woods.'

'They're what?'

'Digging up the woods.'

'Why?'

'Does it matter? They're building a housing estate.'

'Of course it doesn't matter. What kind of housing estate?'

'The kind people live in. Are you actually listening?'

'Yes. Yeah, of course.'

Nathan glanced backwards, as if somebody was standing at his shoulder. But nobody was; it was Tuesday night. That meant Holly would be back late.

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