Idiot, said Col, and he pulled the bundle from the ambulance and it thumped to the forest floor. Col paced about like a prospector, felt the texture of the earth, kicked at the soil.
Here, he said to Ulysses. This is the place. And Ulysses dug out the first divot.
The soil was moist, mostly centuries of leaf mould and worms, an organic world of slow, constant motion.
My mother was afraid of beef brisket, said Col.
Sorry to hear that, said Ulysses.
She suffered from anxiety about most things. Libraries. Thunderstorms. Beef brisket. The world was overwhelming to her. She took her own life.
Col? said Ulysses, suddenly looking up. You know you said this was the perfect place to bury a body?
Yeah. I did.
Well, someone’s beaten us to it. There’s one here already.
Col shone his torch into the pit and looked down.
Well, I’ll be … Fuckit, said Col. Just throw him in on top.
So they did.
Cress cast in a handful of earth and whispered a few words.
You’re kidding me? said Col.
He was somebody’s son.
Fiddled with somebody’s son more like, and Col walked back towards the ambulance.
They got back to the pub at sunrise. Not that you could tell the sun had risen because the fog was even thicker, browner, stickier than before. They encountered no one as they parked up, and no one as they entered the pub.
Col poured out large whiskies all round and raised his glass and said, What happened in Epping Forest stays in Epping Forest.
And they clinked glasses and repeated the toast.
Ulysses shut himself up in his room for a couple of days afterwards. He didn’t want to see anyone, went a bit in on himself, that was the way Cress described it to Peg. He didn’t say much, but Peg wasn’t stupid, she knew what was what. You didn’t do nothing sil—？ No, we’re clean, I promise you, Peg, said Cress. That boy’s sensitive, that’s all. Thought he’d left all that nonsense behind.
In February 1953, Ginny returned. She came back without a baby because she’d given it to someone else and made them happy. That’s the version that came out of Ginny’s mouth, and no one knew what to say about that, so mostly people hugged her and said, Good to have you back, sweetheart.
Col had a doll ready to give her, but Peg said, Don’t you bloody dare, so he didn’t. She looked at him as if he was the lowest form of life and the word sponge came back to haunt him. Tubby carried on his business in the snug and even Col wondered how he could get rid of him.
Claude didn’t return to the pub and Ulysses went up the ladder and changed the sign back to The Stoat. Paint a tree over the bird, said Col, so Ulysses did. A large oak.
And with the first easterly of the year, the pub sign swung to and fro, in that familiar refrain of choice.
By 1 March, it would be safe to say, normal had returned to the pub.
On the fifth, however, so did Claude. He flew in through Ulysses’ window and landed on his chest. It was love at first sight again. Ulysses couldn’t have been happier. He took Claude downstairs and Col said, Oh for fuck’s sake.
By the afternoon, Ulysses was back up the ladder painting a large Amazonian blue parrot over an English oak tree. It was when he came down that the policeman turned the corner.
There you go, Constable, said Ulysses, pushing a glass of lemonade shandy towards him.
The policeman brought a photograph out from his pocket and said, You ever see him around? Been missing three months now.
Ulysses looked at the face and could feel his heart thump.
I wouldn’t give a toss, quite honestly, if he was six feet under, said the policeman. He’s a bad sort.
Never seen him, said Ulysses. So who is he?
The brother of a friend of Reggie and Ronnie. That’s why it’s causing a bit of bother. Goes by the name of Eric Davy.
Cress walked in. Trouble? he said, and Ulysses handed him the photograph. You seen this fella, Cress?
Cress studied the photograph. Never seen him, he said.
Col walked in.
You seen this bloke, Col? said Ulysses, handing over the photograph. Eric Davy, he said. Been missing three months now, the brother of a friend of Reggie and Ronnie.
Col looked at the photo. His face blanched a bit, slight twitch at his top lip, hand to stomach.
Never seen him, said Col, unwrapping a peppermint, and before he’d finished the sentence, Tubby walked in from the snug. Col handed him the photo and said, Name of Eric Davy. You seen him, Tubby? Eric Davy.
Tubby looked at the photograph and smiled. Yeah, I know him. Brother of a friend of Reggie and Ronnie. Dirty git. Right dishonest. Owed me a ton.