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He‘d known only that he had to walk or he had to remain at home and sleep, and if he remained at home and slept, he‘d come to realise that eventually he would will himself not to awaken again. Just his mother saying, ―Please don‘t do this, darling,‖ and his brother suggesting, with his face gone pale and always the threat of another relapse hanging over him and over them all, ―Let me go with you,‖ and his sister murmuring with her arm round his waist, ―You‘ll get past it. ‖ ―It‘s what makes this a murder investigation,‖ she said. He said quietly, ―Madlyn may have been all over the map with how she reacted after what happened between her and Santo. ONCE BEA HANNAFORD HAD him in possession of a hired car, she told Lynley to follow her. ―Well, she was stupid if she ever thought it was going to go somewhere,‖ Madlyn had said. The other one, though…Leigh‘s a real piece of work.‖ She said nothing for a moment, and Cadan saw that she was watching him watching Pooh. Pooh ignored it, and instead wiped his beak on his right claw. She was turning to use the mirror over the tiny coal fireplace in order to see to her hair. What he ended up thinking about was his father, as well as Madlyn and Santo Kerne. Now that his stomach had returned to its normal condition, tuna and sweet corn on brown bread sounded good to him, with crisps on the side and a Coke. Cadan looked about for a newspaper that he could use beneath a chair, just in case. Cadan saw she was crying in the way that actresses cried in films: no redness of face, no screwing up of features, just tears marking a forking path downward from her remarkable eyes. If she wanted to talk, if she wanted to dance, what did it matter? She raised both arms to his neck and held him close, one hand on the back of his head.
He‘d come out for this walk unprepared and uncaring that he was unprepared. Steep ascents to cliff tops, the wind striking his face, the sharp salt air desiccating his skin, scrambling across beaches where reefs erupted from sand and stone when the tide was low, his breath coming short, rain soaking his legs, stones pressing insistently against his soles…These things would remind him that he was alive and that he was intended to remain so. His family had asked him not to go, for they‘d seen his state, although like so many families of his class, they‘d not made any direct mention of it. And then he added, ―Sea Dreams, if you have to know.‖ ―What‘s that? Jago‘s got a caravan at that holiday park where the dairy used to be. ‖ ―You sure as hell want something,‖ Cadan told her. It was, instead, Ione Soutar, who‘d phoned three times in the last thirty-six hours, on one spurious excuse after another. Madlyn said, ―Oh, I suppose, if you like them that age, she‘s all right. Even if he hadn‘t felt like worshipping the porcelain god, he knew better than to engage his sister lengthily or otherwise on the topic of their dad. We got work to go to,‖ and he offered the last sixteenth of apple. But instead, he was being : getting obliterated in silence within the four walls of his room, where he would hurt no one but himself. But as his hangover subsided—a blessed event that did not occur till the middle of the afternoon—he realised he was perilously close to having to think. Missing in action and determinedly mum on the subject of his whereabouts. But he could solve it with a quick trip for takeaway from Toes on the Nose. He needed to remove the bird, but he didn‘t like to put the parrot onto the back of a chair since often Pooh took a removal from Cadan‘s shoulder to a perch as a sign he was meant to drop his load. ―Pooh needs to perch and if I could put this on the floor…? ―Parrots c‘n live to be eighty.‖ The answer seemed to be sufficient unto itself: A pet who could live eighty years wasn‘t likely to be going anywhere, and it didn‘t take a degree in psychology to sort one out. ‖ She reached hastily for the knob of the radio and raised the volume. She said, ―Let‘s dance, Cadan.‖ It was a vaguely South American rhythm. But she moved across the kitchen towards him, each step a swaying of the hips, a rolling of one shoulder then the other, hands extended. Mother of a son who‘d been murdered…Who was to say the woman was meant to act? He didn‘t know the dance, but that didn‘t appear to matter.
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If he did not, his ending was in the hands of the gods. He could not think that there might be a single Supreme Being out there, pressing fingers into the keyboard of a divine computer, inserting this or forever deleting that. For what it‘s worth, though, you‘ll be wasting your time.‖ ―What makes you think I want to grill her? I expect it‘s something your girlfriend appreciates. Not that Madlyn would have reported Cadan to Lew had she caught him in the act of going through cupboards—despite her general weirdness, Cadan‘s sister had never been known to sneak—but she would have realised what he was doing and she would have ragged on him about it. As it was, he‘d had enough trouble merely responding to what she had to say when the subject wasn‘t him at all. ―Jennie‘s all right.‖ He hoped that would put an end to the matter, leaving him to his headache and general queasiness in peace. He‘d told himself that the fact that he was doing his drinking at home was admirable when one considered he could be out at a pub or sitting on a street corner or—worse—driving round in a car while pouring gin down his throat. Out with his surfboard on a day when not a wave was worthy of a ride. He was hardly fit enough to sit on the loo unassisted, let alone in the shape one considered necessary to do away with another human being. Santo‘s equipment had been messed about with, if Kerra Kerne was to be believed. Cadan hadn‘t brought one from home, so that was a bit of a problem. ‖ He hadn‘t the first clue how to reply, so he chuckled lamely. She turned on a radio that sat on the spotless white work top, and she fiddled with the knob till she had a station that she seemed to prefer. ―I think we can manage that.‖ He was vaguely aware of Pooh moving restlessly on his shoulder, claws digging a little too deeply into his flesh. Of course,‖ and when he had the paper spread and Pooh on the back of the chair, she went on to say, ―An unusual choice of pet, isn‘t he.‖ Cadan didn‘t think he was meant to answer, but he did so anyway. I do understand.‖ She cast him a look and her smile was tremulous. But they don‘t always, do they.‖ He dropped his gaze. I know that‘s not true, but I‘m not…How can one ever be ready to look squarely at the death of one‘s child? It called for bodies moving together sinuously, and no way did Cadan want to be one of them. She pressed against him at once, each movement its own form of caress.
Traditionally, fishing (particularly of pilchards) and agriculture (notably dairy products and vegetables) were the other important sectors of the economy.The CICS publications table (.pdf) depicts the number of CICS publications per year categorized by NOAA lead author, Institute (or subgrantee) lead author, and other lead author and whether it was peer-reviewed or non peer-reviewed. Harrison, 2008: A finite volume discretization of the pressure gradient force using analytic integration. Adcroft, Alistair, 2013: Representation of topography by porous barriers and objective interpolation of topographic data. Adcroft, Alistair, Robert W Hallberg, John P Dunne, Bonita L Samuels, J Galt, C Barker, and D Payton, September 2010: Simulations of underwater plumes of dissolved oil in the Gulf of Mexico. Geophysical Research Letters, 37, L18605, doi:10.1029/2010GL044689. The contributions of land-use change, CO2 fertilization, and climate variability to the Eastern U. LETTERS TO THE EDITOR Submit letters to the editor via email to [email protected]