A Life for a Life by Andrew Puckett

September, and I think it would be unlucky to change it. But thank you.’
    She was probably right, he thought, it might give the wrong message to rush things.
    It was strange how he’d known what he’d wanted from the time he first took her out…
     

 
     
    8
     
    May 1998–January 1999
    I could marry this one…
    The thought had come from nowhere and he’d laughed softly at himself as he’d brought the drinks over.
    ‘Share the joke?’ she’d said as he sat down.
    ‘Oh, just something in the play,’ he lied, and picked an incident at random from the Stoppard they’d just seen.
    He’d had plenty of girlfriends, but never such a thought before. It wasn’t as if she was startlingly pretty, he’d had prettier, but there was something about her face, the way it lit when she smiled, that entranced him…
    ‘What made you decide to go for medicine?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never met a lab worker who became a doctor before, let alone a pathologist.’
    He thought for a moment. ‘I suppose it was when I was doing my part-time degree – did you do that?’
    She shook her head. ‘I did mine full-time at university. You were saying…?’
    ‘Well, I could see the others struggling with stuff I was soaking up – sorry if this sounds big-headed, I thought at the time there must be some catch… but then, when I passed with first class honours having not exactly killed myself studying, I realised I had a facility for exams and decided to push it as far as it would go.’
    ‘How sickening,’ she said. ‘I’d have been one of the strugglers. But what made you choose medicine?’
    He shrugged. ‘I found the human body, its workings, fascinating – it’s why I went into lab work in the first place.’
    ‘But how did you manage to get into medical school? I thought they only took people who got straight As at school.’
    ‘They do make exceptions, but it was mostly due to the pathologist where I worked, Dr McCloud.’ He told her how he’d encouraged him, taken the time to show him how to approach the interviews, the kind of answers they liked. ‘I’d never have done it without him.’ He smiled. ‘He had no preconceptions, he took people entirely on their own merits,’
    ‘You make him sound a bit like JS.’
    Fraser smiled again, mirthlessly this time. ‘Aye, maybe he was.’
    ‘And now it’s all change,’ she said tonelessly.
    ‘Yeah.’
    She said, ‘Have you noticed? Nobody ever seems to talk about him now – it’s almost as though there’s a tacit conspiracy…’
    ‘I can think of one reason for that.’
    She looked at him.
    ‘Because if it wasn’t an accident… Can you remember who the police spent the most time with?’
    ‘No?’
    ‘Connie, Ian and Leo. They must have had their reasons for that.’
    ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘No, I can’t believe that. Let’s talk about something else.’
    Later, when he stopped outside her house, she said, ‘Thanks for a lovely evening, Fraser.’
    ‘I’d like to see you again.’
    ‘You will, tomorrow.’
    ‘That’s not what I meant.’
    ‘I know.’ She quickly kissed him on the side of the mouth before climbing out of the car.
    He watched her go in. She waved as she shut the door.
    *
    They disagreed about foxhunting, emotional intelligence, hand guns and South American politics.
    ‘You could always stay the night,’ he suggested.
    ‘Thank you’ – she smiled that smile – ‘but I think I’ll go home.’
    They agreed about Tony Blair, Mozart, the sea and South African politics.
    ‘Stay with me…’
    ‘Don’t push me, Fraser.’
    Yes, she’d lived with someone before, for nearly a year, investing more than she’d got in return, which was why, when she did stay with him, it was at a time of her own choosing.
    *
    ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said. ‘Show me.’
    The one-piece swimming costume clung to her body like sealskin and he suddenly felt a childish desire to show off.
    He took several deep breaths, then