INCARNATION by Daniel Easterman Page B

He waved the box at Sam. Another nod, a forkful of pie.‘You realize you haven’t said a word to me since I got in. Not even “I had a good day".’
    ‘You didn’t ask. You only complained about me starting before you.’
    ‘Very well: did you have a good day?’
    Sam shrugged.
    ‘So-so.’
    ‘So-so?’
    ‘Billy fell in the lake. We had to fish him out. His mum was mad.’
    'I should think so. Is he all right?’
    ‘He spewed up some weeds and stuff, but he’s fine. How about your friend, is he alive?’
    David started unpacking the individual items and putting them in the oven.
    ‘I don’t know. It’s a bit complicated. I may know more tomorrow.’
    ‘You’re going down again?’
    ‘Afraid so. There’s a boy there. He looks about your age, but he’s twelve. Or so he says. Maybe, after this is all over, you can meet him.’
    ‘I don’t know. I’ve got plenty of friends.’
    ‘Believe me, you can always do with more. He speaks Uighur.’
    Sam snorted. ‘Oh, that!’ His father’s repeated efforts to give him Uighur as his second language, just as his own mother had passed it to him, had been dismal failures.
    Just as David slipped the last packet into the oven, the phone rang.
    ‘Bugger.’
    He turned the oven on and headed for the phone.
    ‘Laing.’
    ‘David, this is Elizabeth. Remember? Your ex-wife. Where the hell have you been?’
    ‘Good evening, Elizabeth. It’s always charming to hear your cheerful voice.’
    ‘Don’t be so bloody banal. I’ve been trying to get you all day.’
    ‘I’ve been at work. Remember that? It’s what some of us do for a living.’
    ‘For God’s sake, stop bickering. This is urgent. I had a phone call this afternoon from Maddie. Well, not actually from Maddie. She asked me to ring her back, so I did. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to her in weeks.’
    ‘As a matter of fact, I spoke to her this morning.’
    ‘What? She didn’t tell me. And, for that matter, why didn’t you tell me?’
    ‘I did. I left a message on the great man’s answering machine. I presume you haven’t been home all day.’
    ‘Not yet, no.’
    ‘Where are you?’
    The brief silence before she answered told him everything.
    ‘I’m … not quite sure. Well, it’s a hotel, actually.’
    ‘And you’re in the bar.’
    ‘Lounge, actually. Quite a nice lounge, as a matter of fact.’
    ‘Elizabeth, what did Maddie say?’
    ‘Oh, you know it all already. You always know things before anybody else does. Regular little secret agent, aren’t we?’
    ‘Elizabeth, I asked you what your daughter said.’
    ‘Did she tell you she’s at that man Rose’s clinic again?’
    ‘Yes. I spoke with Rose myself.’
    ‘Well, the cheap little bastard’s on the scrounge again. Will I pay for Maddie’s treatment? Then there’s the room, and the food, and lab tests, and medication, and God knows what. It’s a stinking rip-off. He ...‘
    ‘Elizabeth, stop right there. If you don’t pay, I will make such a public stink about you and your boyfriend it’ll be all over next week’s tabloids. So please wise up. Maddie’s in trouble. And, frankly, she’s in trouble this time because of you and your dangerous liaison. Now, tell me what she said and what you said to her.’
    They talked for another five minutes, but Elizabeth told him nothing he did not know already. When she hung up, he felt as though someone had just wrapped a tight wet rope about his body, constricting him and hampering his breath.
    ‘Was that Mum?’ 
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What’s all that about Maddie?’
    ‘Maddie’s ill again, Sam. She’s in a clinic’
    Despite the vast gulf of years between them, Maddie and Sam had formed close bonds. She cared for him as deeply as though he had been her son and not her brother, and he had made of her a surrogate mother, even before Elizabeth’s disappearance. He barely remembered her previous illness.
    ‘Can I visit her?’
    ‘Not yet. But probably in a week or