1 Peter 4:2
Saturday 27 November: The police and ambulance arrived together. The carcass of what had once been Bob Young was marked out, examined and the street cordoned off, curtains twitched and neighbors gathered, and Angie was questioned. This was more excitement than this quiet, upscale, Springfield neighborhood was used to.
Somewhere a dog howled. Angie looked round for Titus. She had forgotten him but he was there, being petted by a concerned neighbor, someone she knew by sight from church. She nodded her thanks and made brief eye contact before turning back to hear but not hear the officer's questions.
When at last she found herself able to think with clarity, her thoughts turned to Seb. Where was Seb? Could he sleep through all this?
And then she thought of Bob. Where was he now? Did the soul remain a distinct conscious enitity as you entered the stream of eternity and merged with the infinite? she hoped so.
"Can we walk you home lady?" someone was saying.
She declined, shaking her head. "It's just a few steps. I have Titus. Please, I need the space."
The officer agreed, "OK. We'll take your statement in the morning," he said.
She left that place then, feeling eyes on her back, wondering what they were thinking.
But 185 Longhill, when she got there, was silent as the grave. Baxter was still not at home. She felt as if she were breaking apart, her emotions shredded, lonely, sorrowing, hungry, thirsty, yearning. She drank a glass of water, gave Titus some biscuits, locked the house telling the dog to hold the fort, and walked back out into the dark of the night.
When Seb answered the door it was four am. She was leaning on the buzzer, the weight of her body on the door jamb. She allowed herself to fall forward into him. Not caring whether she appeared melodramatic, too totally defeated and discouraged to even allow herself to care whether he rejected her. But he didn't. Nor did he ask a question. He ran her a shower and she discarded her bloodied and dirty clothes wordlessly as he averted his eyes like a schoolboy, gathering the soiled garments and handing her a robe. Later he took her to his bed and made to leave her there but she clutched his sleeve with such desperation, almost whimpering. She begged not to be left alone, and he weakened - and climbed into the narrow single bed alongside her. She was asleep in his arms in moments. Later still, in the first grey light of dawn, she woke with a start, her slate-blue eyes wide like a frightened doe. He was still awake and soothed her then, and she reached for him trembling lest he again reject her. And, without word, he responded to her without hesitation, covering her mouth with his and stifling her gasp as he entered her. And they at last made love in the half light, before both fell back to sleep.
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