Sample chapter of The Better Part - by Deborah Gregory

"To hell with rules and regulations," Nairne whispered. Toby allowed room for one laugh amongst his sighs. What did he care? Nairne knew that she was the only thing on his mind right then, and power heightened her pleasure. They were within a second of making love when the wail came through the fog and split them as an axe splits logs. The cry cut into the clammy night, forcing Nairne and Toby apart, sending their hands up to their ears, leaving them reeling. There was more than sorrow and terror in the scream; it told of fearful injustices. Somewhere within the howl, there was a 'w', almost as if the person responsible for the noise was trying to enunciate the word 'wwwwwail'.

"What is it?" Toby asked. His face, between his hands, was twisted with anxiety. Nairne knew the answer directly he'd asked the question. It was somebody crying, "Wwwwait. Wwwwait..." But how could she tell this to Toby? If ever anything was going to strengthen his superstitions, that would do it.

"I think it's a badger," Nairne told him inventively. She only just managed to stop herself from adding, "Mating." It was not the season for animals to mate, nor the time to produce that word.

"Whatever," Toby mumbled, adjusting his clothing. Then he smiled sadly and told her he should have known better.

"Augurs and understood relations..." he quoted, "prophesies and the natural connection of one event to another..." The wailing had subsided, but their desire had also died.

"The falling flat was a warning. We ought not to play with fate," he sighed. He left then, his greatcoat pulled tightly round his figure, the collar turned up against the cold. He looked as thousands of soldiers must have looked, when those coats were uniform and the young men inside them vanished in the fog.

The cry returned, milder but with steady insistence; "Wwwwait..."

"You wait," Nairne warned. "You've done what you set out to do, now you can bloody well shut up until I get back to the cottage. I'm not driving down those lanes with you howling in my ear. Understood?"

In her car, driving carefully through the hidden countryside, Nairne wondered if she would ever be alone again. Perhaps she was doomed to carry Mary around with her forever. For the time being, Mary remained silent. But this was a night made for screaming. Sound carried easily on the still air; Nairne found herself recreating the plea, remembering the exact tone of Mary's cry, the shock with which it had hit her - and the fact that Toby had heard it too.

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