"The Ground" by Clive Martyn

I stared down at my coffee, an escape from the prying eyes, but it reminded me of the ground. The dark black ground. The damp patch in the shadows of the blossoming willow tree. The ground that held a secret. Two secrets if you count the child held forever in a frozen, dead embrace.

I looked up quickly to meet the gaze of the policemen. I had forgotten their question. Panic seized my heart, causing it to flutter dangerously inside me. To hide my confusion I stood, perhaps too quickly; spilling some of my coffee onto the kitchen table.

I walked to the window staring down the long garden to the trees. I could feel their eyes following me. My boots were on the floor in the corner. There was dried clumps of mud on the soles. Similar mud encased her now; smothering a body slowly breaking down, chewed by fat questing worms.

I didn't close her eyes, so whenever I pictured her she was staring up, the look of shock, outrage forever on her face.

I swallowed hard, nerves drying my throat. The policemen were staring at me - waiting.

Should have thought it through, I thought. Should have known her lover would report her missing. The father no doubt - I wonder if he knew about the child. Soon they would be pouring over the garden, digging, they would find the bodies, then he would know. Then he would know.

I smiled at the thought, forgetting for a split second I was being watched.That was when the policemen stood up. They knew too.