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ve weighed twice what he weighed； he guessed： an altogether formidable creature。 A glamorous animal in her gross way； with her curling blonde lashes and the delicate down on her shiny snout that coarsened to bristles around her lolling ears； and the oily； fetching look in her dark brown eyes。
Redman； a city boy； had seldom seen the living truth behind； or previous to； the meat on his plate。 This wonderful porker came as a revelation。 The bad press that he'd always believed about pigs； the reputation that made the very name a synonym for foulness； all that was given the lie。
The sow was beautiful； from her snuffling snout to the delicate corkscrew of her tail； a seductress on trotters。
Her eyes regarded Redman as an equal； he had no doubt of that； admiring him rather less than he admired her。
She was safe in her head； he in his。 They were equal under a glittering sky。
Close to； her body smelt sweet。 Somebody had clearly been there that very morning； sluicing her down； and feeding her。 Her trough； Redman now noticed； still brimmed with a mush of slops； the remains of yesterday's meal。 She hadn't touched it； she was no glutton。
Soon she seemed to have the sum of him； and grunting quietly she turned around on her nimble feet and returned to the cool of the interior。 The audience was over。
That night he went to find Lacey。 The boy had been removed from the Hospital Unit and put in a shabby room of his own。 He was apparently still being bullied by the other boys in his dormitory； and the alternative was this solitary confinement。 Redman found him sitting on a carpet of old ic books； staring at the wall。 The lurid covers of the ics made his face look milkier than ever。 The bandage had gone from his nose； and the bruise on the bridge was yellowing。
He shook Lacey's hand； and the boy gazed up at him。 There was a real turn about since their last meeting。 Lacey was calm； even docile。 The handshake； a ritual Redman had introduced whenever he met boys out of the workshop； was weak。
〃Are you well？〃 The boy nodded。
〃Do you like being alone？〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
〃You'll have to go back to the dormitory eventually。〃 Lacey shook his head。
〃You can't stay here forever； you know。〃
〃Oh； I know that； sir。〃
〃You'll have to go back。〃 Lacey nodded。 Somehow the logic didn't seem to have got through to the boy。 He turned up the corner of a Superman ic and stared at the splash…page without scanning it。
〃Listen to me； Lacey。 I want you and I to understand each other。 Yes？〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
〃I can't help you if you lie to me。 Can I？〃
〃No。〃
〃Why did you mention Kevin Henessey's name to me last week？ I know that he isn't here any longer。 He escaped； didn't he？〃 Lacey stared at the three…colour hero on the page。
〃Didn't he？〃
〃He's here；〃 said Lacey； very quietly。 The kid was suddenly distraught。 It was in his voice； and in the way his face folded up on itself。
〃If he escaped； why should he e back？ That doesn't really make much sense to me； does it make much sense to you？〃 Lacey shook his head。 There were tears in his nose； that muffled his words； but they were clear enough。
〃He never went away。〃
〃What？ You mean he never escaped？〃
〃He's clever sir。 You don't know Kevin。 He's clever。〃 He closed the ic； and looked up at Redman。 〃In what way clever？〃
〃He planned everything； sir。 All of it。〃
〃You have to be clear。〃
〃You won't believe me。 Then that's the end； because you won't believe me。 He hears you know； he's everywhere。 He doesn't care about walls。 Dead people don't care about nothing like that。〃 Dead。 A smaller word than alive； but it took the breath away。
〃He can e and go；〃 said Lacey； 〃any time he wants。〃
〃Are you saying Henessey is dead？〃 said Redman。 〃Be careful； Lacey。〃 The boy hesitated： he was aware that he was walking a tight rope； very close to losing his protector。
〃You promised；〃 he said suddenly； cold as ice。
〃Promised no harm would e to you。 It won't。 I said that and I meant it。 But that doesn't mean you can tell me lies； Lacey。〃
〃What lies； sir？〃
〃Henessey isn't dead。〃
〃He is； sir。 They all know he is。 He hanged himself。 With the pigs。〃 Redman had been lied to many times； by experts； and he felt he'd bee a good judge of liars。 He knew all the tell…tale signs。 But the boy exhibited none of them。 He was telling the truth。 Redman felt it in his bones。
The truth； the whole truth； nothing but。
That didn't mean that what the boy was saying was true。 He was simply telling the truth as he understood it。 He believed Henessey was deceased。 That proved nothing。
〃If Henessey were dead…〃
〃He is； sir。〃
〃If he were； how could he be here？〃 The boy looked at Redman without a trace of guile in his face。
〃Don't you believe in ghosts； sir？〃 So transparent a solution； it flummoxed Redman。 Henessey was dead； yet Henessey was here。 Hence； Henessey was a ghost。
〃Don't you； sir？〃 The boy wasn't asking a rhetorical question。 He wanted； no； he demanded； a reasonable answer to his reasonable question。
〃No； boy；〃 said Redman。 〃No； I don't。〃 Lacey seemed unruffled by this conflict of opinion。 〃You'll see；〃 he said simply。 〃You'll see。〃
In the sty at the perimeter of the grounds the great； nameless sow was hungry。
She judged the rhythm of the days； and with their progression her desires grew。 She knew that the time for stale slops in a trough was past。 Other appetites had taken the place of those piggy pleasures。
She had a taste； since the first time； for food with a certain texture； a certain resonance。 It wasn't food she would demand all the time； only when the need came on her。 Not a great demand： once in a while； to gobble at the hand that fed her。
She stood at the gate of her prison； listless with anticipation； waiting and waiting。 She snaffled； she snorted； her impatience being a dull anger。 In the adjacent pen her castrated sons； sensing her distress； became agitated in their turn。 They knew her nature； and it was dangerous。 She had； after all； eaten two of their brothers； living； fresh and wet from her own womb。
Then there were noises through the blue veil of twilight； the soft brushing sound of passage through the nettles； acpanied by the murmur of voices。
Two boys were approaching the sty； respect and caution in every step。 She made them nervous； and understandably so。 The tales of her tricks were legion。
Didn't she speak； when angered； in that possessed voice； bending her fat； porky mouth to talk with a stolen tongue？ Wouldn't she stand on her back trotters sometimes； pink and imperial； and demand that the smallest boys be sent into her shadow to suckle her； naked like her farrow？ And wouldn't she beat her vicious heels upon the ground； until the food they brought for her was cut into petit pieces and delivered into her maw between trembling finger and thumb？ All these things she did。
And worse。
Tonight； the boys knew； they had not brought what she wanted。 It was not the meat she was due that lay on the plate they carried。 Not the sweet； white meat that she had asked for in that other voice of hers； the meat she could； if she desired； take by force。 Tonight the meal was simply stale bacon； filched from the kitchens。 The nourishment she really craved； the meat that had been pursued and terrified to engorge the muscle； then bruised like a hammered steak for her delectation； that meat was under special protection。 It would take a while to coax it to the slaughter。
Meanwhile they hoped she would accept their apologies and their tears； and not devour them in her anger。
One of the boys had shit his pants by the time he reached the sty…wall； and the sow smelt him。 Her voice took on a different timbre； enjoying the piquancy of their fear。
Instead of the low snort there was a higher； hotter note out of her。 It said： I know； I know。 e and be judged。
I know； I know。
She watched them through the slats of the gate； her eyes glinting like jewels in the murky night； brighter than the night because living； purer than the night because wanting。
The boys knelt at the gate； their heads bowed in supplicat