One Hundred Names Read Free

tired of thinking about it, tired of analysing what on earth had happened, but she suddenly felt the need to repent, to apologise for everything she had ever done wrong just to feel worthy again.
    ‘I have a confession.’
    ‘I love confessions.’
    ‘You know, when you gave me the job, I was so excited, the first story I wanted to write for you was the caterpillar story.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Of course I couldn’t interview a caterpillar, but I wanted it to form the basis of a story about people who couldn’t fly when they really wanted to, what it meant to be held back, to have your wings clipped.’ Kitty looked at her friend fading away in the bed, big eyes staring up at her, and she fought the urge to cry. She was sure Constance understood exactly what she meant. ‘I started researching the story … I’m sorry …’ She held her hand to her mouth and tried to compose herself but she couldn’t, and the tears fell. ‘It turned out I was wrong. The caterpillar I told you about, the Oleander, it turns out it does fly after all. It just turns into a moth.’ Kitty felt ridiculous for crying at that point but she couldn’t help it. It wasn’t the caterpillar’s predicament that made her sad but the fact her research then as now had been appalling, something that had got her into serious trouble this time. ‘The network have suspended me.’
    ‘They’ve done you a favour. Wait for it to settle and you can resume telling your stories.’
    ‘I don’t know what stories to tell any more. I’m afraid I’ll get it wrong again.’
    ‘You won’t get it wrong, Kitty. You know, telling a story – or, as I like to say, seeking the truth – is not necessarily to go on a mission all guns blazing in order to reveal a lie. Neither is it to be particularly groundbreaking. It is simply to get to the heart of what is real.’
    Kitty nodded and sniffed. ‘I’m sorry, this visit wasn’t supposed to be about me. I’m so sorry.’ She bent over in her chair and placed her head on the bed, embarrassed that Constance was seeing her like this, embarrassed to be behaving this way when her friend was so sick and had more important things to worry about.
    ‘Shush now,’ Constance said soothingly, running her hand gently through Kitty’s hair. ‘That is an even better ending than I originally wished for. Our poor caterpillar got to fly after all.’
    When Kitty lifted her head, Constance suddenly appeared exhausted.
    ‘Are you okay? Should I call a nurse?’
    ‘No … no. It comes on suddenly,’ she said, her eyelids heavy and fluttering. ‘I’ll have a short nap and I’ll be all right again. I don’t want you to go. There is so much for us to talk about. Such as Glen,’ she smiled weakly.
    Kitty faked a smile in return. ‘Yes. You sleep,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll be right here.’
    Constance could always read her expressions, could dismantle her lies in seconds. ‘I didn’t like him much anyway.’
    Within seconds Constance’s eyes fluttered closed.
    Kitty sat on the windowsill in Constance’s hospital room, looking down at the people passing below, trying to figure out the route home where the fewest people would see her. A flow of French snapped her out of her trance and she turned to Constance in surprise. Apart from when Constance swore, in all the ten years she had known her, Kitty had never heard her speak French.
    ‘What did you say?’
    Constance seemed momentarily confused. She cleared her throat and gathered herself. ‘You look far away.’
    ‘I was thinking.’
    ‘I shall alert the authorities at once.’
    ‘I have a question I’ve always wanted to ask you.’ Kitty moved to the chair beside Constance’s bed.
    ‘Oh, yes? Why didn’t Bob and I have children?’ She sat up in the bed and reached for her water. She sucked the tiniest amount from a straw.
    ‘No, know-it-all. You’ve killed every plant you’ve ever owned, I can’t imagine what you’d have been like with a child. No, I