Read The Naming Of The Dead (2006) for Free Online

assured them. There was another young woman already doing just that. She hadn’t moved at Siobhan’s approach.
    “We were just telling Santal about you,” Siobhan’s mum said. Eve Clarke looked young for her years, only the laugh lines giving the game away. The same could not be said for Siobhan’s dad, Teddy. He’d grown paunchy, and the skin drooped from his face. His hairline had receded, the ponytail sparser and grayer than ever. He refilled the wineglasses with gusto, his gaze never leaving the bottle.
    “I’m sure Santal’s been riveted,” Siobhan said, accepting the glass.
    The young woman gave the beginnings of a smile. Her hair was neck length and dirty blond, gelled or mistreated so that it emerged in clumps and braids from her scalp. No makeup, but multiple piercings to her ears and one to the side of her nose. Her dark green sleeveless T-shirt showed Celtic tattoos on either shoulder, and her bare midriff showed another piercing to her navel. Plenty of jewelry strung around her neck, and hanging lower still what looked like a digital video camera.
    “You’re Siobhan,” she said with a trace of a lisp.
    “Afraid so.” Siobhan toasted the company with her glass. Another had been produced from a picnic basket, along with another bottle of wine.
    “Steady on, Teddy,” Eve Clarke said.
    “Santal needs a refill,” he explained, though Siobhan couldn’t help noticing that Santal’s glass was actually almost as full as her own.
    “Did the three of you travel up together?” she asked.
    “Santal hitched from Aylesbury,” Teddy Clarke said. “After the bus ride we’ve just endured, I think next time I’d do the same.” He rolled his eyes and fidgeted in his seat, then unscrewed the wine bottle. “Screw-top wine, Santal. Don’t say the modern world doesn’t have its pluses.”
    In fact, she didn’t reply at all. Siobhan couldn’t say why she’d taken such an immediate dislike to this stranger, except that Santal was just that: a stranger. Siobhan had wanted some time with her mum and dad. Just the three of them.
    “Santal’s got the campsite next to us,” Eve was explaining. “We needed a bit of help with the tent...”
    Her husband laughed suddenly and loudly, filling his own glass. “Been a while since we camped,” he said.
    “Tent looks new,” Siobhan commented.
    “Borrowed from neighbors,” her mother said quietly.
    Santal was rising to her feet. “I should go.”
    “Not on our account,” Teddy Clarke protested.
    “There’s a bunch of us heading to a pub.”
    “I like your camera,” Siobhan said.
    Santal looked down at it. “Any of the cops take my picture, I want theirs in return. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?” Her unblinking look demanded agreement.
    Siobhan turned toward her father. “You’ve told her what I do,” she stated quietly.
    “Not ashamed, are you?” Santal all but spat the words out.
    “Just the opposite, to be honest.” Siobhan’s eyes shifted from father to mother. Suddenly both her parents seemed intent on the wine in front of them. When she looked back at Santal, she saw that the young woman was pointing the camera at her.
    “One for the family album,” Santal said. “I’ll send you a JPEG .”
    “Thanks,” Siobhan replied coldly. “Odd name, isn’t it, Santal?”
    “Means ‘sandalwood,’” Eve Clarke answered.
    “At least people can spell it,” Santal herself added.
    Teddy Clarke laughed. “I was telling Santal about how we burdened you with a name nobody down south could pronounce.”
    “Shared any more family history?” Siobhan said, bristling. “Any embarrassing stories I need to be aware of?”
    “Touchy, isn’t she?” Santal commented to Siobhan’s mother.
    “You know,” Eve Clarke admitted, “we never really wanted her to become—”
    “Mum, for Christ’s sake!” Siobhan broke in. But her further complaint was cut short by sounds from the direction of the fence. She saw guards jogging toward the scene. There