Free Burley Cross Postbox Theft: A Novel by Nicola Barker Page B

TROPICAL PATHS HE HAD NO NATURAL INCLINATION TO TRAVEL, AND THEN…
    W HAT?! WHO?! HOW THE…?!
    H E HAD ENDED UP HERE. IN THIS GOMORRAH. ON TRUMPED-UP CHARGES. SOME THOUGHT HE HAD BEEN FRAMED (RUPERT WAS THE TRUE VILLAIN OF THE PIECE, SURELY?) BUT HE DARED NOT THINK ABOUT THAT – WHAT GOOD COULD IT POSSIBLY DO HIM NOW?
    S WEET P OLLY HAD BEEN TO VISIT HIM BEFORE SHE FLED THE ISLAND, HER CHEEKS STAINED WITH TEARS. ‘THIS IS MY BROTHER’S FAULT…’ SHE’D WHISPERED, ‘IF ONLY YOU’D HAD ACCESS TO A PROPER LAWYER… IF ONLY I’D SAID SOME – THING. IF ONLY I’D BEEN BRAVE ENOUGH TO STAND UP IN COURT… OH WILLIAM, WE COULD HAVE BEEN SO GOOD TOGETHER!’
    A ND THEN, SEEING THE IMMEDIATE, AGONIZED RESPONSE IN HIS BLOODSHOT, GREEN EYES, ‘PLEASE! NO! OH GOD! FORGIVE ME!’
    ‘I F ONLY…’ WILLIAM THOUGHT, SMILING, AS THEY DRAGGED HER, SOBBING, FROM HIS CELL, ‘IF ONLY… IF ONLY…
    (end)

[letter 5]
    The Winter Barn
(off Old Woman’s Lane)
Burley Cross
Wharfedale
    21/12/06
    Ivo,
    I just sent you a text – in fact I just sent you an email (I sent you a text
about
the email) – because I’d just tried to phone you to make sure you downloaded it –
and printed it –
tonight (all of it, mind? There’s about ten pages. I want them printed and then put into the Threadbare file,
pronto –
please,
please
, pretty-please).
    When you didn’t answer your phone I left a voice-mail (just ignore it – it was a gratuitous outpouring of hysterical waffle – although, knowing you, you’ll ignore it anyway. You never seem to get around to listening to my messages. Why
is
that, exactly?).
    Oh, God, God, I’m in such a crazy rush! I just want to be sure to catch the six o’clock post (does the post even
go
at six?). If I don’t manage to catch it then the samples – there’s only two of them, they’re minuscule – won’t reach you until the day after tomorrow and that would be a serious,
serious
pain in the arse (why am I telling you this? What good will it do?
Balls!
I’ll
definitely
miss it at this rate! In fact…
Great
. I have missed it. I’m screwed.
You’re
screwed. Carol-Ann’s going to throw the most monumental strop. Brace yourself).
    Hang on a minute… It’s just this second dawned on me that it’s Bengt’s Birthday Bash tonight and you’ll probably get pissed as a fart and throw a sickie tomorrow, anyway. I only…
    No. No. NO! I don’t
believe
this! I don’t… My bottom’s
soaked
! It’s…
aaargh!
Remember how I told you about thattiny little hole in my bike seat which sucks up water into the foam padding when it rains so that the next time you sit on it…
    NOOOO!! I just… I can’t believe I’ve gone and done it again! Tilly, the woman in Threadbare Cottage, told me – she
warned
me on Friday – to put a plastic bag over it (the seat, Ivo, not my head – although I’m seriously starting to wish I had).
    Damn! My beautiful
chair’s
all wet! It’s that wonderful, padded, red-fabric office chair I got in the Conran Shop sale last year! You told me it was all wrong for The Winter Barn! You
told
me! You said, ‘Jo-Jo, that thing’s
completely
at odds with your country aesthetic.’ But would I bloody listen? Would I hell! Well, you were right
(again
, you smug Teutonic swine)! It’s looked stupid here from the very outset (I was too proud to admit it). And now there’s this huge… Damn, damn,
damn!
    Okay.
Okay
. I need to calm down. I’m having a little panic attack. It’s just all been so unbearably …
urgh …
stressful! I’m on HOLIDAY for Christ’s sake! I just don’t seem able to… that small switch in my head you’re constantly referring to… I just don’t…
    DEUTERONOMY!
    NEHEMIAH!
    ZEPHANIAH!
    LAMENTATIONS!
    EZEKIEL!!!
    YES! YES! YES!
    It’s come to me, in a flash, like a divine revelation! The
name
of the new collection! Scratch the stuff I said in the email (it was all just a pile of crap)! This is
perfect!
This is
fabulous!!!
    ‘LAMENTATIONS:
a modern