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Back Bad Relations Save as PDF
Chapters (28)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Part 1
  5. 1.
  6. 2.
  7. 3.
  8. 4.
  9. 5.
  10. 6.
  11. 7.
  12. Part 2
  13. 8.
  14. 9.
  15. 10.
  16. 11.
  17. 12.
  18. 13.
  19. 14.
  20. Part 3
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. Acknowledgements
  28. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

Up in the bunk room where he was sleeping, he pulled his case out from under the bed. He could almost smell Celia’s fury, as she’d shoved his T-shirts and socks and pants in, any old how. He grabbed at them and stuffed them into his duffel bag. There were already a couple of T-shirts rumpled up in there, along with a paperback book he’d been half-reading at the farm.

It was hot in the launderette and the smell of cheap washing powder and heated air from the dryers was comforting. He figured it would be quite nice to come back here after he’d been to the post and just sit on one of those slatted wooden seats. He selected a machine, fumbled for the right coins, filled one of the paper cups that were provided for the purpose with detergent. He squatted down and opened the thick glass door of the machine and began to pull out his clothes from the bag. When he put the final T-shirt from the bottom of the bag into the wash, he heard a clink. Something metal against the perforated metal drum of the machine. A ten pence piece, probably. He put his hand in and under the clothes, feeling for the loose coin.

As soon as he touched it, felt its sharp little points, he knew what it was. He didn’t even need to look at it. When he stood up he could feel his face and neck flushing as the blood rushed to his head. He was acutely aware of the soft thickness and weave of the ribbon, its tiny ridges against his fingertips. All the calm, the sense of purpose and resolve which had come to him up on the Heath deserted him now. It was as if he’d been given an electric shock. He opened his hand and glanced at what it held. He couldn’t bring himself to put it in a pocket, to have it so closely about his person. He didn’t want to be holding it, didn’t want to have to think about it. Instead, he dropped it back into the duffel bag, where it had come from.

14.

One of his roommates at the hostel was going into town to sight-see and asked Stephen if he wanted to come along. National Gallery, Trafalgar Square, then down to have a look at Number 10 Downing Street and finish up in Parliament Square, maybe grab a sandwich from somewhere: make a day of it.