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Back Rabbit Hole Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Rabbit Hole
  2. Also by Mark Billingham
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. Preface
  8. PART ONE
  9. ONE
  10. TWO
  11. THREE
  12. FOUR
  13. FIVE
  14. SIX
  15. SEVEN
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. THIRTEEN
  22. FOURTEEN
  23. FIFTEEN
  24. SIXTEEN
  25. SEVENTEEN
  26. EIGHTEEN
  27. NINETEEN
  28. TWENTY
  29. TWENTY-ONE
  30. TWENTY-TWO
  31. TWENTY-THREE
  32. TWENTY-FOUR
  33. TWENTY-FIVE
  34. TWENTY-SIX
  35. TWENTY-SEVEN
  36. TWENTY-EIGHT
  37. TWENTY-NINE
  38. THIRTY
  39. THIRTY-ONE
  40. THIRTY-TWO
  41. THIRTY-THREE
  42. PART TWO
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. FORTY
  50. FORTY-ONE
  51. FORTY-TWO
  52. FORTY-THREE
  53. FORTY-FOUR
  54. FORTY-FIVE
  55. FORTY-SIX
  56. FORTY-SEVEN
  57. FORTY-EIGHT
  58. FORTY-NINE
  59. FIFTY
  60. FIFTY-ONE
  61. FIFTY-TWO
  62. FIFTY-THREE
  63. FIFTY-FOUR
  64. FIFTY-FIVE
  65. FIFTY-SIX
  66. FIFTY-SEVEN
  67. FIFTY-EIGHT
  68. PART THREE
  69. FIFTY-NINE
  70. SIXTY
  71. EPILOGUE
  72. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  73. Back Cover

I tell Lauren she’s an idiot.

Big Gay Bob loudly tells everyone that DC French could probably do with losing a few pounds, which immediately sends Donna out into the corridor to start walking off the spoonful of peas she’s eaten. ‘Mind you, I quite like a chubby bird,’ Bob says. ‘They’re always grateful.’

It doesn’t look like Shaun has anything else he wants to share, and Tiny Tears has nothing to say for herself either. She just sits there pushing her food around and watching me from the other end of the table, which makes me uncomfortable to say the least. I start to lose interest in the conversation when Tony says he had a feeling that the other copper might have been you-know-who and I finally zone out completely when Lauren starts singing ‘I Fought the Law’.

Oh, the other big news is that Graham, the Waiter, has gone.

Spirited away while I was being interviewed, just like that. Off to bang his head against a different wall, wait at a new meds hatch and chuck his dinner at the cameras on some other ward. Maybe Malaika said something after the chat we had about security yesterday, or Marcus took the roasting he got off those coppers to heart and decided he had no other option.

Either way, we’re a body down.

Three, obviously, if you count Debbie and Kevin.

At least Graham can be thankful he wasn’t taken out of here in a bag.

THIRTY-EIGHT

THIRTY-EIGHT

It’s been pretty full on since breakfast so, once I’ve gobbled down the last meds of the day, I decide to retire to my sumptuous boudoir a bit earlier than usual. Getting an extra hour or two of sleep feels like a top idea, plus I fancy some time on my own. Tempting as it might be to veg out in the TV room like I normally do and wind Lauren up if I get bored, I need to chill for a bit, so I sit on my bed working my way through a packet of Hobnobs and dicking around on the internet for a while.

I start to feel more relaxed straight away. Just me, with my finger on a trackpad that can take me anywhere. I laugh out loud when it strikes me that this is the happy place I couldn’t get to a couple of weeks back, in that hideous assessment session.

But what is more problematic is yet another email from Andrew Flanagan . . .

I watch a few stupid videos for a laugh and catch up on some celeb gossip until I’ve finished the biscuits. Then I spend half an hour cruising some of the newsgroups and private chat rooms where, once upon a time I try not to think about too much, I wasted half my life.