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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

Then I see L-Plate walking towards me, and she’s usually up for a laugh, and suddenly I can’t even be bothered to talk to this bloke any more.

I say, ‘Yeah, I’ll send it,’ and hang up.

L-Plate’s about to walk right past me, but I put out a hand. She steps back a bit, obviously. ‘Hey, L . . . you want to do something?’

She stares at me and her face looks a bit odd, like she’s trying to work something out.

‘I’m always up for thrashing you at Jenga if you fancy it.’ She doesn’t look keen. ‘Or we can play cards or something—’

‘You are joking, right?’ She shakes her head. ‘You’re un­believable, do you know that?’

‘What?’

‘After the way you treated me at lunchtime? The way you spoke to me?’

‘Eh?’

‘I don’t even want to talk to you right now.’

‘You’re going to have to help me out here, L . . .’

I’m sure she’s about to storm off, but she’s clearly decided to stand her ground and let me have a piece of her mind. Not that she’s got an awful lot to spare. ‘Well, you certainly didn’t need any help at lunchtime,’ she says. ‘Not when you were calling me a “vacuous posh bitch” or leaning across to steal my food and saying it didn’t matter because smackheads don’t have a big appetite anyway. Flicking bits of it back in my face, then pissing yourself and telling me to grow up when I started to cry.’

Now she tries to move past me and I put out an arm to stop her.

She screams.

George steps towards us from the nurses’ station and I hold up my arms to let him know everything’s all right. I keep my voice low and steady. I say, ‘Honestly, L, I haven’t got a clue what you’re on about. Why the hell would I do any of that? We’re mates.’

‘I have no idea,’ she says. ‘Because I’m just a pathetic junkie and you’re a full-on mental case?’

I close my eyes and try to think. ‘I don’t believe you,’ I say. I’m not sure there’s anything else I can say.

‘Why don’t you ask Donna or Bob? They were both there.’

I can’t do anything but watch her turn and walk the other way. Then I stand there, with George watching me, and desperately try to recall even a moment of what L-Plate’s just described. What I’m supposed to have said to her is bad enough, but I’m way more alarmed by the fact that I can’t remember saying anything at all.

I can’t even remember having lunch.