Chapters (73)
- Rabbit Hole
- Also by Mark Billingham
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Preface
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- PART TWO
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- PART THREE
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Back Cover
There’s a dry, perfunctory laugh before he sits down again. Our chairs are uncomfortably close together. ‘It’s hard enough to know what to bring when it’s . . . you know, a normal hospital.’
‘This is a normal hospital. Didn’t you see the big sign at the entrance?’
‘You know what I mean,’ he says.
His hair is a bit longer than it usually is and he hasn’t shaved for a few days. I think he’s lost a bit of weight, too. He certainly looks different from the last time I saw him; two months ago, when he came in a couple of days after I’d been sectioned. Remember what I said about people going to funerals just to make sure someone was actually dead? He was a bit pale and puffy back then, sweating through his cheap work suit and wearing those shoes I always hated. The ones that look like Cornish pasties. Oh, and he had a huge bandage on his head, mustn’t forget that.
Now, I’ve got to be honest, he looks pretty damn fit.
He’s still a massive cunt, though.
‘So, how’s things going?’ he asks. ‘I read in the paper about that nurse being killed.’
‘Did you?’
He shakes his head. ‘Pretty bloody mental.’
‘Yeah, it was nice of you to call,’ I say. ‘You know, to check I was all right.’
‘Come on, Al. I knew you were all right. It wasn’t like it was a patient, was it?’
‘Actually, a patient was killed two weeks before that, but let’s not split hairs.’
‘You serious?’
‘Out of sight, out of mind though, yeah?’
‘It’s not like that—’
I sit forward suddenly and enjoy the fact that he recoils slightly. ‘You haven’t been calling me, have you? Calling from a different phone then hanging up?’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘I don’t know, why would you do a lot of things? Why would you call the police on me? Why would you put me in here?’
‘That’s not fair,’ he says. ‘You know why.’
‘Why would you tell the doctors that I’ve been calling you all the time and leaving messages?’
He blinks. ‘Because you have, Al.’ He sighs and reaches into a pocket for his phone. ‘Do you want me to play one of them to you?’
I shake my head and tell him not to bother.
He says, ‘No, I really think you should hear this.’ He dabs at the screen then holds the phone towards me.