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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

There was a time not so long ago when I’d strut round this place like I still had handcuffs in my pocket and a taser on my belt. I wasn’t looking for trouble, I’m not stupid, but I wouldn’t back away from it. Lauren never put the wind up me like she did a lot of people, because I’d dealt with plenty like her on the Job. Women who hate themselves so much that they have to take out their frustrations on other people. On their kids, more often than not. The likes of Lauren in a place like this didn’t bother me at all.

I’m not the same person any more.

It’s been a long time since I recognised myself. The Alice I was two years ago, I mean. Now I don’t even recognise the person I was two weeks ago.

Suddenly, I’m scared of everybody.

‘Not going in to watch TV?’ Marcus asks.

I’ve taken my meds and now I’m sitting in the main corridor, my back to the wall outside the nurses’ station. It’s brightly lit and I’ve got the widest field of view I can think of anywhere on the ward. I can see people coming from any direction and, if it’s someone I don’t like the look of, I’ve got enough time to make myself scarce or get a nurse to sound the alarm. Truth is, I don’t much fancy sitting in front of the TV with everyone else, but I don’t particularly want to go back to my room, either. Not until I have to, anyway. It’s started to feel even smaller than usual, like it’s shrinking night by night and if for some reason I let the wrong person through the door, I’ve got nowhere to go.

‘Can’t be arsed,’ I say.

‘There’s usually something good on a Friday night, isn’t there?’

I don’t answer, so Marcus sits down next to me.

‘It was a good session this morning,’ he says. ‘Your assessment.’ He waits, but I don’t say anything. ‘Didn’t you think so?’

‘I suppose.’ I watch Ilias come out of the dining room and start walking in our direction.

‘You’re actually very lucky, Alice,’ Marcus says. ‘It might not feel like that now, but it’s always so much better when you know what the problem is. These issues you’re having are clearly PTSD-related, so now we can deal with them properly. With some patients you never know. They never know. Months go by, years even, and there is no explanation for why they’re the way they are.’

Ilias walks past without even looking at me and turns on to the men’s corridor, presumably heading for his room.

‘Is there anything else bothering you?’ Marcus asks. ‘Aside from the blackouts?’