BooksBarbecue
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

It’s only fifteen minutes since I took them, but it looks like the drugs are muddying up my thinking already, because I know exactly who the police are coming for.

I take up my position on a chair at the airlock and I’m relieved to see that Tony hasn’t decided on an early-morning vigil today. I really don’t need any company. I look out through the two doors towards the lift, same as I did yesterday when I was here talking to Banksy, and I think about the couple I saw on their way to the ward opposite this one.

A journey they did not want to make.

They were late thirties, tops, so who were they going to see? It might have been a sibling or maybe a parent, but they looked so bloody nervous that I can’t help but imagine they were visiting their own child. A teenager, if I’m right. Even if I don’t always behave like an adult, does the fact that I’m so much older make things any easier for my mum and dad? It doesn’t take long before I decide it’s probably the exact opposite. That teenager might recover, with his whole life still ahead of him, while my best years – such as they were – are only visible in a rear-view mirror.

I stare at those lift doors and wait for them to open.

How the hell are my mum and dad going to cope with . . . this?

They will, of course, because back when I was having those good years, I saw it too many times to count. Parents standing by their children, no matter what. Bravely, stupidly. I was always kind of . . . impressed, even if I couldn’t quite understand it. Some of the things their kids had done that they were happy to overlook. You can’t understand it, that’s what Johnno said, not until you’re a parent yourself.

This was back when he was all set to become one . . .

I’m guessing that particular ship has sailed for me now, but there was a drunken evening when Andy and I talked about what it might be like and, for about five minutes, I even thought about doing it in here, if you can believe that. Maybe asking one of the ward’s many eligible gentlemen to do me a favour, donation-wise, then borrowing a turkey-baster from the kitchen. I think I was well off my tits at the time—

The lift doors open and out they come.