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
You probably won’t be amazed to discover that, once dinner and after-dinner meds are out of the way, the most popular recreational activity in this place of an evening is settling down in front of the idiot box, and not just because of the appropriate nickname. Actually, I don’t think that anyone in here is an idiot, but you know what I mean. A lot of people are probably quite smart, unlike the TV itself, but even though that’s not got the biggest screen in the world or the widest selection of channels, it’s where most of the patients end up in the hours before bedtime.
Watching what’s on, or arguing about what’s on, or ignoring what’s on but still there anyway.
Make no mistake, there is a variety of other pastimes and pursuits catered for on Fleet Ward. Aside from looking out of the window at the breathtaking views of the A41 there are newspapers every day and, for readers, a decent selection of books in the OT room (if you like thrillers or chick-lit, which I do). There’s a few jigsaws (pieces gone missing or been eaten). There’s Jenga and Cluedo and Scrabble and of course, if you prefer a solo hobby, there’s always frantic masturbation, which, judging by the faces of the housekeeping team when they’re changing the beds every day, remains a perennial favourite. Now I think about it, leisure-wise, there’s often a degree of multi-tasking, and I say that with confidence, because I once saw someone masturbating while they were playing Scrabble.
But it’s the telly that tends to unite everyone in here, even if they rarely get a say in what they get to watch, and it strikes me that the makers of Gogglebox are seriously missing a trick.
. . . and in a hospital in north London, Ilias, Donna and Bob have settled down to watch Bake Off. It’s pastry week and the contestants are . . . oh God, no . . . Donna is running round and round the sofa and Ilias appears to be taking his pants off . . .
I woke feeling a damn sight better, but also annoyed at having slept through dinner. I made short work of some crisps and a box of Jaffa Cakes that Banksy had brought in because, aside from being properly ravenous, I didn’t fancy taking my last lot of meds on an empty stomach. Having sweet-talked Femi – who had just shut up shop – into handing them over after hours, I wandered into the TV room, well up for it.
Aside from Donna, who someone told me later had gone to bed early because she was upset about something, pretty much everyone was in there, which was helpful.
Most important, Ilias, Lauren and Shaun were in there.