BooksBarbecue
Back The Hollows
Chapters (77)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. PART I
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. PART II
  15. 9.
  16. 10.
  17. 11.
  18. 12.
  19. 13.
  20. 14.
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. 21.
  28. 22.
  29. 23.
  30. 24.
  31. 25.
  32. 26.
  33. 27.
  34. 28.
  35. 29.
  36. 30.
  37. 31.
  38. 32.
  39. 33.
  40. 34.
  41. 35.
  42. 36.
  43. PART III
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. 40.
  48. 41.
  49. 42.
  50. 43.
  51. 44.
  52. 45.
  53. 46.
  54. 47.
  55. 48.
  56. 49.
  57. 50.
  58. 51.
  59. 52.
  60. 53.
  61. 54.
  62. 55.
  63. 56.
  64. 57.
  65. 58.
  66. 59.
  67. 60.
  68. 61.
  69. 62.
  70. 63.
  71. 64.
  72. 65.
  73. PART IV
  74. 66.
  75. 67.
  76. 68.
  77. Acknowledgements

How did you go on with that in your head? That every scrap of creation was on borrowed time; that one day, down in the Yawning, they’d wake and rise and wipe it all away?

How did you go on with your child dead, your husband gone, your life emptied of light and love? You carried it; that was how. Because you had to. As she’d carry this, and be glad of what she had. And throw the doors open, all of them – save for that one locked door she’d hide her knowledge behind – and let in all the world, good and bad, for as long as it was there.

Reuben whined and licked her hand.

“It can’t be so bad a world,” sighed Ellie. “Not if there’s dogs.”

She fed him another scrap, then stood, switched on her torch and waved it to and fro. The helicopter and its lights veered towards her, rotors beating, and beyond it, overhead – for now, at least – the old stars remained in the sky.

Acknowledgements

Acknowledgements

My wonderful wife, Cate Gardner, for listening to the first (MUCH longer) draft of this whole thing.

Emma Bunn, who beta-read the manuscript and gave a great deal of incredibly helpful advice.

Debbie Pearson, Peak District and Derbyshire native, who made sure the place and setting rang true.

Dave Polshaw, Liz Williams, Harry O’Rourke, Paul Flewitt, Kevin Redfern, Ryan Whittaker, Andrew Freudenberg, Anthony Watson and Roy Gray for information about house fires.

Priya Sharma, (aka ‘Priya Poppins, Practically Perfect in Every Way’) for (hopefully) ensuring I haven’t made too big a fool of myself with medical details. (If I have done, it’s my fault, not hers.)

My amazing agent, Anne Perry, who helped shape the novel into its ultimate form and found it a home.

Simon Spanton, Caroline Lambe and Gemma Creffield at Angry Robot, and publicity whizz Sam McQueen.

Countless friends and family, for many kinds of support both during the writing of this novel and over the years.

Anyone whose kindness, advice or help I may have forgotten.

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WORDS ON A PAGE

To: The Department of Virtual and Experimental Therapy

University of Bristol

One Cathedral Square

College Green

Bristol

JUNE 26TH, 2019

Dear Sirs,

It has taken me six months to write this letter.

You should know I have tried everything else. I have tried medication, counselling, cognitive reprogramming exercises. I do yoga, and I paint. I take long walks. I sleep for eight hours a day, read self-help books, listen to soothing podcasts and ambient, lyric-less music. I have a therapy app on my phone, in fact I have three. I masturbate frequently and stay hydrated.

None of it works.

Because I still wake up every single day without exception and think about throwing myself off the Bristol suspension bridge.