To all the poets and promoters who invited me to read in the UK and abroad, especially the USA, enabling me to save up and take time out to write the first drafts; to all those who have been so positive when I declined subsequent poetry work, I hope you appreciate the wordplay.

Finally, I’d like to thank everyone at Dartford Harriers Athletic Club for giving me an alternative reality away from the computer that feeds back into the writing, especially Terry and Marion Povey for getting me back into sprinting after a 35-year gap; the entire Vets team; and Jill, Fleur, Allison and Christine, it’s such a joy to train with you. Respect to Vets still brave enough to attempt the long jump!

About the Author

© Lyndon Douglas Photography

Patience Agbabi was born in London in 1965 to Nigerian parents, spent her teenage years living in North Wales and now lives in Kent with her husband and children. She has been writing poetry for over twenty years; The Infinite is her first novel. Like Elle, she loves sprinting, numbers and pepper soup, but, disappointingly, her leaping is less spectacular.

ELLE’S ADVENTURES CONTINUE!

READ ON FOR AN EXTRACT . . .

Extract from The Time-Thief

Chapter 01:00

STOP, THIEF!

It’s summer solstice, the longest day, Monday the 21st of June 2021. The sun rose at 4:43 this morning and won’t set till 9:21 this evening. Today, I’m going on a school trip to the Museum of the Past, the Present and the Future. I’m so excited that I got up with the sun and couldn’t eat any breakfast even though Grandma woke early to cook it.

I place the mozzarella onto the white flatbread, fold it and squeeze it into my white lunchbox. As I close the lid, Grandma stops my hand.

‘Elle, this your cheese sandwich not enough. Pack some fruit-o!’

‘There’s no time to chop the apple, Grandma. We’ll be late.’

I look at my best friend, Big Ben, who is sitting at our table. He’s just finished eating MY breakfast, fish fished from the pepper soup with fresh boiled yam, and he didn’t cough once! He’s already had porridge and two slices of toast at home. He doesn’t usually collect me from The Mush-Rooms before school but today’s a special day and demands the special-day routine. We have to leave at 8:25 exactly. I won an annual poetry competition and I’m going to read my poem at the museum. I’m nervous as well as excited but if we stick to the special-day routine, it will help me stay calm.

Grandma does big-eyes.

‘Leapling never late.’