Chapters (134)
- Cover
- ALSO BY J.S. MONROE
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Contents
- One week earlier
- 1
- Friday
- 2
- Saturday
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- Sunday
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- Monday
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- Tuesday
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- One week later
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- One month later
- 116
- Acknowledgements
- About the author
- An Invitation from the Publisher
After Silas has finished with his boss, he picks up his laptop from the Parade Room and heads straight for the station’s main entrance. He knows the reception staff well. These people are on the frontline, dealing with the drunk and the drugged, the violent and the damaged, anyone that Response brings in off the streets.
‘Still coping with the fame?’ he asks ‘Bodie’, one of the two female receptionists who were recently featured in a fly-on-the-wall TV documentary about Gablecross. It’s not her real name but everyone at the station calls her Bodie.
‘Graham Norton this week, Hollywood the next,’ she says drily. ‘You know how it is.’
He waits as a pair of uniforms walk past, escorting a young homeless man out of the main door. It could so easily be Conor.
‘I need to look at the car park cameras out front,’ he says, once they’ve gone. ‘From February this year.’
‘You’re in luck,’ she says. ‘We’ve both been watching Marie Kondo.’
Silas cocks his head quizzically. What are they on about?
‘Netflix?’ she says, turning to open a cupboard behind her. ‘Japanese decluttering expert?’
‘She tells you how to vertically fold your socks,’ ‘Doyle’, the other woman, says. No one can remember who first started calling them Bodie and Doyle. Some of the younger officers must wonder why too. The Professionals was a long time ago. ‘You should try it sometime.’
Silas has enough trouble finding a matching pair of socks let alone folding them.
After searching in the cupboard, Bodie hands a small box over to Silas. ‘Here we go,’ she says. ‘Neatly sorted by date. If you’d come last week, it would have taken me all morning to find it. You can’t take it away though, not unless you want me fired.’
Silas was expecting as much. It’s why he brought down his laptop.
‘Thanks,’ he says, nodding at one of the small interview rooms that adjoin the reception area. ‘I’ll be in there.’
‘Keep only those things that give you the spark of joy,’ Doyle says as Silas walks away with the box.
‘Have gratitude for what you’re discarding,’ Bodie calls out.