Back Theft Save as PDF
Chapters (29)
  1. Contents
  2. ‌Part One
  3. ‌One
  4. ‌Two
  5. ‌Three
  6. ‌Four
  7. ‌Five
  8. ‌Six
  9. ‌Seven
  10. ‌Eight
  11. ‌Nine
  12. ‌Ten
  13. ‌Eleven
  14. ‌Part Two
  15. ‌Twelve
  16. ‌Thirteen
  17. ‌Fourteen
  18. ‌Fifteen
  19. ‌Sixteen
  20. ‌Seventeen
  21. ‌Eighteen
  22. ‌Nineteen
  23. ‌Twenty
  24. ‌Twenty-One
  25. ‌Twenty-Two
  26. ‌Acknowledgements
  27. Note to the Reader
  28. Subscribers
  29. Current and Upcoming Books

‘You!’ I shouted. ‘Sir! You, sir, who shut the window! Please, just buzz me in. I’ve made a mistake! I need to correct it.’

I looked around for something light I could throw against his window to get his attention again. There was a skip a few doors down, and I rummaged around in it until I found a little chunk of masonry that didn’t feel too heavy.

I tried the buzzers one more time.

All they had to do was let me in, and I would have left them alone forever. I called again. ‘Hello! Hello!’ Then I threw the little piece of rubble up at the window. The window didn’t break; no one was in any danger. It just cracked a bit.

The window opened. A white-haired man looked down at me. ‘What the hell are you doing? The police were called five minutes ago, you know, and all of this is on camera.’

‘Please,’ I said. ‘Just let me in. I posted the wrong letter!’

He retreated from the window again, and I sat back down on the steps and put my head in my hands. Then I stood back up.

‘Fine!’ I shouted. ‘I tried! Let them know I tried!’

The building loomed over me, serene, the windows filled with reflected greenery.

I set off walking, dawdling past the doorways, stopping to look back in the direction from where I was coming. I still believed then that I could reverse things, that I could come back in an hour and explain – that the man whose window I’d broken would see the funny side and perhaps even let me off the repair bill when I offered to pay him.

I still believed that they would let me in, that this was all a mistake.

When a police car came past on a corner, the officer in the passenger seat looking hard at me, I smiled at him as though I belonged and kept moving. And as soon as I was round the corner and out of their sight I ran as fast as I could to the Tube. I didn’t dare to wait for the elevator down. Instead I skipped down the stairs, all ninety-three of them, and when I got to the platform I threw myself through some closing doors and I sat down and started to laugh as the train took us east. People were looking at me and shuffling away but I didn’t care. They didn’t let me in. They would never let me in. I was not coming back here.

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‌Twenty-Two