The day he found out his daughter was dead, Joe Hope was at Cooper's flat watching horse racing on Channel 4. Joe's filly was a couple of lengths off the pace with less than two furlongs to go. He yawned and cupped his hand over his mouth. They'd been working late. It was early afternoon, Joe had had hardly any sleep and by now the adrenaline of the previous night had all but drained away. He was hot and tired and thinking about saying goodbye and going home.
Pages
- Home
- Ian Walker's New Society Articles
- 2023 Read
- 2023 ReRead
- 2023 Audiobook
- 2022 Read
- 2022 ReRead
- 2021 Read
- 2021 ReRead
- 2020 Read
- 2020 ReRead
- 2019 Read
- 2019 ReRead
- 2018 Read
- 2018 ReRead
- 2017 Read
- 2017 ReRead
- 2016 Read
- 2016 ReRead
- 2015 Read
- 2015 ReRead
- 2014 Read
- 2014 ReRead
- 2013 Read
- 2013 ReRead
- 2012 Read
- 2012 ReRead
- 2011 Read
- 2011 ReRead
- 2010 Read
- 2010 ReRead
- 2009 Read
- 2009 ReRead
- 2008 Read
- 2008 ReRead
- 2007 Read
Showing posts with label Allan Guthrie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Allan Guthrie. Show all posts
Sunday, August 03, 2014
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Two Way Split by Allan Guthrie (Polygon Press 2004)
Banging. Robin glanced at Eddie. More banging. Regular. Insistent. Someone pounding on the front door. Their visitor, the concerned citizen. Robin couldn't tell how Eddie was reacting behind the balaclava. More banging. It stopped and a muffled voice said, 'I'm coming in.' Silence. A shout accompanied by a screech as the wedge under the door was driven back a couple of inches. Robin set down the bag as a hand reached round the gap at the side of the door and sent the wedge tumbling across the floor. As the door swung open, Hilda dashed forward. He caught her by the wrist and dragged her in an arc straight into his arms. She wriggled until he rested the blade of the knife against her lips. She was panting heavily and her hairspray ticked the back of his throat.
'Let her go.' The man who spoke was inappropriately dressed for the cold weather in a white t-shirt and black jeans. He stood in the doorway, chill air gusting in from behind him.
'Who the fuck are you?' Eddie said.
'Let her go.' The man who spoke was inappropriately dressed for the cold weather in a white t-shirt and black jeans. He stood in the doorway, chill air gusting in from behind him.
'Who the fuck are you?' Eddie said.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)