looked, there was nothing living in the basement now. The shards of a vinyl record lay shattered on the flagstones. A zinc ashtray still smouldered, heaped with lipsticked butts. The remains of a small cat, skeletal, the bones bleached and powdery, reclined in the long, still, slumber of death. That was all. These were her relics.
âIâm not normally a fan of bling,â Rachel said, holding out her hand, examining the ring in daylight.
âIt was symbolic. It was a statement of intent and a sign of commitment and it worked, didnât it?â
âWhat gave you the idea?â
âI was buying a wristwatch in Bond Street and it just sort of came to me.â
âFor someone whoâs supposed to be stupid, youâre actually quite bright.â
âWho said Iâm stupid?â
âItâs axiomatic, dear. Youâre a footballer.â
âIâm an ex-footballer.â
âI wonder if she really could have mended your injured knee.â
âImmaterial. The passive smoking would have done for me.â
Tom looked at the headstone. They were at Rachel Gauntâs graveside. They had placed fresh flowers in a vase on the plot, but that wasnât the only change. The legend RIP now embellished the granite. It looked more burned than chipped into the stone, but was deep and emphatic. Tom thought he knew whose handiwork it was.
âShe checked out to try to get away from them,â he said.
âFrom that cult, that Jericho Society, you mean?â
âIt was the only sure way she could think of. It must have seemed the best solution. She wouldnât have done it if she hadnât been certain of coming back.â
âYou sound almost sorry for her.â
âI almost am.â
âHow tempted were you, Tom? How close did you actually come to giving in?â
âIâm happy with the choice I made.â
âThat isnât really answering the question.â
âI donât think I can answer the question, not without getting into a lot of trouble. But what Iâve just told you is completely true.â
âItâs about making the right choices at the crucial moments, yes?â
âYou were actually listening, when I said that?â
âDid you really score with every penalty kick you ever took?â
âOf course I didnât. Some of them I buggered up completely, but it wouldnât have been at all helpful to tell you that just then.â
âCome on,â Rebecca said, taking his arm. âWe need to be going. Weâve got a statement of intent and a sign of commitment to work on and frankly, Mr Harper, thereâs no time to lose.â
A Note on the Author
F.G. Cottam was born and brought up in Southport, Lancashire. He read History at the University of Kent before moving to London to pursue a career in journalism. During the 1990s, he was prominent in the revolution of the menâs magazine. He played a key part in the launch of
FHM
,
Total Sport
and
Menâs Health
.
Now a father of two, Cottam lives in Kingston-upon-Thames. His fiction is thought up over daily runs along the towpath between the bridges of Kingston and Hampton Court.
Discover books by F.G. Cottam published by Bloomsbury Reader at
www.bloomsbury.com/fgcottam
A Shadow of the Sun
Slapton Sands
The Fire Fighter
The Lazarus Prophecy
This electronic edition published in 2015 by Bloomsbury Reader
Copyright © 2015 F.G. Cottam
The moral right of the author is asserted.
Bloomsbury Reader is an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square
London
WC1B 3DP
www.bloomsburyreader.com
Bloomsbury is a trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing plc
Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Oxford, New Delhi, New York and Sydney
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital,
âIâm not normally a fan of bling,â Rachel said, holding out her hand, examining the ring in daylight.
âIt was symbolic. It was a statement of intent and a sign of commitment and it worked, didnât it?â
âWhat gave you the idea?â
âI was buying a wristwatch in Bond Street and it just sort of came to me.â
âFor someone whoâs supposed to be stupid, youâre actually quite bright.â
âWho said Iâm stupid?â
âItâs axiomatic, dear. Youâre a footballer.â
âIâm an ex-footballer.â
âI wonder if she really could have mended your injured knee.â
âImmaterial. The passive smoking would have done for me.â
Tom looked at the headstone. They were at Rachel Gauntâs graveside. They had placed fresh flowers in a vase on the plot, but that wasnât the only change. The legend RIP now embellished the granite. It looked more burned than chipped into the stone, but was deep and emphatic. Tom thought he knew whose handiwork it was.
âShe checked out to try to get away from them,â he said.
âFrom that cult, that Jericho Society, you mean?â
âIt was the only sure way she could think of. It must have seemed the best solution. She wouldnât have done it if she hadnât been certain of coming back.â
âYou sound almost sorry for her.â
âI almost am.â
âHow tempted were you, Tom? How close did you actually come to giving in?â
âIâm happy with the choice I made.â
âThat isnât really answering the question.â
âI donât think I can answer the question, not without getting into a lot of trouble. But what Iâve just told you is completely true.â
âItâs about making the right choices at the crucial moments, yes?â
âYou were actually listening, when I said that?â
âDid you really score with every penalty kick you ever took?â
âOf course I didnât. Some of them I buggered up completely, but it wouldnât have been at all helpful to tell you that just then.â
âCome on,â Rebecca said, taking his arm. âWe need to be going. Weâve got a statement of intent and a sign of commitment to work on and frankly, Mr Harper, thereâs no time to lose.â
A Note on the Author
F.G. Cottam was born and brought up in Southport, Lancashire. He read History at the University of Kent before moving to London to pursue a career in journalism. During the 1990s, he was prominent in the revolution of the menâs magazine. He played a key part in the launch of
FHM
,
Total Sport
and
Menâs Health
.
Now a father of two, Cottam lives in Kingston-upon-Thames. His fiction is thought up over daily runs along the towpath between the bridges of Kingston and Hampton Court.
Discover books by F.G. Cottam published by Bloomsbury Reader at
www.bloomsbury.com/fgcottam
A Shadow of the Sun
Slapton Sands
The Fire Fighter
The Lazarus Prophecy
This electronic edition published in 2015 by Bloomsbury Reader
Copyright © 2015 F.G. Cottam
The moral right of the author is asserted.
Bloomsbury Reader is an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square
London
WC1B 3DP
www.bloomsburyreader.com
Bloomsbury is a trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing plc
Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Oxford, New Delhi, New York and Sydney
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital,
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