The Price of Butcher's Meat by Reginald Hill Page A

behalf—implying her position in the household is less honored guest than unpaid housekeeper & general factotum!
    Made me feel guilty about bad-thinking her—Clara I mean—now I know shes a poor relative —probably shivering in an attic bedroom—& scrubbing floors & cleaning grates for her daily gruel—& brawn on Sundays!
    â€”so Lady Denhams a bit tight with money?—I said—stopping short of Uncle Sidneys phrase.
    â€”you could say that—said Mary.
    â€”but she is throwing this big hog roast party next Sunday—I said.
    Mary did the pursed lip thing again. (I really must practice it! Might come in useful when patients ask my opinion about their amatory feelings toward their livestock!)
    â€”the event is financed by the consortium—she said—all Daphne Brereton is providing is the location. The Hope and Anchor—which she owns—is supplying the drink—& I gather shes even charging the consortium for the Hollis pig—so—as usual—she will end up making a hefty profit!—
    Interesting—eh?
    Spent the evening playing snap with the Parker kids. Found it hard not to do a Headbanger & win all the time—so I rang home—just to remind myself what I was missing. Nice chat with mum—then dad came on. In a good mood—got the house the way he likes it again—no visitors—just him—mum—George plus the twins—& me where he likes me—at the end of a phone line—where we are both at our best!
    Told him about the escaped convie —Mr Deal—aka Dee Ell —who claimed to know him.
    â€”big bugger?—he said—looks like his mam got put to stud with a prize bull?—
    Got a way with words—our dad—but I had to admit he was on the ball here.
    â€”aye—I remember him—Andy Dalziel (he spelt it out)—hes a copper—dont know what he does to crooks—but he used to kick the shit out of us on the rugby field—
    â€”he remembered you fondly too—I said—called you Stompy—
    â€”remembered that—did he?—said dad—sounding like he was touched—Not a bad sort—Dalziel—long as you dont cross him. Hard man to knock down—bet he dented Parkers car!—It were him that got blown up by them mad buggers earlier this year—you probably read about it—if you had time to look at a paper—between disco dancing & getting drunk—
    Interesting view of higher education—our dad!
    â€”thats probably why hes at the convalescent home—I said.
    â€”theyll have their hands full—he said—give him my best if you see him again—
    I said I would—but not much chance—I think. Probably got him in a padded cell after his escape trick the other day!
    So now to my lonely bed—thinking of you all tangled up with the bronze bonking machine! Just cos Ive given up men forever doesnt mean I cant enjoy them vicariously—so—give him one for me!
    Â 
    Lots of love
    Charley XX

9
    Morning, Mildred!
    They’ve still got me banged up in bed, so I might as well talk to myself. At least I’ll hear some sense!
    No. Be fair. Like me old mam used to say, there’s some folk you needn’t be kind to, but you should always try to be fair with everyone.
    I thought I’d wake up with the dawn the morning after the great escape and feel right as rain. Instead it were nigh on midday and I were busting for a piss, but when I slid out of bed, I almost fell over. Felt worse than I’d done in the Central.
    Matron appeared like a flash—mebbe she’s got me bugged!
    â€œMr. Dalziel,” she said. “You shouldn’t be up!”
    â€œShouldn’t I?” I said. “It’s either that or I’ll be floating out of here on my mattress.”
    She had the sense not to suggest I use one of them bottles, but slung my arm over her shoulders, grabbed me round the waist, and