Read Online The Book Stops Here: A Mobile Library Mystery by Ian Sansom - Free Book Online Page B

Israel; he'd punched him only lightly, once, but it was in the face. It had hurt.
    'Ted?'
    'What?'
    'She's not starting.'
    'Well, try her again.'
    'I've tried her again.'
    'Well, try her again again.'
    Israel could begin to feel the restlessness of the vehicles behind him.
    He tried turning the ignition again.
    'Turn the ignition and give it a shoggle!' said Ted.
    'I am turning the ignition and giving it a…shoggle.'
    'Ach!' said Ted, placing Muhammad down. 'Are ye totally useless, man? Can ye not do anything right? Let me there.'
    Ted stood up and started pulling Israel out of the driver's seat.
    'Out! Come on, out!'
    'Ow! Get off! What are you doing?'
    'I'm driving. Come on. Shove over. Get out of the seat, ye eejit. You can't even start a bloody vehicle, never mind drive her.'
    'It's not my fault!' said Israel, slinking into the passenger seat. 'I don't feel well. It's this stupid van.'
    'Don't blame the van. There's nothing wrong with this van.'
    'There is.'
    'There is not!'

    * * *
    By the time Ted had positioned himself in the driving seat and claimed the wheel, a number of other drivers had started to emerge out of their own vehicles and were approaching the van. There was a sharp tap on the window by Ted's head. Ted rolled down the window—with some slight difficulty. He hadn't got round to fixing the windows.
    'Problem, mate?' said a shaven-headed man with a London accent.
    'What?' said Ted.
    'Problem?'
    'No. Why? Have ye a problem?'
    'Yeah. I do as it happens. I want to get my van off this ferry and get 'ome.'
    'Well,' said Ted, turning the key in the ignition and hoping for the best, 'if you were to stop poking yer nose in here and get back in your ve-hicle'—and yes! yes! the van started—'you might be able to.' He loudly revved the van. The man walked away. '" Problem, mate ,"' said Ted loudly, mimicking the man's accent.
    'God,' said Ted, as they drove off the ferry and up the concrete ramp and into the blinding light and Liverpool docks. 'I hate the fucking English.'
    'We're not all bad,' said Israel.
    'No,' said Ted, casting Israel a pitiful glance. 'Some of youse are worse.'

    * * *
    They drove in a long snaking queue through the docks, past multi-coloured containers stacked high one upon the other, and huge lorry trailer-loads and cranes and cargo ships and freighters and they could have been anywhere in the world, until Israel saw a WELCOME TO LIVERPOOL sign that had been spray-painted to read WELCOME TO POO , and he knew he was back in England.
    'Hello, England!' he said.
    Muhammad barked in approval.
    Israel wound down his window and breathed in the fresh air, and he couldn't explain it: it felt like a huge weight was being lifted from his shoulders. He felt instantly refreshed and renewed, as though he'd slept for a long long time and awoken with renewed vigour.
    'England!' he shouted, through his nausea and over his headache. 'In-ger-lund!'
    'All right,' said Ted. 'That's enough now.'
    'Do you want me to take over the driving?' offered Israel.
    'I thought you hated driving,' said Ted.
    'Well, you know. Like you say, we're on my manor now.'
    'We're what?'
    'On my manor.'
    'Aye, and ye're one of the Kray twins all of a sudden, are ye?'
    'No. Just. Home, I mean. This is my home.'
    'Is it?'
    'Yes.'
    'What? You live in Liverpool?'
    'No.'
    'So you don't live in Liverpool?'
    'No, I don't.'
    'So this isn't your home?'
    'No! I live in…I just mean, England. Oh, never mind. You drive, and I'll…' Muhammad looked up at him reproachfully from the floor. 'Just sit quietly here, shall I?'
    Just as Israel spoke these words they were waved over towards a set of Portakabins by two armed policemen.
    'Ach, no,' said Ted. 'I don't believe it.'
    'What?' said Israel. 'What's happening?'
    'Just don't say anything,' said Ted, as he swung the van over.
    One policeman approached Ted's side of the van. Another approached Israel's. Ted wound down his window.
    'Morning, gents,' said Ted's policeman, breathing coffee fumes into