Read Online The case of the missing books by Ian Sansom - Free Book Online

these somewhere?'
    'Aye. Come on.'
    'And I wondered if you had a telephone I could use at all. My mobile…'
    'Ach, aye, the coverage here is terrible.'
    'Yes.'
    'No problem.'
    'And, er, sorry to be a bother and everything…'
    'Yes?'
    'But you wouldn't have any headache tablets at all, would you?'
    'Granda?' said Brownie.
    'What?'
    'Headache tablets, for Israel here. Do we have any?'
    'What for?'
    'For a headache?'
    'I wouldna thought so. We've TCP and some bandages just in the first-aid box.'
    'That's no good.'
    'It's OK,' said Israel, wishing he'd never brought it up in the first place. 'It's fine.'
    'You sure?'
    'Syrup of figs?' offered the old man.
    'No, thanks. I'll be fine.'
    'What's yon other stuff called?'
    'What stuff?' said Brownie.
    'Collis-Brown. That's it. Bind you rightly.'
    'No. It's really OK,' said Israel.
    'It'd not do you a button o' harm.'
    'He's fine, Granda. Are you sure, Israel?'
    'Yes. I'll be fine. And you've not got any–I really don't want to be a pain or anything–but you've not got any Sellotape, have you, by any chance? Just to fix my glasses?'
    Israel took out the two halves of his spectacles from his pocket.
    'Och dear. What happened there?'
    'Well. It's a—'
    'I'm sure we could fix them up, Granda, couldn't we? Sellotape or soldering iron or something?'
    'Aye. P'rhaps.'
    'And after that we'll maybe have some breakfast, Granda? No chance of a fry?'
    'Aye.'
    'Lovely. And you'll join us for breakfast, Israel, won't you? Room at the trough, Granda?'
    'Aye.'
    'Well, yes, thank you. That's very kind of you.'
    Brownie then showed Israel into a dining room full of dark, miserable, heavy furniture, hung with cobwebs and family pictures, and with a large black Bible on the sideboard, open at the Book of Revelation, and an ancient grey dial telephone next to it. Israel slowly, painfully got changed out of his wet clothes and dried himself off underneath a photograph of men in robes and with drums outside an Orange Hall, looking for all the world as if they were fresh back from a lynching, and then he rang Gloria at home in London.
    The phone rang for a long time before it was answered. Israel imagined the sound of it ringing in Gloria's lovely pale satinwood, soft-furnished, little-bit-of-the-Mediterranean-in-the-heart-of-the-city, inspired-by-the- World of Interiors -but-not-slavish-in-the-pursuit-of-fashion flat near Borough Market. He could almost smell the fresh bagels and orange juice.
    'Hey!' shouted Israel, relieved and excited when Gloria finally picked up.
    '__,' said Gloria indistinctly. It was a bad line.
    'It's me,' explained Israel, his voice echoing round the room like a condemned man's in a prison cell.
    '__.'
    'Israel.'
    '__.'
    'Shit.'
    '__.'
    'Sorry. I forgot what time it was—'
    '__.'
    'I'm sorry.'
    '__.'
    'I said I was sorry.'
    '__.'
    'Sorry.'
    '__.'
    'I know. I tried. There's no coverage here.'
    '__.'
    'Oh. It was unbelievable.'
    '__.'
    'It's some farm in the middle of nowhere.'
    '__.'
    'No, not exactly.'
    '__.'
    'No. It's not a joke. It's terrible. There are chickens in my bed.'
    '__.'
    'Right. Yes. Ha, ha.'
    '__.'
    'No. But that's not the worst of it. You're not going to believe this…'
    '__.'
    'No, not that. I'm serious. There's no library.'
    '__.'
    'It's been shut.'
    '__.'
    'I know they can't.'
    '__.'
    'They want me to drive a mobile library instead.'
    '__.'
    'I'm glad you think it's funny.'
    '__.'
    'Yes, as a replacement.'
    '__.'
    'No, I told her I wouldn't accept it.'
    '__.'
    'It's not an opportunity.'
    '__.'
    'What do you mean? I can hold down a proper job.'
    '__.'
    'Anyway. I'm coming back in a couple of weeks' time.'
    '__.'
    'I can.'
    '__.'
    'No. You don't understand. This isn't a stepping stone. You haven't seen this place.'
    '__.'
    'Oh. You're not?'
    '__.'
    'I see. Why, where are you going?'
    '__.'
    'Right. Well, I'm sure you'll have a great time.'
    '__.'
    'No, of course not.'
    '__.'
    'Yes.'
    '__.'
    'Anyway, what else is happening there?'
    '__.'
    'Oh,