Holding the Zero
“That would be the orderly way to do it.’ ‘Yes, start at the beginning,’ Ms Carol Manning said. Ken Willet sat at a table behind her. Among the plates, the empty glass and the cup with dregs of coffee in it, he opened a foolscap notebook. At the top of the page he wrote, ‘WING CO BASIL PEAKE’. Immediately underneath the page heading he scrawled ‘LETTER’, and half-way down the page ‘MOTIVATION’. Ms Manning’s temper had sounded grim at midnight when she’d rung to tell him that her lieu day was pos...tponed; there was no improvement now. ‘It all began at Habbaniyah – I don’t suppose, my dear, you’ve ever heard that name.’ ‘I haven’t, but I’d be grateful if you’d get on with it.’ Willet thought the old man’s eyes glittered in covert amusement. They’d come up the drive to the vicarage, found it locked, shuttered, and a solitary cat had run from their approach. After circling the darkened building, late Georgian or early Victorian, they’d seen the modern bungalow – where a dull light burned – set back amongst trees beyond lawns covered with the winter’s leaves.MoreLess
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