The Walking Dead

'In fact, where I am, I'm hearing of some very professional people and they screwed up clearing out a jewellery shop. They had guns and I don't — so robbing a bank isn't exactly a starter. And since we never have a sane, civilized conversation—'

'That would be a start. I'm stuck here. I've that drawer shouting at me each time I pass it. I daren't open it. I suppose you want me to go to Mum and Dad, tell them how useless you are and beg on my bended knee for them to go and draw what we owe from their building society. Well, I won't. Will not.'

'I'm a bit short, my love,' Jools liked irony, big doses of it, 'of ideas.'

'It's all right for you, sitting in that bloody court. Precious little or nothing to think about. I'm here when they come through the letterbox.'

'I know exactly what I'll do.'

He took the top envelope, contents printed in red, from the gas company.

He held it up in what he thought was a dramatic gesture.

He ripped it into four pieces and dropped them on to the table.

Then the electricity, then the water. He heard the squeal of shock from the sink. Then the builder's note. He went to work at his task with intense enthusiasm, as if it was sex with Hannah and the squeals hers. Then the credit-card notices of- accrued interest. Then the bank's letters that referred him to amounts outstanding and the likely punitive outcome of that situation. The torn pages flaked on to the table.

Drama complete. Curtain down on theatricals. Methodically Jools picked up each piece of paper from the letters, statements and envelopes and clasped them in both hands. He went to the front door, opened it awkwardly, because he had no intention of leaving a paper trail behind him, and strode down the few feet of the front path.

At the wheelie-bin, he used his elbow to lift the lid and, into its mouth, he dropped what he thought of as junk mail, then let the lid fall back. He remembered what he had read, graffiti, on a London wall long ago: There is no problem so big or complicated that it can't be run away from.

He left Babs in the kitchen and Kathy with her music, and went to bed. His daughter was at the back of the house, deafened, his wife was in the kitchen, crying, and he would soon be asleep and past caring. End of problem. So simple.

'Go for it,' the voice murmured. 'Get it before they bring the kitchen stuff out — don't want it all covered with bloody food.'

The door of a darkened car opened quietly. Soft shoes scurried forward. A shadow skirted the light pool from a street-lamp. A wheelie-bin's lid was lifted and a hand groped down. Paper rustled as it was snatched up. The lid was eased back into place. A car door was opened and torn sheets of printed paper and pieces of brown envelope were dropped into a plastic bag. A vehicle drove out of the street. A pencil torch shone into the bag.

'Benny'll be well chuffed with this lot. Looks like we got his Crown Jewels.'