The Hotel by Louise Mumford EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Louise Mumford
- Language: English
- Genre: Psychological Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Bex Harrison stood on top of her world and considered shooting the man
below her.
Not anywhere vital, of course. No, just a kneecap, or a hand or
something, though she wasn’t convinced that her aim was good enough to
not hit an artery by mistake. She sighed. It didn’t matter: the gun was fake
anyway, bought as a deterrent rather than a weapon. Lowering her
binoculars, she wrapped her blanket tighter around her middle and sipped
her coffee.
There had been two reasons she had decided to live in this London house
all those years ago: the roof and the wall. Built in Georgian times, the place
had fancy crenellations at the top like a castle, and a lovely flat roof, perfect
for sitting on, hidden from view to spy on the street below.
After all, they had tried to spy on her in that first year after the film came
out.
But their spying hadn’t been very successful due to that wall. Bex had
thought long and hard about it and had decided that the way to get total
privacy was to live right in the middle of a big city. She realised that
seemed counterintuitive. Countryside, a secluded valley, the top of a big hill
– those were the places people thought would guarantee privacy. But people
were wrong. Those places were too easily breached, all that space where
intruders could hide and then, when they pounced, no one around to hear
you scream.
Bex was literally boxed in. First by the massive stone wall that almost
entirely circled her house and second by all the other houses around her,
each garden, each wall of their own backing onto hers. No sneaky crawl
spaces. Lots of people to hear the screaming.
Because, if the events nearly ten years ago had taught Bex anything, it
was that the screaming was never far away.
She raised the rifle and took aim. The man below bothered her. His face
was as badly creased as his trousers and he wore one of those utility vests
with lots of pockets. His camera was slung around his neck as he munched
his way through a never-ending supply of snacks that he conjured out of
those pockets, like a shabby magician. Photographers had given up waiting
outside her house years ago and she was none too pleased to see one come
creeping back.
Through the gun’s sight she chose the kneecap she would aim for,
angling the barrel through the gaps in the stone balustrade.
An overfed pigeon she called Bob eyed her from his perch nearby, seed
scattered around him, probably too fat to fly off. She wasn’t even sure that
was the original Bob, if she was honest, but it didn’t matter – she enjoyed
their intellectual exchanges over mixed nuts.
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