Sunday, February 10, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 137.04


Gillian shrugged. “There are worse places to go when you die.”

“Such as?”

“Swindon. Have you ever been to Swindon? It closed sometime in the seventies and the locals haven't realised it yet. They keep building hotels and car parks as if that's what brings people in but they haven't realised it's like grafting a new skin on an apple when the core has died and rotted, leaving just the possibility of what might have been.”

Harold looked at her carefully. “I don't think I've ever been to Swindon. Where is it, exactly?”

“Count yourself lucky. It's at the tip of Wiltshire, about sixty miles from here. You have to think something is suspect when you open the Swindon Tourist Board website and it says 'Come to Swindon. The gateway to somewhere else that's actually rather nice'.”

Harold laughed. “I don't believe you.”

Jasfoup had already retrieved his phone and was looking it up. “She's right, actually.” He showed Harold the webpage where, instead of listing pictures and points of interest in Swindon, it showed pictures of Oxford, Avebury, Stonehenge and Glastonbury as examples of 'nice places to travel to'.

Harold gave it a disdainful look. “I notice there's no mention of historic Laverstone.”

“There's a small paragraph here.” Jasfoup pointed to a typeface so small Harold would need a microscope to read it. “Also Laverstone. Historic market town with the highest murder rate outside of Manchester.” He smiled. “There. That's encouraging, isn't it? 'Historic market town'.”

Gillian sniffed. “You should get your hippy friend to do murder tours.”

2 comments:

Caroline M Davies said...

Alas poor Swindon - it was evidently twinned with Slough at some point.

Rachel Green said...

I kid you not about the website!

Thanks for reading :)