As soon as he saw the name on the inside cover he sensed trouble. His cousin would say it plain, on the family WhatsApp. He’d be the thieving little gobshite they always said he was.
Exhibit A…
He scoured the other pages. Why did he nick her precious word book? “Knickerbockers”?
Exhibit B…
Hang on! Next to Helen’s name were two others: Stuart and Stewart. Same surname, so maybe the same person – who didn’t know how to spell their own name.
Exhibit C…
Mmm, plot thickens. Ownership could just be a distraction, a red herring. Maybe he was innocent after all. Yes, that’s it! Case closed.
I'm originally from Liverpool and worked as a national magazine journalist for more than 30 years before suffering a stroke at age 53. I started blogging as part of a neuro-rehabilitation programme and wrote the very first entries with one finger of my disabled left hand. Later, art became another therapy for me at Headway East London's Submit To Love studios. I blog regularly and volunteer as a teaching assistant, coaching schoolchildren in aspects of journalism.
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