99 Reasons Why

By Caroline Smailes

‘THE SUN’ EBOOK OF THE WEEK

From the brilliant author of ‘Black Boxes’ comes a gritty and heartfelt novella with a twist: 99 Reasons, 11 endings, your pick.

Kate isn’t like other 22 year olds. She’s got a job to do for her Uncle Phil. Each day, she spies on The Kevin Keegan Day Nursery across the road from her bedroom window, writing down all of the comings and goings in her notebooks. That’s how she spots her little girl in the pink coat. She likes her, and it isn’t long before Kate asks her mam to get her for her. Plans are made.

But then, quite unexpectedly, Kate flashes her breasts out her bedroom window at the little girl’s father. And that's the reason that nothing will ever be the same again…

There is no one ending to Kate’s story, instead there are eleven possible outcomes, 9 of which you can navigate through your e-reading device. Each is different, and each exposes a little more of Kate’s utterly wonky world.

Visit www.carolinesmailes.co.uk to find out how to uncover the final 2 reasons why.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins UK
• Release date: Mar 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9780007362172

Caroline Smailes

CAROLINE SMAILES lives in the North West of England with her husband and three children. The Drowning of Arthur Braxton is her fifth novel. She can be found at www.carolinesmailes.co.uk and twitter.com/Caroline_S

Book preview

ONE

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1: the reason why me mam phones me Uncle Phil

I was sitting at me bedroom window, like I always do on a Thursday. I was watching them little kiddies being dumped at that nursery ’cross the road.

Me mam comes in me bedroom.

‘What you doing, Kate?’ me mam says to me.

‘Watching that little girl in the pink coat, Mam,’ I says to me mam.

‘Shouldn’t be allowed,’ me mam says to me.

‘What, Mam?’ I says to me mam.

‘Kiddies being dumped at that kiddie prison all day,’ me mam says to me.

‘I like that little girl,’ I says to me mam, pointing at the little girl sitting on the picnic table in the nursery’s yard.

‘I’d like her to live in our house,’ I says to me mam.

Me mam nods. She smiles.

Then me mam leaves me bedroom and I reckon she goes to phone me Uncle Phil.

2: the reason why I ain’t allowed to use me Uncle Phil’s video camera

From me bedroom window I can see cross the road, over the crayon-shaped fence panels and right into the yard of The Kevin Keegan Day Nursery. It opens at 7.30 a.m. and closes at 6 p.m., but not on Saturdays or Sundays ’cause them days are family days.

I know all this clever information ’cause that’s where I work.

What I mean is that I work from me bedroom window, during the hours that the nursery’s open. I work by keeping record of every kiddie and every grown-up that goes in and comes out, of whenever one of the staff nips out for a ciggie break, of any deliveries and of any strange-looking blokes lurking ’bout. And, as extra, I use me binoculars and I watch outside the nursery, ’cause there’s a sign that tells people there’s room for only one car to park for ten minutes, so I keep record of any cars that park there longer. And I keep record of all them cars that park on the double yellows opposite me house. I had to stop taking photos and using me Uncle Phil’s special video camera ’cause the nursery called the police, and me mam and me Uncle Phil had to sort it all out. So now I write everything down in me notebooks. It’s a lush job and I’ve been doing it for just over six years now.

Course, I’m claiming money from the government, me mam and me Uncle Phil says it’s OK ’cause it’s not like a get proper paid with proper wage slips for watching the kiddies, even though I’m providing a service and I reckon the nursery owner should be paying me the going rate for a private investigator. And I reckon I’d be better at me job if they’d let me use me Uncle Phil’s video camera. Me mam was scared I’d get put in jail, so she got me some fancy binoculars off eBay, ones that let me focus in really close and make sure that everything I see’s accurate. I’d hate to make mistakes. I take me work really seriously; it’s like right important to me. I mean, I even get me mam to cover for me when I go for a wee, and I never poo during working hours, and I even make meself a packed lunch before me working day begins.

Mam says I’m dedicated, Dad says I’m a nutter, Uncle Phil’s too busy being a leader to say anything.

3: the reason why everything bad that ever happens is always me Uncle Phil’s fault

Course everyone round here has their own feelings ’bout the leaders of the Estate. Mainly people are split to supporting me Uncle Phil or Mike Douglas. Mike Douglas has been inside a few times, mainly for beating up old people and stealing their life savings, but he stopped doing that back in 1997.

Back then, well before then, there used to be a block of eight flats opposite our house, but it was knocked down and some rich bloke built a bungalow instead. But his missus was a bit of a slapper and he ended up stabbing her something like eighty-eight times. Me mam says that the stabbing was all me Uncle Phil’s fault. I mean, this was ages ago, like when I was a baby. The bloke was put inside and the bungalow had its windows covered and a metal fence put round it. That’s why all us kiddies from the Estate grew up knowing that if we was bad, then that Bungalow Bastard would come and stab us with a knife. I used to watch out me bedroom window for the Bungalow Bastard and I’d wet me knickers out of fear.

No one bothered with the bungalow for ages. Then one day one of them for sale signs went up. I mean I reckon it went up in the night ’cause it wasn’t there when I came home from school but it was there when me mam walked me out the door the next morning. Then Mike Douglas bought the bungalow for pennies at an auction and The Kevin Keegan Day Nursery for all the kiddies on the Estate opened in 1997.

Nowadays the nursery’s still a bungalow but it’s surrounded by a wall and on top of the wall is a fence. Each panel of the fence has been made to look like it’s a coloured pencil. There’s a pattern, so it’s a red pencil, then a blue one, then yellow, then red again, then blue, then yellow. I think it’s really clever and pretty. Course they had to put broken glass on the tip of every coloured lead ’cause some of the lads from the Estate was climbing into the yard and shooting up in the Wendy House. Mam says that’s all me Uncle Phil’s fault too.

4: the reason why I stuck me fingers down me throat

‘Your mate Lisa-Marie’s got herself one of them eating disorders,’ Mam’s saying as she’s opening me purple curtains.

It’s Sunday morning, me only proper lie-in day and me mam’s letting in all the light.

‘You what? What’s the time?’ I says to me mam.

She’s sitting on me purple chair, looking out me window and fiddling with me notebooks on me windowsill.

I’m thinking, leave me notebooks alone.

‘Lisa-Marie, Maggie’s young ’un. She’s got herself that disease your Princess Diana had. Maggie’s right proud of the lass,’ me mam says to me.

‘I tried that once,’ I says to me mam.

‘You what?’ me mam says to me, moving her arms so that they cross tight under her boobs.

‘Wanted to see what it felt like,’ I says to me mam. ‘Bent over the toilet and stuck me fingers down me throat.’

‘What happened?’ me mam says to me.

‘I threw up me chips and egg all over me socks,’ I says to me mam.

‘You’re bloody useless at everything,’ me mam says, as she stands up, puts her hands in the front pocket of her tabard and walks out me bedroom.

I can hear me mam laughing.

5: the reason why Lisa-Marie’s me only proper mate

Lisa-Marie’s me mate, I mean, she’s me only mate. She didn’t go to me first school ’cause she never lived on me Estate back then. She moved into the house that’s four down from us, I reckon ’bout a couple of years ago now. Her and her mam and her granddad moved in the middle of the night ’cause her dad was a nutter and they had to run away from their old house before he killed them all. Me mam invited Lisa-Marie and Maggie round for a cup of tea and a coconut stack the day after they moved here and me and Lisa-Marie became best mates like straight away. Lisa-Marie and her mam and her granddad changed their names and everything, but she still let’s me and me mam call her by her proper name, Lisa-Marie.

Lisa-Marie’s a big lass. I mean, she’s not fat like Fat Ginger Katherine who works in The Kevin Keegan Day Nursery, more that she’s over six foot tall and her legs are a bit like tree trunks. Me mam reckons they’ve run away from South America, but I don’t reckon their crappy Corsa would have made it all that way. And anyway, Lisa-Marie told me that she’s from Liverpool, so me mam clearly knows nowt.

Every Tuesday, Lisa-Marie calls here on the way home from college. She used to be a trainee hairdresser, but she doesn’t do that no more. She’s right clever and now she’s learning how to be a beauty therapist. Lisa-Marie’s the reason why me eyebrows are plucked and me fanny’s got a fancy hairstyle called The Venetian Canal.

Lisa-Marie’s the only one I’ve told ’bout me mam being Princess Diana, I mean me real mam of course. I’ve told her even though if me mam ever finds out I’ve told anyone she’ll tell me Uncle Phil to make me disappear. But it’s like I can tell Lisa-Marie anything and she’ll never judge or tell any other bugger. She’s like me best friend ever.

Course, I knew ’bout her having bulimia before me mam told me. Me and Lisa-Marie’s been talking ’bout it for months now and I’ve even got meself a plan. I mean, if there’s one thing that’s making me life even better, it’s the thought of me catching that bulimia disease and everyone realising just how much the same me and me mam are. I mean me real mam, I mean me Princess Diana.

I mean, I’m sure I read some place like Heat magazine that a person can catch themselves that bulimia disease if they can get a person with it to smile at them through a window. I think it’s ’cause a person with that bulimia doesn’t smile much ’cause their teeth are all rotten from all that puking they do. There’s something like science ’bout how when their smile hits the glass on the window, it’s something like it causes the bulimia to jump into the person behind the window. It’s complicated science but it somehow makes proper sense. Cause, well, the thing is, I want to be cool and glam and be able to tell everyone I’ve got an eating disorder, but I can’t do the sick thing with me fingers in me mouth.

I want to be like Lisa-Marie and like me Princess Diana. Lisa-Marie says that she likes that I want to be like her. I think that Lisa-Marie is the most amazing person in the world. I proper want to be like her. All I’ve gotta do is catch meself that disease by getting Lisa-Marie to smile at me through me window, then I reckon it’ll make me blood remember and I’ll be an expert at throwing up me egg and chips. Lisa-Marie says she hardly even has to use her fingers now; she can just bend over the toilet and breathe funny to make herself throw up.

I told Lisa-Marie me plan and she laughed her skin off.

6: the reason why I’m finding it hard to catch meself that bulimia

So later, when I see Lisa-Marie shuffling down the street with her mam, I’m like bang-bang, friggin’ bang-bang. I’m like bang-bang-banging on me window and me whole window’s quivering.

‘What you banging at?’ me mam shouts up to me.

I can see Lisa-Marie talking to Maggie her mam, but neither of them’s looking up at me.

‘I’m trying to get Lisa-Marie to smile at me,’ I shouts down to me mam.

‘Stop your fuckin’ banging!’ me dad shouts up to me. ‘You’ll break the fuckin’ window.’

Bang-bang, bang-bang.

I mean, it’s not like I’m invisible. I’m leaning me whole body on me window and I’m banging, but Maggie and Lisa-Marie don’t seem to be able to hear me.

Then me mam comes in me bedroom.

‘What you doing, Princess?’ me mam says.

Me purple chair is lying on me purple carpet and me notebooks are all messed up.

‘Banging on me window,’ I says to me mam.

‘Why, Princess?’ me mam says to me.

I’m thinking, ’cause I wants to catch meself bulimia.

But the words don’t want to come out. And I’m a lot pissed off that Lisa-Marie didn’t do me plan. I mean, it’s like she wants to keep her bulimia all for herself, but I can’t tell me mam that. So instead I turn to me mam

Reviews for 99 Reasons Why

[beentsy_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Honestly, I don't think I can actually write a review of this one. It's a truly odd story about an extremely bizarre family.