Papercuts 5: The Good, The Bad and the Quite Ugly

By Colin Bateman

Through World Wars and civil strife, the Bangor Express has never missed an issue, but now it's limping towards an inevitable doom – until London-based journalist Rob Cullen arrives on the scene. Lured back to Northern Ireland for the first time in 20 years by the demise of his one-time mentor, the Guardian reporter can't resist fighting for the paper where he first made his name. After all, it has been a long time since Rob had a real story to get his teeth in to... and with the Bangor Express, that's just what he's going to get.

It's just another day in the office at the Bangor Express: struggling to make ends meet and arguing over who buys the buns, when local nutter 'Magic' Martin turns up with the breaking news that he's found a human skull on a piece of land at the end of the bay. This is just the opportunity young reporter Michael has been waiting for to cut his teeth, so he sets off with Martin to investigate. After a close shave with a gun-wielding farmer, Martin unearths a 200-year old graveyard. Perhaps Martin was onto something and there is a story to be told after all...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Feb 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781784973742

Colin Bateman

Colin Bateman is an author, screenwriter and playwright. He is the creator of the BBC series Murphy's Law and was listed by the Daily Telegraph as one of the Top 50 crime writers of all time. Find out more at colinbateman.com

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About Papercuts #5: The Good, the Bad and the Quite Ugly

About Colin Bateman

Reviews

About Papercuts

Also by Colin Bateman

Table of Contents

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To read this book as the author intended – and for a fuller reading experience – turn on ‘original’ or ‘publisher’s font’ in your text display options.

For Matthew and Isaac

Johnny Cash shot a man in Reno,

just to watch him die.

Rob Cullen bought curly kale in Tesco’s,

just to watch it wither.

CONTENTS

Cover

Welcome Page

Display Options Notice

Dedication

Epigraph

The Good, the Bad and the Quite Ugly

About Papercuts #5: The Good, the Bad and the Quite Ugly

Reviews

About Colin Bateman

About Papercuts

Also by Colin Bateman

An Invitation from the Publisher

Copyright

Rob’s crappy smart car car wouldn’t start on Monday morning, so he gave Alix a call asking for a lift to work. She thought this was odd because Rob lived pretty close to the office and kept making noises about getting fitter, so she asked him why he didn’t walk, or jog, even. He said it was raining outside. She said, ‘Right enough, wouldn’t want you to dissolve.’ He said, ‘If it’s a problem, it’s fine.’ She said, ‘No, it’s not a problem.’ He said, ‘If you’re not ready...’ She said ‘Always ready’ and promised to be there in ten minutes, which would take some doing as she was half-way through a bowl of oats, her hair was up in a towel and she had the toenails of one foot freshly painted.

But she made it.

Of course she made it.

And a little spray of perfume before she left the car, just in case the one she’d applied before leaving the house had dissipated. She was wearing open-toed sandals, which she was already regretting. Not because it was still raining, but because she’d decided to go with the one-set-of-toes-painted look, which, in the fogginess of the new day she’d thought she might get away with, might almost pass as cool or anarchic, but which in the damp light of a street-lit morning just looked sloppy. She reasoned that Rob wouldn’t notice, and put the nail varnish in her bag, planning to finish the job in the toilets once she got into the office. She was more preoccupied on the journey over with exactly why Rob had phoned her when, besides the fact that he could walk, if he was determined to get a lift, geographically both Michael and Pete lived closer to him. She thought maybe it was because he wanted to fill her in on why his wife, Rebecca of the fat arse, had turned up like that, or he needed a shoulder to cry on because she was probably the only woman – or man, for that matter – in the entire city he felt he could open up to. He was her boss, yes, but they were already pretty good friends. And there was that suggestion of a spark between them – hadn’t they almost kissed outside that art gallery a few weeks back? Hadn’t they felt awkward in the wake of it? That wasn’t just because they’d been very drunk. Or, only partially. She didn’t know how she felt about him. He was the boss. He was older. He wasn’t particularly attractive, wasn’t in any kind of shape – she had a sudden flashback to the netball coach – great snogger, six-pack to die for, vain as a supermodel, a three-times-a-night man, as sleek and reliable as a Ferrari, but you really don’t want to be riding around in a Ferrari all the time, not when you’ve shopping to do in Sainsbury’s, it was just impractical; Rob was much more like a... like a... she didn’t really know her cars, but like a... Land Rover, sturdy and dependable, maybe a little rusty; if you chipped away at it you might get it through the MOT, but irrespective of whether it was legal it would keep going for ever and still be sturdy enough to land on the beaches of Normandy to help rid Europe of Nazis. She was spraying perfume, smiling at the Nazis, final re-touch for her hair, while also thinking what a really, really bad idea it would be to even think about pursuing a relationship with Rob Cullen.

Alix parked beside Rob’s ridiculous little car. She expected that he’d be sitting in it, waiting for her. But no. She pumped her horn. Nothing. She sent him a text. He immediately texted back saying he’d be down in five minutes, or you can come up and wait. Good sense told her to stay where she was, but purely out of journalistic curiosity she decided to take him up on his offer. She wanted to not only see where he lived, but how he lived. He was neat and efficient in his work, but he also always looked