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‘…Now that my ladder’s gone, I must lie down where all the ladders start In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.’ From ‘The Circus Animals’ Desertion’, W.B. Yeats 
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...'Adie Dufoy?’ The man says the name wrong of course.
Adie holds out his hand for the envelope.
'They said I should get something off of you.’ The man’s voice whines.
‘They said wrong. Go away.’ Adie shifts his body and the man moves back.
‘I got to get a receipt.’
‘I don’t give receipts.’ Adie stands. He’s not very tall, but the man backs off. ‘They used to use quality,’ Adie says as he takes the envelope and watches as the man turns and beetles off down the tube, his shoulders hunched and frightened.
...It’s a cellar all right, but not like the one he knows. This one looks as if it might stretch for about a mile. Like all cellars, it’s got that musty stink, and when he feels the brick wall behind him with his tied hands, it’s damp and the filler between the bricks is coarse and crumbling ... The time he’d been left the longest, without food, without water, with his mouth gagged, was three days. The next time Frankie had threatened to put him down there was when he’d killed him.
... This time he won’t be able to keep going. She raises the metal rod above her head and swings it so that it crashes with full force against his face. She sees the blood spray from his nose as he staggers back ...
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These are extracts from Deb’s current work in progress, ‘Bone Shop’ a thriller novel, set in Cornwall and Birmingham.
Deb was born and brought up in London. She now lives in the Worcestershire countryside and has been teaching Creative Writing at the University of Birmingham since 2000. She is married and has two grown up sons.
Deborah Catesby
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