Kate Murray tagged me for this #Lucky 7s thing, so here are a couple of paragraphs from the paper version of BATDIG, on page 77, starting 7 lines down:
“Certainly do! Or rather, my ‘phone does, thanks to the sat nav app. We just stroll up Carter’s Lane and left into Dean’s Court. It isn’t a big road so we should be done and dusted in ten minutes. Then the rest of the day can be devoted to pure, hedonistic, selfish us-time!”
Liz just moved into party gear, as if she was six again and it was her birthday. She could do whatever she wanted and right at this moment she wanted to forget about everything, the package, Cath, Roger, escorting, the whole caboodle and live. She whooped like a drunken student on a hen night. Ella responded with a cry of “Woah!”
Ahead of them they saw a man, smart coat on, who turned to see what the noise was about. Seeing Liz and Ella was enough to make him decide to cross to the more civilised side of the street. Liz didn’t blame him. He seemed to be carrying a book, probably an organiser of some sort. He looked at it then crossed back and disappeared up a side road.
“You can run but you can’t hide!” yelled Liz, convincingly pretending to be a witch out of Macbeth.
They followed the man into the side street. The sign to their left declared ‘Dean’s Court EC4’. This was the place alright.
“Come on El, let’s sort this out! What is the address on the wrapper? What’s the name, Sip Me or something?”
“Er, sigh pee or sigh pay, don’t know.” Ella spelt the name out. “Says it’s on the first floor of number eight.”
“It must be above one of these places then.”
Liz and Ella set off towards the man, who was standing, silhouetted against the London sky at the other end of the road. The street was narrow and the buildings either side cut out a good third of the light. There didn’t seem to be any individual shops let alone doors. There was a back entrance into a building that must have had its front entrance on Carter’s lane. They must have looked like demented tourists, examining every notice they could see, trying to read every sign engraved above lintels. They finally reached the man with Liz very decidedly an unhappy witch.
“It doesn’t bloody exist! Sod it!” Liz really was annoyed.
The man, who had been facing St Paul’s now turned and faced the two of them.
“No, it doesn’t,” he said sounding slightly annoyed. “I see you have been scammed too.”
Liz stared at the man’s hand; she could see Ella staring too. He held a familiar bright yellow plastic package.
Hope you enjoyed this brief excerpt!