Epilogue
‘Hey, Mom, look!’ the child shouted. A young boy in a Seattle Mariners baseball shirt and ripped jeans was yanking on his mum’s arm.
‘I know, I know,’ replied the boy’s tired mother. ‘A monkey.’
A slow straggle of tourists, like obedient ants, were winding up and down the Rock of Gibraltar, the late summer sun casting blooms in perfect light against the shadow of the grey peak. Among countless pairs of eyes, those of the seven-year-old saw something unique.
‘But look!’ he persisted, tugging on her arm.
The woman seemed unimpressed by the Rock and keen to leave. ‘Caleb, giddy-up,’ she scolded. ‘If we stop to look at every goddam ape on this place we’ll never get to the stores, and Mom needs to buy aunt Suzie’s cigarettes before we get back on the ship. Now c’mon!’
‘But Mom, looook!’ he whined. ‘That monkey’s got a phone!’
She stopped and followed his gaze. Sure enough, tucked within the thicket on the slope, an inquisitive ape was turning a grey smart-phone over in its hands. ‘Well, I’ll be …’ uttered the woman. The ape squeezed, shook and tested the device between its teeth. ‘Hey, Kyle,’ she said, ‘maybe he’s calling his friend the elephant, makin’ a trunk call, geddit?’
The boy didn’t respond.
She quietly added, ‘You wouldn’t get that. But you’re grandma woulda loved that joke.’
The ape grew bored and tossed the phone, which spun through the air, landing a couple of paces from the boy’s feet. Before his mother could protest he’d leapt into the grass, reached high into the weeds and retrieved it. He held it up, victorious. The woman’s shoulders slumped. ‘Caleb, honey, I –’
‘WOAHHH,’ he cried, examining his prize. ‘This is awesome! D’you know how much these things cost?’
‘Honey, it’s trash.’
‘Can I keep it, Mom? Pleeeease?’
She checked her watch and buckled instantly. ‘Fine. But can we go?’
The boy gave a victory cheer and started closely inspecting the phone. ‘It’s not even cracked. But it’s dead.’
‘I don’t want you to build your hopes up, sweetie. If that’s what I think it is, people don’t just throw away a thousand dollar phone. It’s either lost or busted, and if it’s lost, well –’
‘Awwww, Mom!’ He knew where this was going. ‘Who’m I gonna hand it in to? This coulda been here weeks!’
‘True, I guess. But, it’ll be locked, is all.’ He pondered this as they walked down the path. After a minute of silence between them, she offered some hope. ‘How ’bout this: when we get back to the cruise ship we’ll plug it into my charger, see what happens.’
Acknowledgements
A huge thank you to these wonderful people who helped getting this book into your hands: horror fans Bethan, Edie and Ella Courtie for each reading early drafts and giving great notes. Pete Gardner for his forensic ability to discover plot holes and loose ends and without whose notes I’d have dropped into bigger chasms than Krishna. Jerry Tremain for leading us through the tunnels of the Rock and sharing his amazing knowledge. Russel McLean and Martin Ouvry for their editorial expertise. And finally, thanks to the lovely Gibraltarians for their friendship, hospitality and excitement at this project. Reader, I recommend a visit.
Stay out of the tunnels at night.
Also by Simeon Courtie
The Long and Whining Road
"A great read!" Lynne Truss, BBC Radio 4
London Book Festival Grand Prize Winner 2012
USA Book News winner 2013
Readers' Favourite Gold Award 2013
Shirley You Jest winner 2013
IPPY Award, 'Travel' winner 2013
Simeon Courtie writes books, writes for television and trains people in business how to communicate like human beings. He lives in Oxfordshire with his wife and has three daughters who all share his love of horror.
Hal Stewart produces radio shows, podcasts and watches horror films, sometimes simultaneously. He lives in Buckinghamshire with his wife and for a long time was a much loved resident of Gibraltar. But that was before they read this book.
Contact the Author
[email protected]
Follow the Author
@simcourtie on Twitter
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