Wide Open. Nicola Barker

voice was an echo, she wasn’t listening, she was trying to figure out what the slip of paper said. She saw an R and an O, an N and an N.

      For some reason Nathan felt a touch of anxiety. ‘Not aggressively. It was never an aggressive act. Nothing like that.’

      ‘Actually, I’d really like you to see something.’

      Connie put her hand into a leather satchel she’d been carrying and withdrew a bundle of letters. She removed a ribbon that tied them together. She offered them to Nathan.

      ‘What are they?’ He stared at them fearfully, as if they might spit or bite or combust. As though they stank.

      ‘Ronny’s letters.’

      ‘I already said that I have no interest in Ronny’s letters.’

      Yet for an instant Connie appeared not to understand him and leaned forward further, proffering the letters until, as seemed inevitable, they slipped from her grasp and cascaded down on to the carpet, forming a small paper puddle at her feet. She swore and knelt down to gather them up again.

      Nathan felt a curious sensation of déjà vu. He didn’t move. He remained seated. He wanted nothing to do with these papers. They contained more secrets, more facts, and he’d had enough of secrets and facts in the past. A gutful. Connie picked up the letters and then surreptitiously included among their number the tantalizing slip of paper. She glanced over at him as she did so. Nathan seemed in another world. He was unfocused. He didn’t appear to notice. She stuffed the letters back into her bag and then smiled, the very image of angel-innocence.