February 7 It's only special if you win things, says Slot
It was smaller than he remembered but still hollow inside; as a child he and friends had used to sit inside it, plan adventures and tell stories. Now, slightly drunk, it was smaller than his memory, and he was squ ashed in , knees bunched up to his chin. Looking out t hrough the leaves he still had a good view of the biscuit factory, the s un was coming up, his arms full of Jammie Dodgers and Garibaldis' . Simon Slot had executed the plan exactly as planned, right down to the pho ne call distraction and crushed can door jam. His lips were sugary, but a feeling deep down began to twist into nausea , the cramped conditions not helping his now delicate stomach. To avoid being sick into his lap he threw himself sideways out of the bush landing with a thud onto the gravel drive behind a grey BMW. Checking he was still unobserved and gathering up the last of the treasure haul, Slot raised himself to his feet and set off in the direction of ...