How I Left the National Grid by Guy Mankowski

of a ‘nutter fan’ had come to him. It was almost as if he had been ready for this threat. What was it about the band’s followers that made him think this wouldn’t be beyond them? With the move, Sam hadn’t been able to visit the fans’ forum for a while. Had word of the book spread to them yet?
    Having logged in on the sparsely designed, white and blue site he saw a number of new threads. The titles ‘ROBERT WARDNER, ALIVE AND WELL’ and ‘ROBERT EXHIBITION’ jumped out. But the top one, with 165 messages, was titled ‘NEW ROBERT BOOK DUE’. It stretched to five pages.
    Sam clicked to open it, found the start of the thread. He did not recognize the profile name of ‘Shrinkingviolet’. It came with a picture of a dark-eyed girl in a leopard print scarf, an image small enough to resist proper scrutiny of her persona. She had written:
    There’s a new Robert book coming out next year. Apparently it intends to ‘finally tell Robert’s story’ by interviewing those closest to him, and ‘the man itself’. It’s written by Sam Forbes, who covered the band’s early years.
    It then linked to a page on Mason House’s website where, under ‘Forthcoming Titles’, there was a blurb of the book with an out of date photo of Sam, his hair long and almost matted. He clicked quickly back to see the replies.
    Not sure how it can hear from ‘the man himself’ when we only found out he was even alive a few weeks ago. Unless this Forbes is going to be shoving a microphone in a sick man’s face while he tries to recover.
    The next commenter had a profile picture of The Joker from
Batman.
He had written:
    Doesn’t say Robert’s consented to be interviewed. I’m guessing the author will be less bothered about making sure Robert returns fit and well, and more bothered about $. Scum.
    The first reply to that entry had come from a user called ‘darkcloud’. His temperament and fascinating outlook concisely illustrated by the chosen icon of a balled fist, blood curling between the knuckles:
    This arsehole is going to try and prove Wardner was a killer. We all know he wasn’t, but Forbes will probably hassle the guy ‘til he cracks, then write a book about what a psycho he is. These hacks are fucked up! He won’t care if Wardner ends up dead, or behind bars. When Exit Discs were giving Simon a hard time Wardner smashed up the car of the head exec, while he was in it. Why don’t we scare this sicko off for good too?
    Sam stopped himself from reading the rest of the comments. Not until my home life is under control, he thought. He closed the page.
     
ROBERT WARDNER
    Bonny pushed me into Cunningham’s cramped office. Letters and press reports spilling off every surface. Bank statements.
    ‘So you’re not going to try and kill me today?’ Cunningham asked, slouched in his chair.
    He never looked at you. Not when he was talking to you, not when he was talking about you.
    ‘Robert wants us to get this sorted,’ Bonny said.
    Cunningham looked at the grocer, who scribbled. They’re always writing, lawyers, but you never get to see any of it.
    ‘You’ve not brought your mate along this time then?’ Cunningham said, brushing his shoe with a hand.
    ‘He doesn’t want this to get legal,’ Bonny said.
    ‘Is your baby too spoilt to speak for himself? Old enough to drive his car into mine, but not to deal with the consequences?’
    ‘He’s not a baby, and I’m not his babysitter. If anyone should be keeping a protective eye on him it’s you. He entrusted his work to you. You’re exploiting it.’
    Cunningham shrugged. Looked at me.
    ‘Nothing?’
    ‘Believe me, it’s better that I speak for him. He’s taken down bigger men than you.’ She looked to the generous bulge at his waistline. ‘Believe it or not.’
    He narrowed his eyes.
    ‘You’re just starting in this business, Bonny. Do you really want to go down with this ship? There’ll be an unpleasant smell around you that won’t go away if you do. If