From Jamie Burchell’s Twitter feed:
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Jamie Burchell @jamieburchell
My latest blog is out. ‘My Edgar Allan Poe Moment’. In which I find a live rat tied to my gate. Read it for your daily dose of horror: bit.ly.3jdej4.com
Gugu Motsepeng @Gugz
@jamieburchell OMG! That is terrifying! Who would do such a thing?
Jackson Smith @Smithie621
@jamieburchell Sounds like someone with a sick sense of humour.
The Tenant @squatter
@jamieburchell Takes a special kind of psycho to do something like that.
Bronwyn Jones @redhighheels
@jamieburchell Not to freak you out or anything, but if it were me I’d be scared to go to sleep at night knowing someone like that had been at my gate.
Foully Wooing Won @foullywooingwon
@jamieburchell You have an impressive scream, Jamie. I thought my eardrums were going to crack.
Jamie Burchell @jamieburchell
@foullywooingwon What makes you think I screamed? I might have just let out a ladylike squeak. 😉
Cyril Attlee @inthemiddlecyril
I wish you’d take better care of yourself, Jamie. I worry about you living all alone like that. Couldn’t you stay with one of your sisters for a while?
Jamie Burchell @jamieburchell
@inthemiddlecyril I could Cyril, but then there would be murder done. I love my sisters dearly but I couldn’t live with them. #noways
Ella Burchell @whiteswan
@jamieburchell @inthemiddlecyril I second that tweet. If Jamie tries to move in here, I’ll yell for the cops. 😉
Jamie Burchell @jamieburchell
@whiteswan Haha! Love you too, Ellz. xx
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His ribs hurt from laughing so much. Who knew this would be such fun?
Every time he thought about the look on Jamie’s face when she saw the rat, little snorts of laughter bubbled up inside him. And when he remembered the way she’d screamed – the high, brilliant sound of it splitting the silence – he felt he could almost die with happiness.
Oh, it was wonderful. How had he lived without this for so long? Every part of him felt tingly and alive.
He hugged himself as he imagined Jamie trying to figure out how he’d done it. She’d never guess. Yes, there’d been failures in the beginning. The first four rats had died from an overdose of the sedative he’d put in their food. They’d simply stopped breathing. And the fifth rat had been far too lively. There was still that puncture wound in his thumb from where it had bitten him.
But the sixth rat was the Goldilocks rat – the one that ate just the right amount of sedative. It had started stirring while he was tying it to the gate. And that was another unexpected thrill. He’d had no idea how it would feel to hold a warm, living thing in his hands and know it was in his power. He’d nearly crushed the life out of it in his exuberance. But that would have meant catching another rat, and time was marching on.
Still, he’d had his reward when it came to slitting the belly open. Blood and viscera had spilled all over his fingers. Along with the excitement of knowing someone could come along and catch him at any moment, it was no wonder he’d sweated right through his shirt.
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“Bloody, bloody internet. Why won’t you help me?”
Jamie slammed her hand on the desk. The keyboard jumped and Holmes opened one eye. When he saw it was just Jamie throwing a strop, he sighed and laid his chin back down on his paws. Watson didn’t even stir.
“Tell me what to do!” she commanded.
The cursor blinked at her.
“Okay, fuck off then.”
Jamie got up to pace. The internet was her virtual office and her water cooler. It was the place where all her colleagues lived. If she wanted to know something, she googled it or threw the question out on social media. This system had never failed her before.
But this offer from Magnum Books was different. All Jamie wanted to know was whether she should accept it or turn it down. Google had no clear answers. Facebook and Twitter had plenty of strong opinions, but no clear answers either.
Jamie knew she couldn’t string it out much longer. She had to reply to Magnum Books today. They were already sending her passive-aggressive emails about how she would “lose her place” on their list if she didn’t accept their offer.
“Where’s the harm?” she demanded of Watson, scratching him behind the ears. “Where’s the harm in saying yes? This is what I dreamed about. I put my writing out there and somebody noticed. Somebody thought it was good enough, and made me an offer to publish it. I am living my dream.”
Watson yawned and rolled over so she could rub his tummy. “Okay, you’re thinking about the word length, aren’t you? I will concede that 30,000 words is not very much, but it’s not fair to call it a short story either. Let’s say it’s a novella. A novella is nothing to be ashamed of for your first book.”
Holmes noticed his brother hogging all the attention. He head-butted Jamie’s hand until she started to stroke him instead.
“No, I haven’t forgotten about the rights issue,” she said. “I know I’d never be able to use the story again in any form. And no, I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
That was the stumbling block, she realised. She wasn’t at a point where she could admit that her story would never be anything more than a straight-to-digital novella that might garner twenty-five downloads, if she was lucky.