Reversed Forecast

Reversed Forecast
Nicola Barker

The first novel from the brilliantly unconventional Nicola Barker is a tale of gambling, allergies, music and dogs, set in some of London’s less scenic locations.Chance meetings between its cast of eccentric individuals – Ruby the bookie's cashier, violently disturbed (and disturbing) Vincent, Samantha the would-be cabaret singer, wilfully sickly Sylvia and Little Buttercup the never-quite-made-it greyhound – result in the unlikeliest of couples; and there’s always the risk that it could all work out disastrously as characters select each other and try or don’t try to make winning combinations. But, as Ruby, the story’s soft-centred heroine, observes: ‘Losing, that’s the whole point of the gamble.’

NICOLA BARKER

Reversed Forecast

Dedication

For Ben Thompson,

who’s always liked a bit of a flutter

Contents

Cover (#ulink_5f3018e9-0dcf-5d9f-a978-1c60af6997d0)

Title page

Dedication

One

At night she breathed through her mouth, which would have…

Two

When younger, Sylvia had been something of a diversion, a…

Three

‘How long have you been waiting?’

Four

Sam was peering through the kitchen window, trying to see…

Five

Vincent had been staring at his hands with unswerving concentration…

Six

Because he had forced himself to await a precise time…

Seven

Vincent opened his eyes. Black. He turned his head to…

Eight

Ruby unlocked the door and automatically reached out her hand…

Nine

Samantha stayed out all Saturday night and returned to the…

Ten

Ruby awoke to the sound of the telephone ringing. She…

Eleven

There was a painting in the living-room, a portrait, that…

Twelve

Connor woke Sam by kissing her ribs and her belly,…

Thirteen

Sylvia stood by the window. The curtains closed behind her.

Fourteen

What the hell had happened? A day of nagging, an…

Fifteen

What time was it? Four a.m.?

Sixteen

When Brera found Sylvia early on Saturday morning, she was…

About the author

Other books by Nicola Barker

Praise

Copyright

About the Publisher

ONE

At night she breathed through her mouth, which would have been fine, if unerotic, except for the fact that her loose lips and sagging tongue spilled out copious quantities of saliva on to her pillow. Sometimes she woke up in the morning to find that the side of her mouth and chin, as well as portions of her lower cheek, had become damp and chapped from her sloppy expulsions.