Bricking It Read Free Page A

can’t stand the little buggers.’
    ‘Loads. Webs everywhere – but there’s not a lot else to see. Just some old wooden boxes full of shredded paper, a few bits of old cloth, a— What the hell is that? ’
    ‘What is it? What have you seen? Is it a corpse ?’
    ‘No corpses, just what looks like . . . well, I don’t really know. It looks like some kind of harness from here.’ Danny cranes his head a bit further into the loft. ‘Yep. Must be for a horse or something. I think it’s called a tackle . . . though I could be completely wrong. It’s hanging up on one of the joists.’
    I am incredulous. ‘A horse’s harness? You mean like the halter and reins? Why the hell would Grandma have that?’
    ‘No idea. We are in the country. Maybe she owned one . . . I’m going to have a closer look.’
    With that Danny puts his arms up through the hatch, sets himself and pushes off from the bannister and up into the loft in one swift movement.
    For a few moments all I can hear is him clumping around. ‘Can you see anything else?’ I ask.
    ‘Not much,’ Danny replies, and I hear the clinking of metal as he picks up the harness. ‘It’s really odd. I don’t see how a horse’s head would fit over it. The leather is rotten through, and the metalwork is rusty. Must’ve been up here for ages. I wonder if— AAAARRRGGHH ! ’
    There is a terrible cracking sound of rotten wood giving way, followed a loud, high shriek.
    ‘Danny!’ I shout in dismay, and watch in absolute horror as my brother appears from above in the bedroom opposite where I’m standing, surrounded by a cloud of dust, plaster and wood.

DANNY
    April
    £0.00 spent
    I t takes a couple of seconds for me to realise that I’m not dead.
    I see Hayley come running into the bedroom, where I’m now laying spread-eagled on the dirty yellow carpet.
    I replay the last few moments of my life – and none of them are good. One minute I’m looking at something you’d sling over the nearest mare, the next I’m heading south at a rapid pace thanks to some rotted loft boards, with a load of debris flying around me.
    Luckily for my continued existence, I don’t fall through the ceiling instantly. The breaking ceiling plaster slows my progress. I just about have enough time to prepare myself for the shock of landing on the floor below, remembering to bend my legs on impact. This doesn’t stop jarring pain from shooting up both my legs as I hit the bedroom floor. I’m saved a broken back when the carpet and floorboards give under my weight slightly, before springing back again. Thank Christ the wood isn’t as rotten as in the loft I’ve just broken my way through.
    I have never viewed myself as a lucky man in life, but after this I might have to re-evaluate.
    ‘Danny! Danny!’ Hayley screams at the top of her lungs. Always with the melodrama, my sister. ‘Are you alright?!’ She also has the knack of asking stupid questions during a crisis.
    ‘Oh yeah,’ I reply, coughing up plaster and dust. ‘I’m great. There’s nothing like falling through a loft to really help your cardio programme.’
    Hayley bends down and takes one of my hands tightly in hers. ‘Is anything broken?’
    ‘My hand will be if you keep gripping it that hard.’
    ‘Danny!’
    ‘No! Nothing is broken. I didn’t fall too fast, so I had time to prepare myself for the shock. All those years of jumping off garage roofs as a kid have finally paid off.’ I roll over with a groan and slowly get to my feet. I keep expecting to feel sharp and hideous pain rocket through my body as I do so, but am amazed to bring myself upright with only the merest twinge. ‘Bloody hell. I think I’m okay.’
    ‘Really?’ my sister exclaims in a disbelieving voice.
    ‘Yep, everything seems to be where it should be,’ I tell her, brushing the dust off my jeans.
    ‘You lucky bastard,’ she mutters.
    ‘Oh no . . . wait. It looks like I have a splinter.’ I hold my left hand out to her,