A Journal of Sin Read Online Free PDF

Sophie seemed to have inherited whatever gung-ho gene caused Sarah to take up policing.
    ‘Hello everyone. Hello. I think you all know me well enough by now,’ said a man in his seventies from a mobile wooden podium at the front of the hall. He spoke with dominance and the assumption they would listen. The crowd quietened down as he began to speak and the little girl turned around and sat down properly on her chair, something Sarah would have told Sophie to do the moment she’d begun kneeling. She heard his booming voice clearly all the way at the back. This must be Tom, she thought. ‘I’ve called this meeting today to see how best we can help each other get through this situation. It’s been terrible for us all, but I know some are worse off than others.’ An old lady with a purple shawl shuffled up to the podium, topped up his water and shuffled back to her seat in the front row. ‘I have some updates. Part of the town in the north is blocked off completely. The food stock’s fine for now, but it’s hard to say how long it’ll last. Make sure you’re rationing what you have. There is some good news. From tuning in my trusty old wind-up radio, I’ve heard mobile phone masts will be up and running shortly, so we’ll be able to communicate properly soon. So much for modern technology; it’s the old-fashioned things that come through in a crisis.’ He tightened a non-existent necktie in a smug gesture and the crowd laughed.
    ‘What about the roads out of town?’ shouted a male voice.
    ‘I’ve been to the outskirts and the situation is dire. The roads are flooded, so it’ll be a while till we’re able to get regular deliveries through, or in fact leave ourselves. I for one know it’ll be nice to have a break from each other.’ The crowd laughed along with him.
    ‘My uncle sprained his ankle during the storm. Are we able to get him any medical help?’
    ‘Is there a doctor in the house?’ Tom said, raising another chuckle from his audience.
    ‘As it happens, yes.’ A man in the fourth row stood up. A woman behind Sarah mentioned that it was Dr Sam Forrester, the local GP.
    ‘Well, would you look at that,’ said Tom. ‘That’s what happens when the community comes together. If you report any and all injuries to me or Sam, once the mobile masts are back up, I’ll call the emergency services and get us what we need somehow. I’m not sure how I’ll do it, but I’ll get it done.’ Sarah was amazed at how he held their attention and was able to answer their questions so smoothly. She assumed he’d had some public speaking experience somewhere in his career to be able to take charge of a situation like this without any given authority. Public speaking wasn’t one of her strongpoints. The idea of performing in any way gave her the shivers, and after briefly joining the debating society at university to try and conquer her fears, she had hoped she wouldn’t have to stand in front of a crowd again. The whole thing made her feel a little too much on show.
    ‘The government’s just leaving us here. They don’t care about anything outside of London. People’s homes are flooded; my gran can’t leave the first floor of her house for all the water, and what’s being done? Nothing. And when it’s all over, do you think the insurance will pay out? They’ll find some way round it. We’re fucked,’ said a fat man in a tweed jacket. The crowd cheered, some patted him on the back. It wasn’t a question, but an expression of a sentiment they all felt. For most, the feeling of a shared misery had garnered a strong sense of community, whereas for others, it was a harbinger of despair and a sign those in power had little interest in their welfare or safety.
    ‘There’s no arguing with what you’re saying. It certainly seems that they’re slow to react to anything north of the M25. But, this is an unprecedented storm, the scale of which has been absolutely devastating. Now, no one can say they