10 The Golden Arcade - Bart's email

An email form Bartholomew Crowe to Colin Crowe: 
13/11/17 1058.

Hi Granddad.

First off. I’m not dead, so don’t worry.

Second, I am sorry. I should have told you.

Third, everything you’ve heard is true.

I am standing outside this private school in Ramsgate right now. I’m waiting to meet someone who can help me with my case. I would tell you more, but I don’t think I can and I don’t think I want to right now. 

You said in your mail that you thought I wanted to hurt you. Well congratulations. I did. I think I still do. I reckon I might want to hurt myself too. I definitely want to hurt Bitch Mum of the Year, Julia fucking Crowe or Spence or whatever she’s calling herself now. But I can’t hurt her can I? And Julia gets out of the mess she made, scot-free - and that makes me really, really, really fucking angry. 

And I don’t care, I’m just going to say this, Granddad. I am pissed off at you too. Yeah. I am. Because you knew! You fucking knew! About the whole thing! You must have. And you didn’t stop her, did you? And you didn’t even fucking tell me! You say I’M selfish. Well what about YOU? I bet it made you feel important being in her confidence, and all that, didn’t it? You tell me I’m wrong. I won’t fucking believe you.

Anyway, it turns out you’re not so important after all, doesn’t it, Granddad?

And as for school. I'm sorry, but I don’t care about school either. School is so fake. Turns out that grades don’t mean shit. I mean, even if I pretended I still cared, even if I worked really hard, then what? I go to university, study for another three years, four or five. A graduate scheme? Middle management? A pension? And then what? A car crash like Dad? No thanks. Being honest Granddad, people get As and people get Ds and there's fucking shit still happening, everywhere, to all of them, all of the fucking time! And so you know what? I'm not going to be a passenger any more. I'm getting involved.

I am not playing at being a P.I. I am one. Like Julia said in her letter, I’ve painted myself anew.

Thanks for your email Granddad.

Bart.

Ps. I’m staying at a slummy hotel in Margate. It’s called The Seaview. Can’t remember the exact address. I’ll  text it to you.

Pps. I know where she is by the way . Bitchface. Well not exactly the address but reckon I know the area, maybe the village too. I should pay her a visit. What do you think?