“We’ve pulled out three tonnes of solid waste,” Kev said quietly. “This wasn’t a blockage. This was a geological formation.”
Kev lifted the manhole cover on the pavement. He peered into the dark. He didn’t even flinch at the smell—he just nodded, like a doctor recognising a familiar cancer.
Kev shot Ash a look. “He means it’s a blockage. A big one. It’s on our network. We’ll sort it.”
Arthur kept the letter. He framed it and hung it next to the kitchen sink, right where Margaret used to keep the shopping list.