Eve White: Literary Agent

from WHAT'S FOR DINNER, MR GUM?

The two bad men tiptoed along the canal, the dirty water lapping softly in the breeze. Many years ago the canal had been a glorious waterway, transporting over 90% of all England’s emails down to Cornwall. But in these modern times all the email transportation was done over the Internet and no one used the canal anymore, except to dump shopping trolleys in. The water was brown and useless. If you drank it you would die and I should know because I drank it once and I died. But now a new smell came to Billy William’s long nose above the stench of the stagnant brown water. It was the smell of old cooking oil and chip fat. And suddenly a cold chill passed over Billy William as he realised where Mr Gum was headed. ‘No,’ whispered Billy. ‘It couldn’t be… It’s too upsettin’ to even imagine…’