Page 144 of The Silent Appeal

There’s the question of insurance.

12:10 p.m. Kevin wrote:

It’s all in hand.

12:11 p.m. Joel wrote:

Nasty business. Nasty.

12:12 p.m. Kevin wrote:

Yes, but I’ve heard she’ll make a full recovery, maybe even for play week.

12:13 p.m. Joel wrote:

She’s dead, Kevin.

12:13 p.m. Kevin wrote:

What? Issy told SJ she’ll be fine.

12:14 p.m. Joel wrote:

I’ve examined her myself. There’s no hope.

12:15 p.m. Joel wrote:

That many breaks are not survivable.

12:16 p.m. Joel wrote:

She was a bright one and she shone for more than twenty years, but now she’s gone.

12:16 p.m. Kevin wrote:

You fucking cad! You’re talking about the light!

12:18 p.m. Joel wrote:

Had you going there! The bulb’s had it, the lenses are smashed, and the casing is mangled. Kaput!

12:20 p.m. Joel wrote:

Will our coffers stretch to a new ellipsoidal reflector?

12:21 p.m. Kevin wrote:

I hope so, Joel, but let my heart rate resemble something close to normal before I tell John.

To: Kevin MacDonald

From: Joyce Walford

Date: April 27, 2025

Subject: Food

I knew it would end in disaster. Those big heavy lights dangling above the stage are an accident waiting to happen. Lucky no one was killed on play night. I asked my Barry how it fell down and he said “gravity,” the big plonker! If only he hadn’t slept through the whole thing he could’ve run Amelia to hospital, because where was that Lucas when he was needed? At work, or so he said. Typical. Of course, Nick would’ve taken her if it weren’t for his driving ban.