'Give the neighbours a shock, wouldn't it!' said Israel's mother.

'Thank you.'

'He's probably just forgotten where he parked it,' said Israel's mother, sotto voce, to Ted as Israel went upstairs. 'He's like that. Very dreamy.'

Once he was dressed, Israel went round the corner to check if the van was there.

The van was gone.

9

Stolen cars in London are of course ten a penny, but a stolen mobile library is a little rarer: maybe ten a twopenny, or five to two farthings, or two to half a sixpence; none of your old tu'penny ha'penny or how's your father, cor blimey, guv'nor, would you Adam and Eve it, Jesus H. Christ, there's a funnyosity, you're having me on, I beg your Covent Garden, there's a turn-up for the books.

A stolen mobile library? It was certainly unusual.

But, still, nonetheless, the police weren't interested. When Israel's mother rang to report the missing vehicle, she was simply issued with a crime number, and that was it.

'That's it,' she said, putting the phone down and explaining the procedure to Ted.

'That's it?' said Ted, who'd gone into shock when he realised the van really was missing. Israel's mother had been feeding him with hot sweet tea and soothing words, but Ted just kept saying, over and over, 'I don't believe this. I don't believe it.'

They were all sitting around the kitchen table.

'It's post-traumatic shock,' Israel's mother whispered to Israel. 'We need to be gentle with him.'

'I just don't believe it,' mumbled Ted.

'You'd better believe it, Ted,' said Israel. 'We have been well and truly TWOCed!'

'Israel!' said Israel's mother.

'TWOCed!' repeated Israel.

'What?' said Ted who, despite the shock, could still rise to irritability with Israel; it'd take more than a shock to stop him getting annoyed with Israel.

'That's what they call it. Taken without owner's consent,' said Israel.

'That's only on television,' said Israel's mother.

'I just don't believe it,' said Ted.

'You can report it online, apparently,' said Israel's mother.

'I don't believe this.'

'TWOCed,' repeated Israel. 'T. W. O. C.'

'D'ye not know a local policeman we could talk to?' said Ted.

'No,' said Israel's mother. 'We've never had anything to do with the police.'

'Ach,' said Ted, putting his head in his hands. 'I don't believe this.'

'There, there,' said Israel's mother. 'Don't worry.'

'Don't worry,' repeated Israel, trying to be helpful.

'Don't you be telling me not to worry!' said Ted. 'It's your flippin' fault in the first place!'

'How is it my fault?'

'I knew we should never have come over to the mainland!'

'It's not my fault!' said Israel.

'Well, whose fault is it, then?' said Ted, who was definitely returning to his usual self; the hot sweet tea was taking effect. 'I never should hae listened to yer stupit slarrying nonsense.'

'My what?' said Israel.

'It's you that brought us over for this stupit Mobile Meet and now look at what's happened!'

'Don't be blaming me for someone else stealing-'

'All right, calm down now, boys, please,' said Israel's mother. 'I'm sure it'll turn up.'

'It's a van, Mother. It's not a pair of spectacles,' said Israel.

'I am aware of that, Israel, thank you.'

'What are we going to do?' said Ted, slumping down in his seat.

'Well, first of all, I'm going to put the kettle on, and then we can make a few calls,' said Israel's mother.

'Who're we going to call?' said Ted.

'Ghostbusters?' said Israel.

'Don't be facetious, Israel,' said his mother. 'Can't you see Ted's very upset about this?'

'Sorry.'

'Good. Now,' said Israel's mother, producing a Biro and small notebook from her handbag. 'Let's make a proper list, shall we?'

Israel's mother was a great one for lists; she'd have done well in the Army Service Corps, or as an estate agent, or as a primary school teacher, preparing for a new class at the beginning of September. If something had to be done, it first had to be listed: making a list, for Israel's mother, was almost more important than doing the thing itself. Indeed, often, if you put something on a list, Israel had learned from his mother from an early age, you didn't then actually have to do it; the list effectively substituted for the thing. Israel's father had been exactly the same, except with figures. As an accountant he'd understood numbers as a principle, and on behalf of other people, and yet had somehow failed to translate this successfully into the business of making actual money for himself. Which was maybe why Israel had ended up as a librarian-he was doing what his father did with numbers, and what his mother did with lists, except with books. Those who can, do; those who can't learn classification and cataloguing.

Israel's mother was jotting down notes.

'Okay. Number one, first of all, while I'm making the tea someone's going to have and go and speak to the Krimholzes.'

'Oh no. Not the Krimholzes. Why?' said Israel.

'Because you parked the van outside their house.'

'Well, I'm not going round there,' said Israel. 'I've just been round there.'

'Yes, but you didn't think to actually speak to them, did you?'

'No.'

'Well, they might have seen something, so you need to-'

'They won't have seen anything.'

'And you know that, do you? Go on now,' said Israel's mother. 'It'll take you only two minutes.'

'Why me?' said Israel.

'Well, I'm hardly going round there, am I?' said Israel's mother.

'So what about Ted?' said Israel.

'I don't mind,' said Ted.

'No!' said Israel's mother. 'Certainly not! That's hardly fair on Ted, is it?'

'Why not?' said Israel.

'They don't know Ted from Adam.'

'Fine. So you go,' said Israel. 'They know you best.'

'No, don't be silly. I've already said I'm not going,' said Israel's mother.

'Well, I've already said I'm not going.'

'What's wrong with these people?' asked Ted.

'It's just…' began Israel's mother, as the kettle started to boil.

'Well, Mother?'

'Because…'

'She's funny about it,' Israel said to Ted.

'I am not funny about it!' said Israel's mother. 'They're just not the sort of people you want to…know your misfortune, that's all.'

'Ah,' said Ted. 'Neighbours.'

'Precisely!' said Israel's mother triumphantly. 'See! Ted understands. He's a man of the world.'

Ted blushed, there was a lull in conversation and the kettle came to boiling point.

'So, when you're gone, Israel, I'll start making some phone calls,' said Israel's mother.

'Oh no. No. I'll tell you what, I'll make the calls instead and you can-'

'No. I'll make the calls. You're going round to the Krimholzes.'

'No, I'm not!' said Israel. 'I've got to go anyway. I've got to go and see Gloria.'

'Oh,' said Israel's mother, brandishing a tea bag in one hand and a pint of milk in the other. 'I see. It's like that, is it? Just down to me and Ted then, is it?'

'No, mother. I haven't seen Gloria yet, and…'

'Like rats deserting a sinkin' ship,' said Ted.

'No, Ted! Come on.'

'Well,' said Israel's mother, 'someone is going to have to go to the Krimholzes. And it can't be Ted, and it's not going to be me. Which leaves…' She looked around the kitchen, forlornly.

'Mother!' said Israel.

'Don't be so babyish, Israel,' said his mother.

'I'm not being babyish.'

'Yes, you are.'

'No, I'm not.'

'You are now! Just go round and find out if they saw anything.'

'Oh God!' said Israel.

'Language,' said Ted.

'Shut up!' said Israel.

'Don't be rude to our guest,' said Israel's mother.

'I'm not being rude, he's just…agh!'

'Go on!' said his mother. 'Go!'