Trafika Europe 9/10 - UK in Europe

Not Near London

bike. ‘On the bypass? Well well well,’ her mum said, ‘no surprise there.’ But then her mum drives everywhere like she’s in a multi-storey car park. The life classes were good except for the times when the elderly came to show their naughty bits – but she couldn’t complain, or she’d risk being expelled for age discrimination. The black fineliner jiggles and joggles, never still, or only when it separates from the rubbish surface of the newspaper. Wales and Scotland are cross- hatchedshadows.Cornwall is the outstretched leg and the face glances at her sideways from the Lake District: it’s Gildor Inglorion on his way from Rivendell. Jasper drops in a little amoeba of black elfine shadow a few inches

below the South Coast. (The skill of the shadow- maker, that’s what it’s all about: forget the rest, he always says.) Oh, cool, the Isle of Wight! She’s never been there, not even for the festival, because everyone on the island is sixty-five and bright red from yachting. He signs it Jasper Crouch . In ten years’ time it’ll be auctioned at Christie’s, Suzie thinks, smiling to herself. Half- believing it. Jasper got a head start, with a name like Crouch. He doesn’t just think he’s the shit, he was born it. England is leaping. A creature of the dark dark forest, leaping like a ballet dancer. What makes Jasper extra-special, as a graphic artist, is the mystery element beyond the usual deftness. Not exactly a cartoon, more an

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