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Chapters (59)
  1. Bad Friends
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. AFTER: DECEMBER
  6. BEFORE: JUNE
  7. Chapter One
  8. Chapter Two
  9. Chapter Three
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-One
  38. Chapter Thirty-Two
  39. Chapter Thirty-Three
  40. Chapter Thirty-Four
  41. Chapter Thirty-Five
  42. Chapter Thirty-Six
  43. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  44. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  45. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  46. Chapter Forty
  47. Chapter Forty-One
  48. Chapter Forty-Two
  49. Chapter Forty-Three
  50. Chapter Forty-Four
  51. Chapter Forty-Five
  52. Chapter Forty-Six
  53. Chapter Forty-Seven
  54. Chapter Forty-Eight
  55. A CONVERSATION WITH CLAIRE SEEBER
  56. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  57. About the Author
  58. By the same author:
  59. About the Publisher

Did his grin fade just a little? ‘Oh right. I see.’

I wasn’t sure I did. Since I’d been off sick I felt more out of place here than I ever had before.

The policeman was switching his phone on, checking the time. ‘I’d better do one. Nice to meet you.’

I smiled a half-hearted smile. ‘Likewise.’

‘Hope your foot’s better soon.’

‘Thanks. And you go get ’em, tiger,’ I said, a little groggily.

This time he definitely did grin. Painkillers and booze were perhaps not the most sensible of partners, I reminded myself, as he dropped the mike onto a plate of egg and cress. And it was only as the door clattered behind him that I noticed the blond boy skulking in the shadows.

‘God! You frightened me,’ I said shakily as he stepped towards me, extending a long white hand from the sleeve of a tweed jacket. How long had he been there? My mind scrabbled like rodent claws on wood as I tried to remember what I’d just said. What I shouldn’t have said.

‘Sorry. I thought you’d seen me.’

Tentatively I took the proffered hand. It was curiously limp, the rather dirty nails over-long.

‘Maggie Warren? Don’t you remember me? We met in the summer.’

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

There were still quite a few things I didn’t remember about the summer, and more that I didn’t want to. It was a necessary blank that I’d apparently blocked as best I could.

Last summer I had teetered on a precipice, following my wrung-out heart, and I almost didn’t make it back. It scared me now to be confronted with someone I had no memory of.

I looked closer at him. He had a smooth, rather feminine face, a choirboy’s pallor, blond hair that fell over his eyes like a child’s, although he was dressed like he was fifty. He was swaying slightly. In fact, the whole room appeared to be swaying slightly. I really needed to go home now. I certainly didn’t need to be any more unsteady on my feet than I already was: I’d be rendered ‘Drunk in charge of a crutch’. I stifled a rather hysterical giggle. It was definitely time to leave.

The boy looked a little nonplussed. ‘Don’t you remember me? Joseph Blake. I did some research for you in May. There was a couple of us. University placement.’

‘Oh God, yes, of course.’ I clapped a dramatic hand to my clammy brow. ‘How stupid of me.’ I had absolutely no memory of him whatsoever – and it frightened me. ‘Joseph – Joe, is it?’

‘No. Just Joseph.’ He was scowling now. ‘You don’t remember, do you?’