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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

‘Saved your life,’ he joked.

I looked at him uncertainly and fear gripped my stomach as I shook him off before heading away, a little quicker than before; my heart pounding a little faster. I realised how deserted it was up here, how stupid I had been. I should have stayed on the beaches. I should have stayed in sight of people.

‘Dig,’ I commanded over one shoulder, ‘come on. Now, Digby.’

‘Sorry,’ the man was calling forlornly as I slid through the sludge. ‘I was only messing around.’

‘Hilarious,’ I muttered, and tried not to actually run.

By the time I got to the car I was sweating despite the chill. I locked all the doors and then laughed tremulously to myself again as Digby gazed at me curiously from the passenger seat. Perhaps I was going insane. Some poor hill-walker trying to be friendly and I think he’s a stalker. I started the engine before scrabbling through the glove compartment in hope of a cigarette, but I remembered I’d binned them all last night.

And then I looked up and the man was at the farm gate. He must have practically run to catch up with me and he was shouting something and he was climbing over the gate towards me and that was it – I pulled off, except I revved the engine too much, so much that my tyres stuck in the mud for a second and I wasn’t moving, I was just spinning up dirt, and the white-eyed farm dog was barking frantically and the man was getting nearer, he was waving something at me, something shiny, oh my God was it a knife: and then eventually we shot off. I kept my foot pressed to the floor until I reached Polzeath, where I sat for a minute until my heart stopped racing, and I saw how normal everything around me was: the winter surfers lolloping up the beach, boards under their arms, wetsuited like sleek black seals, laughing, flicking tangled curls from their squinting eyes, and for a minute I thought of Sam.

Then I took a deep breath and started the car again, heading home to safety. Only when I reached Pendarlin and went to unlock the front door, shopping bag in hand, that cold fear gripped me again, irrevocably this time. Someone was inside, inside my house. The front door was unlocked, and someone was inside. Someone who was playing my piano.

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

No one had a key to Pendarlin except Val in St Kew, and my father up in London. Frantically I searched for my phone, but my phone wasn’t in any of my pockets, or my bag. My phone wasn’t here at all, I realised with a sinking heart. The man running down the farm path with the shiny thing in his hand. Not a knife at all. My bloody phone.