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Back Before You Were Gone Save as PDF
Chapters (58)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-one
  24. Twenty-two
  25. Twenty-three
  26. Twenty-four
  27. Twenty-five
  28. Twenty-six
  29. Twenty-seven
  30. Twenty-eight
  31. Twenty-nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-one
  34. Thirty-two
  35. Thirty-three
  36. Thirty-four
  37. Thirty-five
  38. Thirty-six
  39. Thirty-seven
  40. Thirty-eight
  41. Thirty-nine
  42. Forty
  43. Forty-one
  44. Forty-two
  45. Forty-three
  46. Forty-four
  47. Forty-five
  48. Forty-six
  49. Forty-seven
  50. Forty-eight
  51. Forty-nine
  52. Fifty
  53. Fifty-one
  54. Acknowledgements
  55. An Eastbourne Murder Mystery
  56. Canelo Crime
  57. About the Author
  58. Also by Sheila Bugler

It had been raining when she left the hotel that morning and she’d put on a jacket. She regretted that now. It was too hot on the Tube, but she was packed in so tight, there was no room for her to take off the jacket. She pulled down the zip and flapped her T-shirt a few times, for all the good it did. Not for the first time since coming to London, she wondered how people did this journey every day of their working lives.

The Tube stopped at Moorgate and she looked up at the map, counting the stations to Victoria. Twelve more stops. She’d read somewhere that the average time between Tube stations was three minutes. Which meant she had thirty-six more minutes stuck inside this burning furnace trying not to inhale the stink of body odour and wet clothes.

At Liverpool Street, the carriage emptied out and Emer grabbed a free seat before anyone else could take it. Like everyone else on the train, she surreptitiously scanned her fellow passengers while, at the same time, avoiding eye contact at all times.

Eleven stops. Thirty-three minutes. A group of Italian tourists were standing by the door, talking loudly to each other, their voices cutting through Lana’s singing. Emer had lived in Italy for a bit, teaching English, and she listened out for the familiar phrases, regretting how quickly she’d forgotten the language after she left.

There was a girl in the group, tall and dark haired and so shockingly, perfectly beautiful it took all of Emer’s self-control not to stare. As the train slowed down and entered Tower Hill station, the group prepared to get off the train, gathering their bags off the floor and reassembling once more by the exit.

Emer dragged her eyes away from the Italian bombshell, focusing on a woman standing a few feet further along the carriage. She was reading a book and, although Emer twisted her neck, she couldn’t quite see the cover. The woman had short, bleached blond hair and she was wearing the most amazing, hand-painted silk dress. Emer knew the dress was silk, and knew it was hand-painted, because she’d done little else last summer except browse images of hand-painted silk dresses, trying to find one she wanted to get married in. Before her wedding plans were cancelled when Nikki walked out on her.

Emer lifted her phone, thinking she’d take a photo. She still held out hope of getting back with Nikki. That hope was the only thing keeping her going. If that happened – when it happened – then this was the dress she wanted to get married in. She switched the camera on and was getting ready to take the photo, when the woman looked up from her book.