Chapters (58)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Forty-five
- Forty-six
- Forty-seven
- Forty-eight
- Forty-nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-one
- Acknowledgements
- An Eastbourne Murder Mystery
- Canelo Crime
- About the Author
- Also by Sheila Bugler
At the bar, Dee ordered another glass of wine for herself, along with the soda and lime. As she carried the drinks back to the table, she took the opportunity to take a good look at the woman she’d come here to meet.
Her name was Emer Doran. She was Dee’s cousin but, until today, the two women had never met. And probably never would have, Dee reflected, if Emer hadn’t contacted her last week out of the blue. She’d sent an email, saying she’d just moved to London and asking if Dee would like to meet up. Emer’s father and Dee’s father were brothers who had fallen out when Dee was a child. Her father had always refused to talk about his brother. As a result, Dee knew very little about her uncle and his family, who lived in Ireland in the same town Dee’s father had lived in until he emigrated to England in the sixties.
‘I’d never have guessed we were related if I’d passed you on the street,’ Dee said, putting the drinks on the table and sitting down. ‘You don’t look anything like my dad’s side of the family.’
‘I’m more like my mum, I guess,’ Emer said.
Unlike Dee, who had inherited her father’s height and stockiness, Emer was like a delicate doll. With porcelain skin, pale blue eyes and a dancer’s body, she couldn’t have looked less like Dee if she’d tried.
‘I’m so glad you got in touch.’ Dee took a sip of her wine, thinking about all the other things she wanted to say. This should be a big moment for her. Since her father’s death five years earlier, Dee had resigned herself to never getting to know his side of the family. When she was younger she’d tried to convince her father to rebuild his relationship with his brother, but he’d always refused. After his death Dee had made a few attempts to contact her uncle, but without any luck.
‘I should have done it a long time ago,’ Emer said. ‘It doesn’t seem right that we don’t get to see each other just because of some stupid argument our fathers had years ago.’
‘I know your parents separated,’ Dee said. ‘Our mothers kept in touch a little, I think. Before she died, my mum gave me your mother’s address and telephone number. I called her a few times, even wrote to her at one point, but she made it very clear she didn’t want anything to do with me.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Emer said. ‘I had no idea.’