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Chapters (46)
  1. Cover
  2. CONTACTS
  3. Dedication
  4. PART ONE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. PART TWO
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. PART THREE
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. EPILOGUE
  42. AUTHOR NOTE
  43. Keep Reading …
  44. About the Author
  45. Also by Mark Watson
  46. About the Publisher

Sal had good networks. The thought buoyed her. This could, ultimately, be an example of how you stayed calm under pressure. A story she could learn from, others could learn from. It didn’t even matter if it made her late for the rehearsal, unthinkable as that was. They could have all the time-management jokes they wanted. She didn’t care if it got Meghan stressed. Meghan could suck her tits. Although thinking how well Meghan did with jokes and metaphors, maybe she wouldn’t say it in those terms.

She went into her recent calls and pressed the green button. Imagine if she was the person to get through to him. If he was waiting for her, if there was something he needed to hear from her. Blood was thicker than water. No; ‘the person’ was not available. Never mind. Get back to the office, try again, start actioning some of these ideas. Sal was going to sort this out.

Not far beneath this capable mental voice was another, not a voice really but a noise: a series of frightening yells, like those heard from the street in a strange city. It didn’t often manage to get at Sal, through all the layers of soundproofing she’d put in the way. It was terrifying when it came onto you, as it had that night of the ashes, as it had threatened to for a second earlier today. She had become expert at shutting it out. Now it was close again; if she broke her stride for a second, she could feel the horror playing with the hairs on the back of her neck. Now it was happening, again. Now it was close.

19

BRISTOL, 03:38

‘Eat some of this, love. You’ll feel better.’

It wasn’t that she minded Lee having woken up, being with her in this emergency: of course, he was her … boyfriend. Although that stuck in the throat when you were 68 and a widow, but ‘life partner’ sounded like someone who would be issued to you by the council. And when people said ‘other half’ she wondered: so was Alan half of me for thirty-four years, then, and have I only been half a person since then? That was why she had retrospectively settled on the word soulmate for Alan, which came from a Marian Keyes book they’d read in the group – although Jean would never have said it out loud.