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Back Cut to the Bone Save as PDF
Chapters (71)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Cut to the Bone
  3. About the Author
  4. Also by Roz Watkins
  5. Note to Readers
  6. Dedication
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  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. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. Extract
  67. Prologue
  68. Chapter 1
  69. Author’s note
  70. Acknowledgements
  71. About the Publisher

It must have been one of the boys. Oh my God, one of her friends. A jolt of memory. The way Gary looked at her with narrowed eyes. Daniel calling her a stuck-up cow. Lucas winking and saying, I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.

But what about Kirsty and Anna? Why hadn’t they protected her?

It must be a dream. She kept saying it to herself. This hasn’t happened.

But she wasn’t waking up. She was still there, in the bathroom, wanting to puke, wanting to scream, wanting to die.

Fuck, fuck fuck. She clutched her head and rocked to and fro.

How was she supposed to deal with this? She wanted Aunt Janet. She wanted her mum. She didn’t remember her mum, but she wanted her anyway.

She had to speak to Kirsty. She mustn’t have a bath or a shower. She looked at her fingernails. Maybe she’d scratched him. Evidence. She couldn’t let him get away with it. He wouldn’t get away with it.

How could she not know who it was?

She’d talk first to Kirsty. Kirsty always knew what to do.

Bex pulled open the bathroom door and walked onto the landing. She looked out of the window at the yard below. A police car. Her pulse spiked. Did they know? Had Kirsty reported it already? Were they coming to talk to her?

And then she heard Kirsty’s scream.

29

Meg – Present day

Wednesday

I stood at the front of the incident room trying to look composed. I was talking to the team, but half my mind was elsewhere, spinning fast and out of control. Images flooded my brain. That hideous pig mask, the body slumped sideways against a tree. A little girl asking us if we wanted tea, her voice polite and clear and unexpected. A feeling of utter dejection came over me. Why hadn’t I watched Frozen with her? Why couldn’t I have let humanity and kindness beat efficiency and professionalism?

They were staring at me. I needed to speak, rather than stand at the front of the room sweating and looking distressed. ‘Gary Finchley was found dead in the woods at Gritton,’ I said. ‘We haven’t confirmed the cause of death, but it appears to be blunt trauma to the head. He had … a pig’s head mask on.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Jai said. ‘Wait for the hysterical hordes to get hold of this one.’

‘They already have,’ Craig said. ‘It’s on social media about the pig’s head. Someone got a photo before we secured it.’

‘Oh Jesus,’ I said. ‘So we’ve got that to contend with as well.’

‘Two in one week,’ Jai muttered. ‘Did some bastard say it was quiet?’