Back Day of the Accident
Chapters (71)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. What readers are saying about
  5. Epigraph
  6. Prologue
  7. Part One
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. Part Two
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. Part Three
  61. 52
  62. 53
  63. 54
  64. 55
  65. 56
  66. 57
  67. 58
  68. Epilogue
  69. Acknowledgements
  70. THE NEXT THRILLER BY NUALA ELLWOOD
  71. THE BEGINNING

While Sonia sees Amanda out I sit and look at the list of names I’ve compiled. Might any of these people know where Sean is or am I just wasting my time? I don’t know the answer but what I do know is that, no matter how hard it gets or how long it takes, I have to find him.

15

My heart is racing as we step out on to the street. It’s almost lunchtime and Lewes high street is packed with shoppers and tourists. Sonia leads the way while I trail behind her, a nervous child following her mother.

Ten minutes later I’m sitting on a chair in an open-plan office while a stocky pimple-faced young man called Neil outlines my ‘Back to Work’ plan. I watch as he types something into his computer. Sonia is waiting in the reception area so I’m going it alone.

‘Right, so what would you say are your key skills?’ says Neil, looking up momentarily from his keyboard. ‘What sort of work should we be looking for?’

‘I used to work in admin,’ I say, speaking slowly so my brain keeps up.

‘Okay,’ says Neil, resuming his typing. ‘What level?’

‘Level?’ I say, imagining myself standing in the lift of the Waterloo office as it rose up to the sixth floor. ‘Er, well, it was mostly reception work.’

‘Basic then,’ says Neil, nodding his head. ‘Reason for leaving?’

He’s reading the questions from a screen.

‘I had a baby,’ I say. ‘And I … I gave up work to look after her full-time.’

Although this young man has been informed at the beginning of the interview that my child is dead, he shows no hint of emotion as he types in my answer.

‘You see, my husband, he was the main breadwinner once Elspeth was born.’

‘So how long have you been out of employment?’ he says.

‘Ten years,’ I reply.

‘You haven’t worked for ten years?’

I can feel him judging me.

‘Not officially, no,’ I say, sweat beginning to gather on my forehead. ‘Though I’ve been writing a book and I was hoping …’ I trail off when I see the look on his face.

‘What sort of work are you looking for?’ he says, with a sigh.

I look at him blankly. I can’t even begin to think about work. What I’m looking for is my husband and my daughter.

‘Reception? Front of house?’