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Chapters (61)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. Books by Emily Barr
  4. DEDICATION
  5. Prologue
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgements
  59. Read on for an extract from …
  60. 12 December
  61. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

I couldn’t tell her about Joe because she wouldn’t be able to believe it. It was our secret, mine and Joe’s. It belonged to me and a boy from 1999 who had vanished this afternoon at quarter past five. Who vanished every afternoon at quarter past five. That had to be when it had happened, at quarter past five, on Thursday 11 March, twenty years ago.

What was it, though? What had happened?

‘Right,’ I said. ‘Sit down and watch the telly, and that’s an order. Dinner’s nearly ready. It’s pasta, but I’ll make a tomato sauce, and maybe a salad? That would be good, wouldn’t it? Lots of your five a day. And we can toast Mum again and be incredibly positive and brave.’

I opened cupboards, looking through the tins, hoping to find tomatoes. There was tomato soup. That would do. ‘I’ll buy fresh vegetables tomorrow.’

Mum had always made sure we knew we had to eat fruit and vegetables as part of every meal and we always did: even when things had been at their worst, we’d totted up the gherkin from the burger, the tomato on the pizza.

Mum had been an anaesthetist and the cleverest person I had ever known. Dad was a doctor too, and I hoped the people of Inverness were appreciating his skills, if nothing else. I bet he had a new girlfriend by now.

I didn’t miss Dad, but it was weird having him just vanishing from our lives. I had no idea why Mum had stayed with him. He was horrible. He had been horrible to her, and to Sasha, and nice to me, mainly, I now suspected, as a way of being meaner to them rather than because he actually liked me. When Mum got ill he didn’t get nicer. He just vanished into himself, and ignored Sasha and me until Sasha told him she was pregnant, at which point he had exploded, punched several walls, and gone out driving dangerously around town for hours.

I put the pasta into the pan and typed out an email on my phone before I had time to decide not to:

Dear Dad,

I wanted to write because it’s been a year since Mum died and I know you’ve been missing her too. I hope you’re doing OK in Scotland. Let us know. We’re doing fine. It would be really great if you’d check in with Sasha at some point as I think she’d really appreciate it. So would I.

Ariel xx

I sent it and instantly regretted it.