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Back Last Place You Look Save as PDF
Chapters (85)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Part 1
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. Part 2
  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. Part 3
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. Epilogue
  82. Acknowledgements
  83. Canelo Crime
  84. About the Author
  85. Also by Louisa Scarr

He knows only too well.

Part 2

18

Sunday

Robin wakes in the night with a jolt. His body is cold and clammy; the sheets are soaked with his sweat. But he can still smell it. He can taste it, the image from the dream so clear in his mind.

He lies in the darkness, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal. He forces himself to take a juddering deep breath in, slowly, then lets it out. He knows why this is happening. It’s soon. The one date he tries to forget.

He gets out of bed, feeling the cold air on his damp skin. He knows he needs to wake up fully, get the image of the dream out of his head or he’ll never get back to sleep. The digital clock next to his bed reads 2:36. He can’t start the day at this time. He needs some rest.

He misses her.

But she’s gone. Everything’s gone.

He thinks of Liam. Does he feel like this? Does he struggle to get to sleep at night, wake in the black, body tensed up in knots? Liam’s alone, just as Robin is, and he thinks again about calling him, extending a branch of reconciliation. He would love to see Liam, but still, something stops him.

He thinks about the days before. Before the accident, even before the kids. A carefree world where he and Liam and Georgia would spend Saturday night at the pub. Drinking pints, playing darts, chatting, laughing. Just whiling away the hours, assuming this would be something that would always happen.

Little did they know.

He pulls a jumper over his head then walks down to the kitchen and flicks the light on. He stands for a moment, blinking, in the middle of the tiled floor, feeling his bare feet get cold. He sees the mess left from his day of doing nothing: the sink piled with dirty dishes, crumbs, puddles of coffee, discarded spoons, pizza boxes, just left on the side. The floor feels gritty under his feet. He can’t remember the last time he cleaned this place, or took any pride in his surroundings.

He listens to the noises of his world. The hum of the fridge, an occasional car going past in the road. The rain falling on the pavement outside. He knows that if he goes into the living room, everything there will be as he left it: the cushions discarded, an array of dirty mugs abandoned.

Saturday night, Sunday morning, and he stands in his boxer shorts, grubby sweatshirt, his hands by his side, his head bowed. He doesn’t know why he came down here now. He just feels the empty hole in his chest.

Nothing changes. Nobody cares.

He feels so incredibly alone.

19

Monday

Freya faces Butler outside the interview room. Amy Miller is inside. They’re recording this one: the paperwork is signed and the video ready to go.