Chapters (45)
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
- Chapter Thirty-four
- Chapter Thirty-five
- Chapter Thirty-six
- Chapter Thirty-seven
- Chapter Thirty-eight
- Chapter Thirty-nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-one
- Chapter Forty-two
- Chapter Forty-three
- Chapter Forty-four
- Acknowledgements
‘Oh, like last time, there’s not much I can do. I expect they’ll find the culprit in the end but, again, everyone will still think it’s me as I was the first accused. I’m so used to it, Eileen. But as long as it doesn’t affect all my work here …’
She makes a stern face.
‘Oh, no no no. No, it won’t. You’ve been completely upfront and that’s all we ask. Obviously, if you were convicted of a crime. But hearsay is just that.’
We sign the forms and I watch as she ticks a box on her computer. Fit for practice. I manage to remain calm just long enough to leave her office and lock myself in the disabled toilet at the end of the corridor. I open the envelope. A face stares out at me. I look closely and see thick, wiry hair escaping his open-necked shirt.
I feel sick. How did that happen? How? From the vague, out-of-focus memory I had of him, he’d been as pissed as me. Rowdy. I remember rubbing up against him and laughing loudly as I practically dragged him to his room.
There’d been a sobering moment when he’d asked me how much I charged, but, apart from that, all I remembered was having sex then passing out. I read the writing on the back of the photo carefully.
I’M WATCHING YOU, CAROLINE.
Chapter Seven
Made-up Monica’s phone is beep, beep, beeping as I make my way back to my office. It’s a notification beep that reminds me to put the phone on silent and I soon see what the fuss is about. Christine Dearden’s husband is on the warpath. He’s seen the picture and he’s posting threatening comments aimed at you.
Someone from school, Trevor Dane, had chipped in, telling him to ‘calm down, it was years ago’. So he’s threatened him as well. A sub-post has started about Monica, some girls I hardly knew wondering who she was and did anyone actually remember her?
Someone does, of course. Auto-suggestion powers much of social networking and someone posts that Monica was on the running team and good at geography. Someone else posts that she was the best friend of another girl who doesn’t appear to be on Facebook and wonders if Monica still sees her.