Tom counted five separate patches where the same delicate blue flower was blooming. And then he saw it. The unnatural plots, too tidy, too cultivated compared to the unruly foliage that covered the forest floor beyond the circle. In some areas, the blue flowers had taken hold and were spreading, and yet they still appeared contained, as though they were being cared for.

Somebody had cleared the earth of its natural layer and sown their own flowers.

In five places.

Five graves.

CHAPTER 3

Una, 2011

The effects of the alcohol were starting to wear off.

Una realised now how stupid she’d been, but she still thought there was a way out of all this. She clung to it.

She didn’t realise that, while it was her first time being kidnapped, it wasn’t his first time to kidnap.

She didn’t know about the others. Yet.

It had all started with one careless decision. She’d stormed out of the nightclub determined to walk home on her own. Una wasn’t used to rejection, which, as it turned out, tasted bitter. And to come second to Mairead Towell … Jesus. They were friends and all, but what had Mairead got over her? Minus the three inches of slap and Wonderbra, she was a dozy cow with no bloody eyebrows and an A cup.

Not that dozy, though. It wasn’t Mairead trapped in this car.

Underneath it all, Una had just been hurt. She’d fancied the newcomer, even though he was older. She’d flirted outrageously, worn her lowest top and highest heels. The men had fallen over themselves trying to get into her knickers, as usual. But all she’d wanted was him.

So, when he’d so overtly chosen Mairead, ramming his tongue down her throat in the middle of the dance floor, it had been like a punch in the gut. Una knew from the sideways glance he gave her that he was playing mindgames, looking to provoke a reaction.

Una refused to play and stomped out of the venue, gasping for the fresh air at the front door and shrugging off her friends’ concerns. Zipping up her hoodie, she’d started off through the town. She knew she was being reckless and silly, but didn’t give a shit. She needed to pound off the embarrassment.

Some lads had leered at her on the main street as she tottered along it in increasingly painful heels, her skinny jeans chafing her thighs. They had given her a fright, reminding her that, angry as she was, she was vulnerable. She’d turned down a quiet side street to avoid the catcalls.

When the car had pulled up, she’d been grateful to see it. The fresh air had sobered her up and she wanted to go home.