Chapters (26)
- Cover
- ABOUT THE BOOK
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Prologue
- SUNDAY,1 JANUARY 1995
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- MONDAY,2 JANUARY 1995
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- TUESDAY,3 JANUARY 1995
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- WEDNESDAY,4 JANUARY 1995
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- THURSDAY,5 JANUARY 1995
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- FRIDAY,6 JANUARY 1995
- Chapter Eleven
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Also by Anna McPartlin
She didn’t panic initially, just opened the double doors to the kitchen, but when Bridie wasn’t there her heart flipped. Oh, don’t do that.
‘Bridie!’ she said, moving towards Bridie’s room. ‘Bridie?’
Bridie wasn’t there. She wasn’t in Maisie’s room, Jeremy’s or Valerie’s. She wasn’t in the hall, she wasn’t in the back garden and she wasn’t out front. Lynn looked around frantically. Jesus Christ, it’s the Bermuda Triangle here. Will people ever stop fuckin’ disappearing? Bridie’s coat was missing. She had left and taken her coat. It was a black trench coat she’d had since the sixties. It was faded in places and the seam had given way but she loved it. It always hung in pride of place on the rack by the door and it was gone. Oh, no. Oh, God, no. Lynn grabbed her coat and her bag, then raced to her car, heart in mouth, brain screaming. She put her key into the ignition and started the engine, rolling down the window so she could shout a description to everyone she met along the road. Please, please, please don’t do this to me, Bridie. She couldn’t have gone far. Three minutes. Less than three minutes.
There weren’t many people on the street. It started to drizzle again and it was so cold that she was lucky she didn’t have to de-ice the car. She called out to a few kids on the corner. They hadn’t seen an old woman in a black trench coat. She shouted to a man on a bike. He hadn’t either. She signalled to a man beside her at traffic lights. He was no wiser. Where in Christ are ya, Bridie?
She had to pull over. She had no choice: her head was swimming and her heart palpitating. She felt dizzy and nauseous. She had no clue where to look or what to do. Circle around again? Call the guards? Go back to the house? She got out of the car and vomited on the side of the road. She grabbed her spray from her bag and squirted under her tongue. I’m not able for this. She waited until the black spots ceased to jog around her eyeballs and started the car again. I’ve lost Bridie. It was less than three minutes and I’ve lost Bridie.