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Chapters (74)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Chapter 31
  36. Chapter 32
  37. Chapter 33
  38. Chapter 34
  39. Chapter 35
  40. Chapter 36
  41. Chapter 37
  42. Chapter 38
  43. Chapter 39
  44. Chapter 40
  45. Chapter 41
  46. Chapter 42
  47. Chapter 43
  48. Chapter 44
  49. Chapter 45
  50. Chapter 46
  51. Chapter 47
  52. Chapter 48
  53. Chapter 49
  54. Chapter 50
  55. Chapter 51
  56. Chapter 52
  57. Chapter 53
  58. Chapter 54
  59. Chapter 55
  60. Chapter 56
  61. Chapter 57
  62. Chapter 58
  63. Chapter 59
  64. Chapter 60
  65. Chapter 61
  66. Chapter 62
  67. Chapter 63
  68. Chapter 64
  69. Chapter 65
  70. Chapter 66
  71. Epilogue
  72. Acknowledgements
  73. About the Author
  74. Extract from The Mayfly

‘Your mother is—’ She checked the pad. ‘Rose? She’ll be here to see you later today. She’s bringing a few of the things you wanted.’

Still no response. Not verbally anyway; but there was something in her eyes that worried Marie. Something that made her anxious.

Marie took out the photographs the doctor had given her. They had been found tucked into Elinor’s bag on admission. They must be important to her but they were strange. Not like family photos of a loved one but more like the paparazzi shots Marie was used to seeing in the magazines that adorned the waiting room.

They were photographs of the same man, impersonally taken, without him knowing.

Marie picked one out and showed it to her new patient. ‘Who’s this, Elinor?’

Elinor cocked her head to one side, ruffling the pillow.

‘That’s my husband. His name is Charlie.’

Acknowledgements

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Writing isn’t a solitary business. OK, it starts with me, a laptop and a few loopy ideas but there’s a host of people without whom this book, much like the first Charlie Priest novel, would never have made it to print.

Huge thanks go to the team at Bonnier Zaffre for your endless support and belief, but particularly to Katherine Armstrong, whose insightful and intelligent editing was invaluable and added an extra dimension to the story.

To Oliver, Grace and Archie, the people who live with me, and have to put up with my deeply flawed personality on a daily basis, thank you for being there and for being who you are. You probably don’t realise, but you’re a constant source of inspiration for me and I mean it when I say I’m deeply proud of you all.

Thanks and applause to Mum, not in an obligatory thanks-for-giving-birth-to-me kind of way, but genuinely your work on The Ash Doll was really helpful and your attention to detail is second to none. I’m still getting over the fish tank comment from The Mayfly – only you can notice minutiae to that level.

To Denise (MIL) and Rick (FIL), thanks for taking us in for those few weeks when we were less like a family and more like a nomadic tribe. Special thanks also to MIL for your read through of an early draft; it was great to see the book unfold through your comments.

To you, the reader: thank you for picking up this book and reading it. If you read The Ash Doll because you liked The Mayfly, then welcome back and I hope you enjoyed Priest’s latest outing. If you’re new to the series, thanks for giving a new author a try. There are so many talented writers out there, so many amazing books, I’m humbled to know that you gave up your time to read my work.