Contents (71)
- THE
- DAUGHTER
- MICHELLE FRANCES
- PROLOGUE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Iris lifted her sunglasses and raised her plastic cup of Pimm’s.
‘To Becky,’ she said proudly. ‘You are going to make a fine journalist. Wily, smart, tenacious. And I should know, you would always find out where I’d hidden the chocolate biscuits.’
Kate smiled. ‘To Becky,’ she said and hugged her daughter tightly.
‘And to Kate,’ added Iris. ‘A truly wonderful mother who made all this happen.’
Kate pulled a face. ‘Don’t be daft. I did nothing.’
‘Not true,’ said Iris. ‘Not true at all.’
FIFTY-NINE
2018
Her phone was ringing. Dragging her up through sleep. She glanced at the screen through squinting eyes but didn’t recognize the number.
‘Hello?’
‘Is that Kate?’ said a male voice. Despite her sluggishness, Kate still registered – what was it? – tension in his tone.
‘Yes?’
‘It’s Adam, Adam Langley. Becky’s friend. We met at the Agrochemical Britain conference.’
Adam! Kate sat up quickly, tried to reorder her brain. ‘Yes, yes . . .’
‘I need to see you. After work. Today.’
‘OK. Sure. Where?’
‘Bushy Park. South side of Heron pond. Six thirty.’
She scrabbled around on the bedside table for a pen and scrap of paper. Wrote it down. ‘I’ll be there.’
‘Don’t tell anyone you’re coming.’
‘OK . . .’
‘I mean it.’
‘I won’t. I promise.’
He waited a moment and she sensed him evaluating her trustworthiness, then he just said: ‘Please don’t be late,’ and hung up.
She looked at the clock. It was seven thirty. She had to get to work.
The day dragged, as they all had since she’d returned from Anguilla a week ago. She felt Martin watching her, checking her attitude matched the company one – ‘Here to help!’ – and it took all of her effort not to walk out of the door. Her mind went round and round wondering why Adam wanted to see her. The last time she’d spoken to him he couldn’t get away from her fast enough and had instructed his girlfriend, what was her name, Trixie, to drive off at speed.
As soon as her shift was over, she took the train to Hampton Court and then walked past the palace into Bushy Park. She made it to Heron pond at six twenty-three and looked around for Adam but couldn’t see him. It wasn’t that busy, just a few commuters walking home and some teenagers practising wheelies on their bikes. A few deer wandered about, noses to the ground as they grazed or stared nonchalantly at their fellow human park-dwellers.
‘Keep your distance,’ said a low voice from behind and Kate saw Adam pass her and head away from the pond towards the Oval plantation. She did as she was bid, walking in the same direction but staying back twenty metres or so, allowing herself one hesitant check over her shoulder to see if anyone was following them, but saw nothing.
Once he disappeared into the trees, she thought she’d lost him. She stepped through the crackly undergrowth, the fallen crisp leaves dusting the floor, feeling caught in a maze of tree trunks.