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Back The Family Next Door Save as PDF
Chapters (117)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
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  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
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  88. 83
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  106. 101
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  108. 103
  109. 104
  110. 105
  111. 106
  112. 107
  113. 108
  114. 109
  115. 110
  116. Teaser chapter
  117. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

You were quick. You had already dialed the second nine by the time I reacted. I pulled the wire from the wall. I wanted to talk to you, to explain everything, but you would not listen.

You ran from me, through the back door and into the garden. The heat of that summer As hot as this one, hotter perhaps, and burned into my memory.

I followed you, but you were scrambling over the fence and into the garden of the house next door. I watched you, climbing up the ladder—not rotten then—and into the tree house you had been given permission to use whenever you liked.

Shadows had fallen across the garden. The neighbors—a young childless couple whose names I’ve long since forgotten—were on a round-the-world trip.

I took my time, enjoying the scent of the jasmine. My love wasn’t home. It was just you and me.

You were muttering, talking to someone who wasn’t there. But you stopped when you heard me coming. You were lying on your stomach on the tree house floor, your hair sticking up in tufts. As I stood over you, I considered giving you the benefit of the doubt. But you were always one to keep your word, even at the age of ten.

You started to scream.

I wanted you only to be quiet. That’s why I hit you in the back of the skull with a rock.

83

83

Wednesday 1st August 2018, 3:01 A.M.

25 The Avenue

Up high, in the heart of the tree, the wind in the leaves was as loud as rushing water. Evan was cold and wished he’d worn his bathrobe. A twig caught his cheek, tearing the skin. His fingers touched blood. The branches grasped at his hair and his pajamas, and he struggled to free himself, his arms flailing, panic on his lips.

He was crying by the time he collapsed onto the hard boards of the tree house floor, his flashlight casting shadows, startling him at every turn.

A plum fell onto the metal roof and the thump made him cry out, and he wanted nothing more than to be back in the safety of his bed, his mother and father bickering downstairs, the music blaring from his sister’s room, enveloped by the security of his family unit, everything as it should be.

He took several deep breaths, fighting to calm himself. In his head, he kept hearing the sound of the scream, and he didn’t want to think about it, but there it was, right at the front of his brain, and it made him think about all the dead people in the woods across the road, and he was scared, truly scared.