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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
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  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
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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

It was only a few hours later, when she had finished her press release and was thinking about what to cook for dinner, that she realized she had forgotten to ask Evan what he had wanted to show her.

24

24

Now

The summer that started it all was as tar-stickingly hot as this one. The kind of summer you could taste in hot metal air and drifting spores of pollen.

The shop front had been painted for the occasion, posters stuck about the town. A shrewd idea, that’s what it had seemed like. To attract customers to our toys like butterflies to flowers. The shop had been hemorrhaging money for years, but now it was in intensive care. It seemed I lacked Birdie’s flair for business.

The old fancy dress costumes had been bundled into the back room in loose, careless piles together with old bits of furniture and ancient stock. Everything out of sight.

But the shop itself gleamed with the kind of sheen that can’t be bought: hope.

I can still see the wooden stacks of dominoes, the bold beauty of the jack-in-the-boxes, the perfect porcelain faces of the dolls and the stuffed monkeys with their orange and brown fur. The boxes of miniature cars and the bouncing balls and jacks and a dozen different toys we had spent the last of our money on.

I can still hear the sound the banner made as we unfurled it, the jaunty lettering an invitation to all.

GRAND REOPENING
AND
PUPPET SHOW TODAY

This glorious day was going to change our fortunes. It was going to change everything.

And it did.

25

25

Monday 30th July 2018, 3:04 P.M.

4 Hillside Crescent

The envelope was long and white, and it had her name written across it in a hand she knew as well as her own.

Wildeve lifted it to her nose, hoping for a memory of him, but all she could smell was the chemical tinge of new paper.

She slid her finger beneath the seal and eased it open, pressing the sticky residue of glue and saliva to her lips, knowing his mouth had once been there.

Every serving police officer wrote one.

Every serving police officer hid it at the bottom of their locker and tried to forget it existed.

Every serving police officer—religious or not—prayed that it would never find its way into the hands of their family.

Wildeve tensed her jaw and a bolt of electricity streaked across her face. She needed more medication, but it affected her ability to drive, the combination of pain relief and anticonvulsants slurring her voice and her vision.

With a fingertip, she traced the outline of her name. The truth she couldn’t bear to share with Simon nudged at her: she didn’t want to read it. This was a love letter that should remain unsent. A poor substitute for a mouth and hands, the warmth and solidity of a body. Scant comfort for when the worst happened.