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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
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  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
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  45. 40
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  112. 107
  113. 108
  114. 109
  115. 110
  116. Teaser chapter
  117. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

25 The Avenue

On the other side of the wall, Olivia Lockwood was also awake.

Garrick’s snoring had dragged her from sleep and now it was eluding her. She was worrying about money and whether the children would settle into their new schools and if this house was a millstone they would regret for the rest of their lives. She blinked into the darkness, fully alert now. A distraction was needed. She felt on her bedside table for her Kindle, but found only tissues and a packet of throat lozenges. And then she remembered: the journey from Cheshire. She had left it in the car.

And, Lord, the heat. The energy-sucking heat. Even though she was wearing only a T-shirt, she wanted to tear off her skin. The back of her neck, where skin met hair, was damp. The sheets were damp. A motorbike revved its engine somewhere in the distance. This place was not home. It was strange, full of unfriendly noises. She licked her dry lips. Imagined a tall glass of juice. Her mouth watered. She slipped on her dressing gown, decorated with the urgent red of poppies and their deep black eyes, grabbed her mobile and walked softly across the bedroom.

It was thirty-one hours since he had texted her. In that time, she had checked her mobile fifteen, twenty times for every hour that passed, but there had been no more messages.

She should delete his number. Block him. She had promised Garrick it was over. It was over.

Except she missed him. And she wanted him to miss her, too. To fight for her. Which was pretty shitty when one thought about it.

The kitchen floor was cool underfoot, the grapefruit juice tart and cold. The hit of sugar did not encourage her into going back to bed.

Instead, she refilled her glass, rummaged in the drawer for the car keys and quietly opened the back door, heading for the patio outside. She sat on the edge of a wooden chair, her phone on her lap. Play it cool. Let him contact her.

The dazzling white of a security light flooded next door’s garden. She looked up sharply, a wash of anxiety dampening her top lip. Fox. Or badger. The real estate agent had mentioned this area was a haven for wildlife, including the occasional sighting of muntjac deer. A moth bumped repeatedly against the ancient outdoor light above her head. So much wasted energy. Her fingers played across the cool metal casing of her phone.

Don’t do it.

Her thumb brushed the screen, bringing it to life. She knew he’d be awake or dozing. He was a night owl like she was.