Chapters (78)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- 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
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Remarkable Praise for Nicci French
- Also by Nicci French
- About the Publisher
“No,” she said quickly. Almost too quickly. She saw the look of relief that he tried to hide. “I mean, that’s really nice of you, but it’s just a short visit and it would eat up your weekend when you’ve been working so hard all week. We’ll probably just be sharing memories.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll try and manage without you,” he said lightly.
She looked up to meet his gaze, took in his gray eyes, his smooth face, the dark blond hair cut neat and short, the linen shirt. He looked clean and cool and trustworthy. She knew that if she pressed her face into his neck, he would smell of sandalwood.
It was quite easy to lie after all.
Four
Jude stood outside Blackhorse Road station in the drizzling rain, sipping the coffee she had bought. People hurried by with their heads lowered. She had arrived with plenty of time to spare and now she kept glancing at the time on her phone. There was a cold wind blowing, and she wished she had packed warmer clothes.
It was typical of Liam, she thought: when she had known him, he had always arrived late, strolling along, never in a hurry, never apologetic, as if it couldn’t be helped.
Perhaps he wouldn’t come at all and then she could go home and pretend this had never happened. It would be a relief. Yet at the same time she felt a touch of disappointment or even regret.
A car horn sounded and she turned to see a blue car drawing up on the double-yellow lines. It was old, with a dent in the rear door, and it didn’t look in much better condition than the car they’d been in that night eleven years earlier. Liam opened the door and climbed out, leaving the engine running.
Jude hurried across.
“Ready?”
“I guess so.”
“I wrote down the full address. It’s on the bit of paper in the cup holder. This road leads you on to the North Circular, so you’ll be on the A12 in no time, heading east. The key is hanging on a nail in the porch.” The drizzle was thickening into chilly rain. He handed her a thin wallet. “It’s almost out of petrol.”
“I can pay.”
His expression hardened.
“You’re doing me a favor, I don’t want your charity as well. Promise you’ll use my card.”
Male pride, she thought, and felt a twinge of pity and irritation.
“Okay.”
“The pin is 6613. I’ve written it under the address.”
A car horn sounded from behind. Liam’s car was blocking the way. A man leaned out of his car window and shouted angrily. Liam casually gave him the finger. The man started to say something more but then Liam looked round at him and he subsided.