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
She went into an alleyway between two houses that issued into a small council estate. She hobbled through a small corridor between two buildings and vaulted over a metal fence. She landed on her bad foot and she actually saw the pain as well as felt it, like a firework going off, all golden sparks. One of her slippers came off. She felt tiny stones and sharp objects jab at the sole of her good foot. But she was able to keep going, through the other side, where she knew there was a shopping street, and once she was out there, with people pushing buggies and old people walking slowly and a bus pulling up, she at last looked round and he wasn’t there and she stopped with a moan and vomited on the pavement.
Sixty-Three
“That’s disgusting,” said a voice.
A tiny old woman was staring at her, her lips pursed.
“I just . . .” said Jude, straightening up. Her eyes were watering, her foot was throbbing hideously. The palm of her left hand had a pulsing pain of its own. She could feel it up to the elbow.
“Someone’s got to clear that up, that’s what you people don’t realize.”
She walked off and Jude stared after her. You people? She tried to think what to do. She had to call Leila, but she had no phone, no money. She wasn’t even sure where she’d ended up in her frantic flight. She would have to ask for help, but who from?
Making up her mind, she limped into a newsagent on the corner, whimpering with pain.
“Excuse me,” she said to the man at the counter.
He looked at her and his expression changed from bland politeness to one of distaste.
“Please,” she said. She wanted to smile at him, but instead she gave a kind of snort. Her face felt snotty, and she wiped her forearm across it. She reeked of sweat and vomit.
“Yes?” He wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“Please,” she said again. “Can you help me. I need to call someone urgently. Can I use your phone?”
“Sorry.” He turned away. “You need to leave.”
“What?”
“I can’t help.”
“Just a minute.”
“Please leave,” he said, stony-faced, not meeting her eyes.
Bewildered, Jude limped and shuffled to the door. She looked down at herself. Her swollen ankle looked enormous. One foot was bare and covered in blood. Her T-shirt was splattered with vomit.
She stood on the pavement and people moved to avoid her, even to avoid looking at her.
“Please,” she said to a trim middle-aged man in a suit. He had a pleasant face. “Please can I borrow your phone?”
He didn’t answer but looked away as if he hadn’t heard.
“I need help,” said Jude to nobody.
“Here you go.” A rake-thin teenager with cavernous eyes was holding out his mobile.
“What?”
“You said you wanted to make a call.”