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Chapters (82)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for The House of Whispers
  3. Title Page
  4. Note to Readers
  5. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  19. Twelve
  20. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  21. Thirteen
  22. Fourteen
  23. Fifteen
  24. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  25. Sixteen
  26. Seventeen
  27. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  28. Eighteen
  29. Nineteen
  30. Twenty
  31. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  32. Twenty-One
  33. Twenty-Two
  34. Twenty-Three
  35. Twenty-Four
  36. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  37. Twenty-Five
  38. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  39. Twenty-Six
  40. Twenty-Seven
  41. Twenty-Eight
  42. Twenty-Nine
  43. Thirty
  44. Thirty-One
  45. Thirty-Two
  46. Thirty-Three
  47. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  48. Thirty-Four
  49. Thirty-Five
  50. Thirty-Six
  51. Thirty-Seven
  52. Thirty-Eight
  53. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  54. Thirty-Nine
  55. Forty
  56. Forty-One
  57. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  58. Forty-Two
  59. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  60. Forty-Three
  61. Forty-Four
  62. Forty-Five
  63. Forty-Six
  64. Forty-Seven
  65. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  66. Forty-Eight
  67. Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
  68. Forty-Nine
  69. Fifty
  70. Fifty-One
  71. Fifty-Two
  72. Fifty-Three
  73. Fifty-Four
  74. Fifty-Five
  75. Fifty-Six
  76. Fifty-Seven
  77. Fifty-Eight
  78. Fifty-Nine
  79. Sixty
  80. Priory Hospital North London: 20 December 2019
  81. Acknowledgements
  82. About the Publisher

She cut me off. ‘In the office, Abigail,’ she said, so I slunk over to the small room at the far end of the ground floor. There, I ran my hands through my hair. In my rush to get Meena out of the house and get here, I hadn’t showered, neither had I bothered with make-up. Sitting waiting, I turned the selfie camera on my phone onto my face to check my appearance and recoiled from what I saw: dark circles under my eyes, lank hair, sallow skin, the beginning of jowls. It’s just the angle. It’s the camera, I told myself as I snapped back to the home screen and rubbed my finger across my front teeth, trying to polish off some of the fuzz that remained from a night – or more? – unbrushed. Moira didn’t come for ages – she must be finishing the drinks before attending to me, and quite rightly. But I was so tired… I leaned my head back against the wall. I just needed another vodka. That’d sharpen me up.

‘Abi.’ Moira’s voice was brisk, a call to attention as she brought a swirl of busy energy into the room. ‘Wake up.’

My eyes snapped open and, as I focused, my hand went up to wipe the dribble I could feel gathered at the corner of my mouth. My body bolted forward to attention.

‘Moira. I’m so sorry. I was painting and I was up all night. I lost track of the days.’

She stood there in front of me, her hands on her hips; she may be diminutive in stature but her entire body brimmed with authority.

‘It’s not good enough, Abigail. I’m sorry.’ She glowered at me and I shrank before her. ‘It’s not the first time this has happened, is it? It’s one excuse after the other with you these days, isn’t it?’

I closed my eyes in acquiescence. Since Grace had arrived, I’d become slack.

‘I don’t know what’s going on in your life,’ Moira said, ‘but you need to sort it out before you come back here. I need to be able to rely on my volunteers – to have them turn up when they’re supposed to and do the jobs they’re supposed to do. That’s all I ask. This isn’t a hobby, Abigail. It may be a volunteer position, but I need you to be professional in your conduct.’

I hung my head in shame.