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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

‘Where does this go?’ I asked but already my hand was on the heavy latch, the tickle of a cobweb trailing on my skin as I lifted it and pulled open the door, releasing air stagnant with heat. I craned my neck up to see a narrow, spiral staircase. Using my hands to steady myself as I climbed, I stopped in my tracks at the entrance to a third-floor attic bedroom, and I knew at once that there was something special about this space. High in the eaves with its sleepy eye looking down on the street, it was quiet and still, with an energy that was different to the rest of the house. It had clearly been used by the girl who’d lived there, perhaps as a playroom and maybe later as a study, because stencilled flowers danced around the walls and a desk and bookshelves were pushed up against the wall. In the corner were a few dusty cardboard boxes and a couple of old suitcases. Energy thrummed through me.

I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips to my temples, feeling the vibrations echoing inside my head. It reminded me of the basement flat Grace and I had shared after I graduated. I’d done my best work there, and this attic had the same feel. It was perfect.

Rohan caught up with me, puffing slightly from the exertion of climbing steps almost as steep as a ladder.

‘Wow,’ he said. ‘Studio?’

I nodded and he blew dust off one of the boxes. ‘Looks like the last people left some stuff.’ He opened the top box and pulled out a toddler’s dress. ‘Meh. Baby clothes. Shame it’s not the family treasure.’

‘We have to buy this house,’ I said, heart thumping. ‘Rohan, please. I really need to live here.’

Five

Funnily enough, I hadn’t studied Art at university. Much as I’d wanted to.

‘Nope,’ my dad had said when I’d pushed him, again and again, to let me do something more interesting than Management Science. ‘No way.’

We’d argued it this way and that over dinner, relentlessly, for months.

‘You don’t need a degree in Fine Art in order to paint,’ he said. ‘Did you see the graduate prospects on a Fine Art course? Seventy-one per cent. Compared to what? Ninety per cent on Man-Sci? It’s a no-brainer.’

‘Did you see the student satisfaction scores?’ I’d retorted, because I’d looked at the website too. ‘4.03 on Management Science, and 4.52 on Fine Art.’

‘Pff,’ Dad had said. ‘University courses aren’t designed to make people happy. They’re designed to get people qualifications and jobs – good jobs, careers – and set them up for life.’

‘Sounds boring,’ I’d muttered under my breath.