BooksBarbecue
Back The Imposter Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. ANNA WHARTON
  3. Dedication page
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  54. Praise
  55. THE IMPOSTER

‘Look, Pat, this one is from Hunstanton,’ Maureen says. ‘Our Angie loved it there, didn’t she? Remember her on that carousel at the little fair they had at the end of the promenade?’

Patrick smiles to himself, then lifts the volume on the television again, the spirit of the room inflated once again by a happy memory. Chloe is always amazed how that happens.

Maureen hands the photograph to her. It’s of Angie, aged around three, buried deep in the Hunstanton sand, only her head and her right hand poking out. She waves at the camera with her tiny fingers. Beside her sits Maureen, the pair of them giggling away. And behind them, on the sunbed, a shadow, a darker, more serious face, just out of focus.

‘You’re not cold are you, love?’ Maureen says. ‘You’ve got goosebumps.’

Chloe shakes her head quickly, while Maureen goes back to the picture.

‘There’s Patrick in his younger days,’ Maureen says, her fingernail hovering over the face Chloe noticed behind them. She looks up at Patrick in his armchair – of course it’s him. How strange that she hadn’t recognized him, but the camera has a funny way of capturing people sometimes. Maureen holds her palm out and Chloe hands the photograph back to her, then she puts away the rest of the albums and goes into the kitchen for a packet of garibaldis she forgot she’d bought.

TWENTY-FOUR

Chloe opens her eyes, blinking in the blackness of the room. She can’t sleep.

It’s quiet, much quieter than Nan’s. It’s dark too. When she wakes in the middle of the night at Nan’s, her bedroom is a dull orange colour, the light from the street lamp outside streaking through her curtains. But here, there are no street lights, she is surrounded by nothing but the whistle of the wind at her windows. On cue, the glass rattles slightly next to her bed. She pushes her covers back and dips her head behind the curtains, feeling the cold of the glass and a thin, freezing draught on her skin. Chloe searches the sky for the moon but tonight, there aren’t even stars. Her breath soon fogs up the glass and she dips back under the curtains.