Chapters (55)
- Cover
- ANNA WHARTON
- Dedication page
- 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
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Praise
- THE IMPOSTER
Suddenly Chloe hears the back door open. Her heart starts thudding. She pushes the shoes back into the box as she hears Patrick cough in the kitchen, then footsteps, heading through the kitchen into the hall. She throws the shoebox back into the box, no time to cover it over with paperwork. She picks the whole thing up, quickly lifts it back into position on top of the other boxes. She’s balancing it in place when Patrick appears at the front room door.
She turns to him, her hands still on the sides of the box. He stares at her, and then up to the box.
‘Everything all right?’ he says. He’s holding the glass of water she left outside.
She follows his eyes then, up to the top of the box, the four sides of the lid still open.
She stares for a second into the blankness of the cardboard, her mind empty of excuses for why she’s in the front room. Then she realizes that the black marker writing with his name on it isn’t visible from this angle. She must have pushed it back on top the other way round. A small mercy.
‘Oh, yeah,’ she says. ‘I . . . I just heard a noise and I think maybe this box . . .’
He glances from her to the box and back again.
‘I think it might have tumbled onto the floor,’ she says. ‘Because when I looked inside . . . anyway, it’s fine now.’
She taps the side of the box. Patrick’s eyes narrow, just a little.
She picks up her bag from the floor, then goes to walk out, pausing beside him.
‘Oh, thank you,’ she says, taking the glass of water from his hand. And then, with a little bit more confidence, ‘I don’t know what would have made it fall down like that.’
‘No,’ Patrick says, quietly. ‘Neither do I.’
He stands there after she takes the glass and walks out of the room, but as she goes up the stairs – her heart still pounding – she sees him through the crack in the door, checking if anything has been disturbed inside.
When she comes downstairs later, the door is shut tight.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Chloe wakes on Saturday morning to sunshine burning through the curtains. Maureen had offered to line them with blackout material, but it had never felt necessary during the last dark mornings of winter. Now spring wakes her before her alarm.
She checks her watch and then picks up her phone. There is a text from Hollie: Hey, how are you? Sorry for late reply. We’re off to Lanzarote this weekend so I’ve been packing. How did the interview go? Let me know you’re ok xxx