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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

‘Tonight?’ Chloe says, one eye still watching Patrick at the sink. His head is bowed now. Even the back of him looks guilty. She thinks of her archive and her stomach twists inside. ‘Oh, I think she’s busy tonight.’

‘But you said—’ Maureen starts.

‘Actually, I’ve just remembered’ – Chloe mimes slapping her forehead – ‘she text last night to say she’s going out for dinner with her boyfriend.’

‘She’s got a boyfriend, has she?’

‘Yes, Phil.’

‘That might be you some day, bringing a boyfriend home to meet Mum and Dad.’ She nudges Chloe’s elbow. ‘Still, we wouldn’t want you to leave us here, would we, Pat?’

‘Hmm?’ He turns round from the sink.

Maureen rolls her eyes. ‘Oh, men, no point talking to them about this stuff. Anyway, that settles it, Pat’ll bring you home tonight. It’s five you finish, isn’t it, love?’

Chloe nods as Maureen stands up and clasps her hands together.

‘Why don’t you two bring fish and chips home with you? We haven’t had them in ages.’

Chloe makes her excuses after a while, and mounts the stairs, saying she needs to get ready for work. Only when she gets to the top of the landing, something feels different. The door to her room is slightly ajar – she hadn’t left it like that, she never leaves it like that. Slowly, she pushes it open, the door creaking a little as she does. Inside, everything looks the same. For some reason, her eyes fall under the bed. She closes the door and gets down on her hands and knees. She slides one arm underneath, into the darkness, and feels her fingertips hit something familiar – her archive.

She squeezes herself under the bed, pulling it out with both hands. Tentatively she takes off the lid. It’s all there, just as she had kept it. She feels relief and fear, because she knows it wasn’t here last night. Someone had removed it. The box has been returned, but perhaps everything has changed now – maybe whoever has looked inside now suspects her. She leans back against the bed, her fingers feeling for each cutting in turn, each small brown envelope. She holds the archive to her chest as her heart beats against it.

FORTY-SIX