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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

When she was a child, she had a favourite teacher in year three. Her name was Miss Moore. Chloe had a book then, about a little girl who loved her teacher too, and when she read it she always thought of herself and Miss Moore. She once saw Miss Moore trimming a hedge outside her house. She often wished she could go into that house, that she could look behind her red front door. The teacher in the book left the school, and Chloe felt sure that Miss Moore would never do that to her. Then one morning she arrived at school and there was no Miss Moore in front of the blackboard. There was Mr Chadwick. The next time she walked past Miss Moore’s house she reached over the fence and pulled all the heads off her pink roses. It had made her feel better but only for a while. She feels safe with Nan, and she knows Nan feels safe with her, and that’s more than you can ask from a lot of people. In the electrical department, she feels wet tears on her cheeks. When will Nan be home?

She looks up and sees someone watching her. She dries her eyes. Hollie is right: the first thing Nan will want when she comes home is a cup of tea. And she will come home. She has to.

Chloe takes the kettle to the till. She waits in line to pay, gripping the box. A man and his daughter stand not far from her. The girl is about four, her hair in a plait, a navy pinafore peering from under her cerise woollen coat. She thinks of the missing girl in the news cuttings. Chloe watches her as she plays, balancing her shiny T-bar shoes on her dad’s giant ones and giggling as he walks her round in circles in his great big footsteps.

‘Excuse me? Madam?’

Chloe spins round. She hadn’t noticed the cashier calling her forward.

‘Sorry,’ she says, smiling back at the little girl and her dad and placing the kettle on the counter.

‘They’re lovely at that age, aren’t they?’ the cashier says.

At that moment, the father looks across to the tills and the cashier waves at the little girl. The man smiles back.

‘Oh, yes,’ Chloe says, fishing inside her purse.

The cashier rings up the kettle on the till.

‘Right, that’ll be twenty-five pounds, please,’ she says.

Chloe pays as the man and the little girl start to head for the exit.

The cashier presses her receipt into her hand.

‘Hold on to these moments,’ she says. ‘They grow up so fast.’