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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

She counts the numbers down from the hundreds and finally she’s standing in front of number 48 – the address she’d checked in the earliest cuttings.

She looks up at what is still quite obviously a child’s bedroom – Angie’s bedroom? No, surely not after all these years? There isn’t much to see: a thin strip of what looks like pink curtains peers out from behind double glazing, and the outline of a light shade hanging from the middle of the room. She looks harder, tries tiptoes, but the reflection of the trees in the window blurs the lines, and she can only just make out the shape of the paper light shade in the shadows cast behind the glass. A car rushes by and when she looks back, the outline is gone.

There’s no movement behind the front door of number 48. There is no car on the drive either. Chloe steps forward, drawn to the house as if it were a magnet and she was metal. The Kyles know what it’s like to lose something, a family member, or have them snatched away. She doesn’t know why she came here to find comfort; instead she thinks of Angela Kyle and feels a pinch of guilt. At least she knows where Nan is now, even if it isn’t with her.

She looks up at the child’s bedroom again. A cloud has crossed the sky, obscuring the view through the glass with its reflection. Now she can’t even make out the light shade. She turns on her heels and heads home to Nan’s.

NINE

Chloe hasn’t been in the office for two days, so she arrives early, hoping to creep in and camouflage herself among the filing cabinets.

Alec is already there when she arrives, his nicotine-stained fingers working through a pile of brown envelopes. Her first thought is that one of them might be the Angela Kyle file, but no, it’s there waiting on her desk, just as she left it on Monday.

She mutters good morning. Alec coughs in response, then he picks up a pile of envelopes and heads deep into the archive. His clothes leave a stale breeze. His silence unnerves her. Should she follow him into the dense forest of filing? She closes her eyes and tries to think what would be happening if her life were a TV show, but nothing comes to her.

She turns on her computer, wishing she could muffle the fanfare it makes as it loads. As the office starts to fill, she casts glances over both shoulders in turn, the weight of the Angela Kyle file feeling reassuring in her hands. She peers inside, the spine of every single cutting so neatly folded; her fingernails pluck at them as if they’re tiny guitar strings.