Back The Lie Save as PDF
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. Copyright
  3. Praise for The Lie
  4. Dedication
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Chapter 31
  36. Chapter 32
  37. Chapter 33
  38. Chapter 34
  39. Chapter 35
  40. Chapter 36
  41. Chapter 37
  42. Chapter 38
  43. Chapter 39
  44. Chapter 40
  45. Chapter 41
  46. Chapter 42
  47. Chapter 43
  48. Chapter 44
  49. Chapter 45
  50. Chapter 46
  51. Chapter 47
  52. Chapter 48
  53. Chapter 49
  54. Keep Reading
  55. Acknowledgements
  56. Book Club Questions for The Lie by C.L. Taylor
  57. A Conversation With C.L. Taylor
  58. About the Author
  59. Also by C.L. Taylor
  60. About the Publisher

“Okay, but you can’t just … Al? Hello, Al? Can you hear me? Al!”

The phone goes dead and when I try to ring her back, it goes straight to voicemail. I text her my postcode anyway, and then look at the time. 8.15 p.m.

“Anne?” I sprint down the corridor towards reception, desperately hoping she hasn’t already left. “Anne?”

“Yes?” She pauses in the door to reception, holding it open with a gloved hand, her duffle coat buttoned up to her neck. She’s clutching her car keys in her free hand.

“I need to go, there’s been an emergency. I wouldn’t ask you unless it was really important, but please could you talk to the volunteers for me, and then lock up?”

“But I was just—” She gestures towards the dark yard. We’ve been waiting for Derek to install a security light since the break-in, but he discovered some kind of problem with the electrics that confounded him.

“I know.” I grip the reception counter with both hands. “I know you were just leaving, but this is so important. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Anne looks me up and down then purses her lips and sighs.

“Okay, but if there isn’t some kind of chocolate or cake-type affair on my desk first thing tomorrow,” she says as she unbuttons her coats and slips it off her shoulders, “you won’t hear the last of it. I promise you that!”

Chapter 48

Chapter 48

It’s 8.40 p.m. when I arrive at my cottage, breathing heavily, sweat rolling down my cheeks. There are no cars in the drive and no sign of Al, so I prop my bike up against the side wall and let myself into the cottage. The door catches on a pile of post, and I stoop to pick it up then double lock the front door. I move through the house, checking all the windows are locked and all the curtains are closed, then head for the kitchen and perch on a chair as I flick through the post. It reveals nothing – just junk mail and bills. I bin the junk mail, put the bills on the Welsh dresser and check the time on the kitchen clock. 8.50 p.m. Ten minutes until Al arrives. I sit down again and check my phone, but there are no missed calls, no texts, no Facebook notifications.