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Back The Lies We Told Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Table of Contents
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. Acknowledgements
  41. Keep Reading…
  42. About the Author
  43. Also by Camilla Way
  44. About the Publisher

She dreamt that she was being chased, her lungs screaming for air as she ran down darkened streets, her faceless pursuer close on her heels. She was aware as she ran of the overpowering smell of burning, and mingled with the frightening confusion of her nightmare was the horrifying sensation of the skin on her back blistering and melting. She woke gasping for breath, fear gripping her when she realized that the pain in her lungs and throat persisted. Half raising herself up, she saw smoke billowing through her room, the passageway beyond her bedroom door glowing and flickering with red light, the crackle of fire filling her ears.

She couldn’t move. Smoke filled her eyes and lungs, a scream of terror caught in her throat. Suddenly, she saw a figure standing in her doorway and her heart lurched with fright. It was only when they reached her bed that she recognized the slender form and long lank brown hair. It was the woman who lived upstairs. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was Alison looming over her.

20

Cambridgeshire, 1997

Doug, Toby and I stared at each other in astonishment after the front door closed behind Hannah. ‘Where’s she going?’ whispered Toby. ‘Why’s she dressed up like that?’

‘Could she … do you think she’s found herself a job?’ Doug hazarded.

It seemed unlikely. ‘A boyfriend?’ I said, conjuring up an improbable picture of a nice, clean-cut lad for whom Hannah, blinded by love, had transformed herself. Whatever had triggered this extraordinary change it must have been momentous. And I should have been over the moon: instead of her usual slovenly attire she looked like an ordinary, if very pretty, teenager on her way out to meet her similarly wholesome friends. She was up and out of the house by 8 a.m. when normally I could barely get her to surface before noon, bad-tempered and stinking of last night’s cigarettes and beer. But the way she’d looked at me, a certain glint in her eye, had made me uneasy. I knew my daughter. I knew when she was up to something.

My eyes met Doug’s and we gazed at each other uncertainly. ‘Mum?’ Toby’s voice was worried. ‘What’s going on?’

I turned to him and made myself smile. ‘Who knows? But come on now, love, it’s time for school. I’ll get us all a takeaway for our tea later, shall I?’

He smiled back, clearly relieved. ‘OK, Mum.’