Contents (57)
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by Sharon Gosling
Toby winced. ‘Thanks.’
‘Look, I’ll do it if you want me to,’ Sylvie said. ‘If there’s anything there, I’ll let you know. What’s the name?’
‘No,’ Toby said. ‘If anyone’s going to do it, it’s got to be me.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Sylvie said. ‘But do get on with it. I need a book from you, remember? You should be working, not fussing over this stuff. This is what you do, Toby. You’ve always had a penchant for the underdog. If there’s a story that needs telling and it’ll right an injustice, rip off that mild-mannered exterior and deal with it, for goodness’ sake. If there’s nothing there, she never even needs to know that you looked, does she?’
They ended the call and Toby stared at the screen of his laptop. Sylvie was right. If there was nothing, Rachel need never know.
He already felt guilty even as he began, but he did it anyway. Opening the archive’s search page, Toby typed in Rachel Harry, then narrowed the search parameters to make it easier to filter out hits that were obviously not connected. He focused on the twelve-month period a decade past, when, if what Rachel had told him was true, she had started living in her VW van and moving from place to place. If that threw up nothing, he’d go back another year and try again.
He didn’t need to go back any further. There were three short articles within a six-month period, published in the Sussex Gazette, a local paper based in Eastbourne, East Sussex.
WOMAN MISSING, HUSBAND FEARS WORST read the first headline. Toby read the three columns of text below, in which Steven Harry, forty-five, of 15 Blotting Rise, Eastbourne, talked about his wife of seven years, Rachel Harry, twenty-five. He described her as a quiet woman, whom he supported as a stay-at-home wife because she suffered from severe anxiety and who had recently exhibited what he described as ‘extensive mental health issues’. The police were investigating. ‘Please come home, Rachel,’ Steven Harry was quoted as saying in a direct appeal facilitated by the paper. ‘I’m worried about you. You need help. Please let us know where you are.’ The piece was accompanied by a photograph of Steven, holding up a photograph of his wife.
She was younger by some years, but it was clearly the Rachel he knew as Rachel Talbot, manager of the Lighthouse Bookshop.
Toby read two further articles with trepidation. The police had concluded that there was no evidence that foul play was involved, and that Rachel left the home of her own accord which, as an adult, she had every right to do. Steven Harry enunciated his outrage at their lack of concern for a vulnerable woman and vowed to keep searching for as long as it would take him to find her. The third article, six months after Rachel’s disappearance, featured speculation about Beachy Head and an eyewitness who had reportedly seen a woman of Rachel’s description up on the cliffs the day she disappeared. Harry himself promised never to give up hope. ‘If she’s out there,’ he promised. ‘I will find her.’