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
‘You,’ the woman repeated. ‘This is private property. How dare you set up home here?’
‘All right, all right,’ Gilly said. ‘I needed somewhere to sleep, that’s all. I’ll go. Let me take my tent and—’
‘What, so you can trespass somewhere else?’ The woman laughed. ‘Not likely.’
She put a hand into her pocket and pulled out a small utility knife. Gilly saw what she was going to do a split second before the woman flicked open the blade.
‘No! Wait—’
She stabbed the blade into the flimsy wall of the only place Gilly had to call home and ripped. The sound of tearing fabric formed a baseline to the uneven overtone of freshly falling rain. Rage clenched Gilly’s hands into fists.
‘You colossal bitch!’
‘Get out of here,’ said the woman. ‘You’re lucky I haven’t already called the police.’
‘I want my sleeping bag.’
‘Tough. My land, my property. If I see you here again it’ll be the least of your worries, understand?’
Gilly hesitated, not because she was thinking of staying but because she had no idea what to do next. She had nowhere to go. The tent had at least represented a fixed point, and now—
The woman was pulling out her phone. ‘Five seconds and I dial 999. Five, four—’
The girl turned and fled back towards the fence. She couldn’t go back to the bookshop. It was almost 5 p.m., the Co-op would be closing soon – the toilet in the main street would be locked soon, too. The pub? She still had enough money for a pint, but she needed every penny she had, more now than ever, and she could only make the pint last for so long, if they were prepared to serve her in the first place.
She had nowhere to go.
She had nowhere to go.
The nearest train station was Great Dunbar. It looked as if she’d be going back to the city after all. Always assuming she could dodge the ticket inspector and jump the barriers. And she’d have to walk there. Ten miles. In the rain.
She emerged onto the hill. The ambulance was standing beside the bookshop entrance, its blue lights still spinning into the air, though the siren was now silent. The colour splashed against the white tower, turning it into a laser show. Gilly could see the bulk of Ezra’s coat, sandy yellow, still hanging in the porch where he’d left it days before. She ran up the hill and yanked it from the hook. Gilly was already fleeing as she struggled into it. She didn’t even take her pack off, she just pulled the heavy layer over the top. It was so big she could get both arms in and then some. It fell to her knees, smelling of someone else. It had a hood and she pulled it over her head, struggling to find the cuffs because her arms were at least four inches too short. The hood fell so low over her forehead that Gilly could barely see. A wearable duvet, one with the added benefit of being waterproof.