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
As she stumbled down the hill, the rain began to fall even harder, hitting the hood of Ezra’s jacket with increasing speed. Thwock! Thwock-thwock-thwock-thwock! Gilly ducked her shoulders and headed for the path that led from the base of the hill between the last house in the row and the forest fence. As Gilly reached it, she glanced into the garden of the cottage on the corner. A large shed stood with its back against the fence, and beside the fence was a gate.
Gilly paused. The garden sloped down towards an oblong room that leaned against the cottage. It had long windows that were lit. There was no one in it, but if there had been, they could have easily glanced out and seen her standing at the gate, looking in. She hesitated for a second more, the rain falling hard. Then she was inside the gate, unhooking the latch quickly and quietly, praying that there was no padlock on the shed and then, when there wasn’t, that it would not be so full of junk that she could not fit inside.
The shed was home to a lot of gardening equipment, but there was space, too, a clear patch of dusty wooden floor. Gilly pulled the door shut behind her. The rain drummed onto the roof, so hard now that one strike of rain flowed seamlessly into another. There was a drip coming through the ceiling right at the back of the shed, but at this end the floor was dry. She sat down, putting her back against the wall, her pack still on her back beneath Ezra’s coat. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped the voluminous coat around her, her forehead on her knees. This would do for now. She couldn’t stay, but whoever owned the shed wasn’t going to come out gardening in this, were they? And it was getting dark already. She’d be all right for the night. Tomorrow she’d figure out something else, but for now, this was good enough. Under the coat, she was even beginning to feel warm. Then she remembered the torch from the first time she’d gone through this coat. She patted the pockets and found it. Gilly tested it against the shed wall, low enough towards the floor that the glow wouldn’t be seen out of the building’s single dusty window. Its small beam was powerful, cold and blue-white. She turned it off and hugged her knees, wondering if Cullen at the bookshop was going to be okay.
Down in Corner Cottage, Edie Strang came back into the print room with a fresh mug of tea and a slice of coffee and walnut sponge. She glanced out of the window at the garden, but the light was already fading from the sky, and the only thing she could make out were the streaks of fresh rain against the glass. She had already missed the ambulance departing the lighthouse, trailing flashes of blue into the dark day as it went.