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Back The Lucky Eight Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Five Years Later
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-one
  26. Twenty-two
  27. Twenty-three
  28. Twenty-four
  29. Twenty-five
  30. Twenty-six
  31. Twenty-seven
  32. Twenty-eight
  33. Twenty-nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-one
  36. Thirty-two
  37. Thirty-three
  38. Thirty-four
  39. Thirty-five
  40. Thirty-six
  41. Thirty-seven
  42. Thirty-eight
  43. Thirty-nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-one
  46. Forty-two
  47. Forty-three
  48. Forty-four
  49. Forty-five
  50. Forty-six
  51. Forty-seven
  52. Forty-eight
  53. Forty-nine
  54. Fifty
  55. Fifty-one
  56. Fifty-two
  57. Fifty-three
  58. Fifty-four
  59. Fifty-five
  60. Epilogue
  61. Acknowledgements
  62. Canelo Crime
  63. About the Author
  64. Also by Sheila Bugler

She moved down the corridor, the woman’s voice growing clearer as Clodagh drew nearer to the closed door. Fear caught at the back of her throat. It was like being back in Tara’s apartment building. Walking along a corridor, knowing something bad was waiting for her on the other side of that closed door. The urge to turn around and run away was powerful, but nothing compared to the need to get into that room.

She twisted the handle and pushed open the door. The woman was still speaking. The lilting rhythms of her voice as familiar as when Clodagh had last heard her speak, over five years ago. She stepped into the room and there she was, on the other side of the room, every detail of her face as perfect and full of life as Clodagh remembered it. Her dead sister, Vivienne.

Thirty-eight

Clodagh didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, before she was able to speak. The shock of seeing her sister’s face, and hearing her voice, had sent her mind spinning out of control. Different explanations came and went, none of them making any sense. Time travel, insanity, an alternative universe. Extracts from old episodes of Doctor Who, a programme she and Vivienne had both loved. Until suddenly, through the haze of confusion, she understood.

Vivienne wasn’t actually here, in the room. She was on the large flatscreen TV that occupied most of one wall in the small bedroom. Gradually, Clodagh realised she recognised the film too. Second Chances, a below average rom-com that had been more successful than it deserved to be.

It was Vivienne’s last film before she’d turned her back on acting to marry Adam. Why had she done that? The question had never occurred to Clodagh before. Now it had, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Vivienne had worked hard for her success. She’d loved the lifestyle that being rich and famous brought her. Yet she’d given it all up. For what? No matter how much Vivienne had loved Adam, no one had forced her to choose between him and her career. If she’d wanted to, she could have had both. Or so Clodagh had always assumed.

‘What are you doing standing inside my bedroom? Are trying to give me a heart attack?’

Ivan’s voice made her jump. She swung around and saw him standing at the top of the stairs, frowning as he looked at her.

‘Ivan…’ She gestured to the TV screen in the bedroom.