Chapters (64)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Five Years Later
- 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
- Fifty-four
- Fifty-five
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- Canelo Crime
- About the Author
- Also by Sheila Bugler
The truth was, she couldn’t wait for him to go. Apart from the occasional reference to Nick’s murder, Adam had spoken about little else except this meeting about his forthcoming TV series. Normally, Clodagh found his enthusiasm endearing. This evening, in the light of what had happened to Nick, it was offensive. More than once, she’d almost snapped and told him how selfish he sounded. But she didn’t snap, because she knew he deserved whatever success he was enjoying these days. He’d worked so hard to get where he was.
She’d met Adam during her final year at university in Dublin. Through some mutual friends, they ended up in the same shared house and had struck up an easy friendship. Back then, Adam was a struggling crime fiction writer supplementing his meagre writer’s income by teaching some creative writing modules at the university. Unable to find work in the UK, a friend had put him touch with someone at the university and he’d moved to Ireland. He was funny, unassuming and passionate about crime fiction. Clodagh had had the mother of all crushes on him and, for a time, had thought her feelings might be reciprocated. But then she’d introduced him to her sister and those illusions were well and truly shattered.
‘They sound really keen to press ahead with the show.’ Adam paused to take a sip of wine. He was drinking more than usual tonight, Clodagh noted, wondering if that was due to excitement about the new TV show or shock at finding out Nick had been murdered. ‘It’s going to be huge, Clodagh. A proper game-changer.’
The TV series was to be a new Saturday night chat show. Hosted by Adam, the series would feature in-depth interviews with all sorts of famous people about their lives. According to Adam, the programme’s USP (which, he’d had to explain to Clodagh, stood for ‘unique selling point’) was that it would only feature a single guest each week.
‘A bit like Piers Morgan’s Life Stories,’ Adam had explained, ‘but without all the arse-licking. Not just the same tired old celebrities they roll out on every chat show, either. I’m going to make sure we include writers, politicians, thought leaders, a whole range of people you don’t normally see on mainstream TV but who really should be there.’
Clodagh had never watched Piers Morgan’s Life Stories and doubted she ever would. She wished she could share Adam’s enthusiasm, but she’d never been able to understand the allure of fame. She’d seen with Vivienne how intrusive it was to live your life in the public eye. Clodagh couldn’t imagine anything more dreadful than never knowing who was watching you or having people secretly taking photos of you when you least expected it.
But if it was what Adam wanted, she should try, at least, to be pleased for him.