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Back The Lucky Eight
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

When he’d gone, Clodagh went for a long walk across the downs. She’d been planning to get a taxi to the beach for a swim, but she’d spotted two journalists loitering at the end of the driveway and she hadn’t been able to face having to pass them. Instead, she’d slipped out the back gate and started walking. By early afternoon, she had covered over ten miles and could easily have done another ten. The countryside here was stunning. She had explored little parts of it when Vivienne was alive, but she’d got to know it a lot better since moving here. The area never failed to surprise her. Rolling green fields with far-reaching views across the English Channel; ancient woodland and picture-postcard villages untouched by time. Because Adam worked so hard, she spent a lot of time alone. Over the last nine months, Clodagh had learned to love these solitary walks across the downs to the different villages nestled between the hills.

Walking helped her to think and today, more than ever, she needed to get her thoughts in order. The fear of having lied to the police was physical, a tightness in her chest and stomach that no amount of walking could ease.

She wished she could talk to Adam, but she’d never told him what she’d done and it was too late to do that now. There was someone she could talk to, though. Pulling her phone out of her bag, she called Ivan. When she got his voicemail, she frowned. This was the third time she’d called him over the last few days. Each time, the call had gone straight to voicemail. So far, he hadn’t returned any of her calls.

‘Me again,’ she said. ‘Sorry if it seems like I’m harassing you. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I was interviewed by the police yesterday and… oh never mind. Just call me, Ivan, would you?’

‘Stupid Croat,’ she muttered, hanging up. Where the hell was he? She wanted to see him and hug him and smack his big, moustached face and make him tell her why he wasn’t returning her calls. More than anything, she wanted to hear his laugh, because there were few things in this world that made her feel as good as the sound of that belly laugh.

She noticed the new voicemail message on her screen. The irritatingly chirpy recorded voice told her she had two new messages. The first was from Bella, asking if Clodagh was still okay to meet up tomorrow. She’d called yesterday, full of apologies for the way Simon had behaved on Monday. Clodagh had told her there was no need to apologise, and they’d arranged for Bella to come over to Clodagh’s for a proper catch-up. Clodagh sent a quick text now, telling Bella she was looking forward to seeing her. Then she moved onto the second message.