Unable to say anything else, Liv gulped the bubbly liquid and found some music on her phone. To stop herself from crying, she waltzed around the room, spraying Fracas onto her neck and wrists. As she sashayed, she picked up Essie’s green scarf and tied it into her hair. Dancing did little to stop all her questions rearing up again and they crawled in Liv’s head like wasps swarming out of their nest. She couldn’t understand why Essie had asked her to complete Book Twenty, especially as they’d only just started talking together properly, and there was a draft copy of the manuscript sitting on a bookshelf. Why keep Essie’s death a secret until the first of November? How was Liv going to do this?

She carried the champagne bottle and glass into the award room. Picking up the manuscript once more she flicked through it, her eyes skimming the pages.

Essie’s writing became messier as her work progressed, and Liv peered closer, trying to make out some of the more indecipherable words. There were lots of sentences crossed out and scrawled notes in the margins.

When she reached the last page, Liv frowned and her mouth dried. The end chapter was numbered thirty-two, but that couldn’t possibly be right. Each Georgia Rory novel was forty chapters long. She pulled a few of Essie’s other books off the shelf and checked their length to confirm she was correct. When it became apparent the last eight chapters of the manuscript were missing, Liv slumped a shoulder against the wall.

The author’s novels always followed the same structure. In their last fifth, Georgia found herself in increasing amounts of trouble, until all seemed lost and she was on the verge of defeat. That’s when she dug deep and found reserves of pluckiness and skill. She teamed up with a love interest to turn the tables on the bad guys. Georgia won a battle against the odds, and had some kind of epiphany, before riding off into the sunset with the man of her dreams. She gave young girls a role model to aspire to, and adult readers a global adventure their own nine-to-five lives didn’t allow. Georgia was brave and ballsy, a writer and intrepid adventurer who lived and loved with abandon. Liv wished she had half her bravery.

Liv drank another glass of champagne and shook her head. Trying to complete Essie’s book was a stupid impossibility, especially with a big chunk of it missing.

With an urge to find out if the absent chapters existed, she began to hunt around the apartment, sliding books off shelves, opening drawers and cupboard doors. She always cleaned thoroughly and didn’t recall seeing another chunk of paper anywhere. Could the missing work be in Essie’s yellow notebook?