BooksBarbecue
Back The Midnight Man Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Contents
  3. Copyright
  4. Praise for Caroline Mitchell
  5. Also by Caroline Mitchell
  6. Dedication
  7. Epigraph
  8. Prologue
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 4
  13. 5
  14. 6
  15. 7
  16. 8
  17. 9
  18. 10
  19. 11
  20. 12
  21. 13
  22. 14
  23. 15
  24. 16
  25. 17
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. Epilogue
  68. Acknowledgements
  69. About Caroline Mitchell
  70. About Embla Books

‘Won’t she want to keep that?’ Sarah said.

‘No. She won’t.’ Christian looked at her, an edge of bitterness in his tone. ‘Because Mom doesn’t have any family – only me.’ His cheeks inflamed, he finally looked Sarah in the eye. ‘She doesn’t have any friends either, so don’t pretend that you care.’ His gaze fell on the cheap ornaments lining the shelves next to her bed. ‘I’d like you to go now. I’ve got a lot to do.’ He turned his back on her, his head bowed as he retreated from the conversation.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ll … I’ll leave you to it then.’ A wave of guilt washed over her. He was right. It was a bit late to show concern, but she did genuinely care. ‘I’ll visit her as soon as I can.’

In the absence of a reply, she let herself out the front door. Black bags were piled up next to the green recycling bin, their contents spilling onto the path. Bending, she picked up some worn-looking romance books. Elsie had always been a bookworm. A sad smile graced her face as she flicked through the stained pages … tea, ketchup, cake crumbs between the folds. Carefully, she placed them back into the bag, picking up an A5 journal from the ground. ‘The Country Girl Romance Series by Caroline Brookes,’ she said softly, tracing a finger over the words. She opened the pages, all handwritten. It seemed Caroline Brookes was a pen name. Had Elsie written this? Giving one quick glance towards the door, she slipped the journal beneath her coat.

She had only driven half a mile up the road before she pulled the car over. Switching off the engine, she heaved a heavy sigh. Elsie had seemed so hopeful the last time they spoke, and now she could be about to die.

Her glance fell on the journal resting on the passenger seat. Why had she taken it? More to the point, why was Christian dumping Elsie’s things? Was it really in an effort to clean the place up? Clearing her throat, she began to flick through the pages.

‘Elsie, you dark horse,’ she said with a sniffle. It seemed that Elsie, for all her prudish ways, was a romance writer. And quite a raunchy one at that. She’d been writing a chapter a day. Each one was interspersed with notes, doodles and updates. Elsie was living vicariously through her books. Sarah flicked through the journal, stopping on a heavily dog-eared page. The words that were scrawled across it were tear-stained.

‘Silence, close your eyes, kneel. Silence, close your eyes, kneel. Silence, close your eyes, kneel.’ Written again and again, until the words blurred into one. She stared in disbelief at the scribbles. This was a freehand outpouring of emotion – but what did it mean?

35