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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

‘Creepers creeping.’ Elliott’s voice seemed to surprise them, and he caught his mother’s warning glance. But the lady with the notebook didn’t seem to mind. She had curious eyes, like he was in a story she was trying to read. That’s what he did too. People, things, places – they were all part of stories. He could tell if people were happy or sad, just by looking at them. Smiles meant nothing, they were like the jumpers you wore for school. You put them on because you had to. He watched his mother’s friend intently; she seemed sad behind her smile.

The Midnight Man is coming …

The words swept over his mind, invoking a shiver. He was so tired of all the black things in his head. He watched Maggie and the lady chat and laugh as she scribbled in her notebook. ‘It’s been too long. I’ll call you soon,’ Maggie said, as she rose to leave. ‘Have a proper catch-up.’

‘I’d like that,’ Sarah replied. ‘I’m free most evenings.’ She meant it, he could tell because her eyes sparkled. She seemed happier than when she first got here. ‘How’s Lewis?’ Sarah said, glancing at a picture of him in his army uniform.

Maggie said he was doing well. Sometimes grown-ups said one thing and meant another. Elliott knew his mum didn’t want him to feel sad. Maggie glanced down at him. ‘Elliott is minding his medal until he comes home.’

Elliott smiled at his mother as she ruffled his hair. But he’d heard Maggie talking on the phone to the hospital. Daddy wasn’t getting better.

Maggie returned her attention to her friend. ‘Hang on, let me give you my new mobile number.’ Maggie walked out to the kitchen to search for a pen. Elliott had turned inwards. His chest was rising and falling with the speedy beat of his heart. The Midnight Man is coming … his lips thinned as the words threatened to spill. Insistent knocks on the door of his consciousness. He saw a flash of a bloodstained knife and took a sudden breath.

‘Everything OK?’ Sarah said, a little crease on her forehead.

The words climbed up his throat and were out before he could stop them. ‘The Midnight Man is coming,’ he blurted, feeling instant relief. ‘The angel is dead.’ Sarah stared, the colour draining from her face.

‘Wha … sorry, what did you say?’

Elliott took two steps backward. He had said too much. The woman fixed a smile as Maggie reappeared, her hand rising to adjust her fringe. Elliott scurried out of the room.

‘Elliott? Where are you off to in such a hurry?’ his mum said, as he bounded away.

‘I think he’s shy,’ he heard Sarah say, keeping his secret. Had he done the right thing? He had to tell, despite what his mother had said. Because this was just the beginning. There was worse to come.

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