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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

‘Listen to me, you can, and you will. You’re my special girl.’ Gently, Mummy steered me inside, her quick, panicked breath against my face as she kissed my cheek. The stairwell creaked.

‘Not a sound,’ Mummy reiterated, her face ravaged by fear. As I stood at the back of the wardrobe, she gently closed the door. I peered through a crack in the wood as the key turned in the lock. There was a soft click as the key was extracted, and in the dark, I made out my mother’s outline as she left the room. But what about Robin? I bit on my knuckles to stop the scream erupting from my throat. I already knew the answer. Robin was dead.

Leaden feet climbed the stairs. My mother’s screams were cut dead as another shot ripped through the night. As each door on the landing was flung open, I counted the shots so far. The first shot had been for Robin. Then Grandad. Then Granny. Then Mummy … and now he was coming for me. The thought was too horrific for my young mind to contemplate. The light left the room as the moon dipped behind a cloud, and I struggled to make out my father’s form as he entered. His footsteps were steady and methodical. Every instinct told me to call out to him. Daddy wouldn’t hurt me. He would keep me safe. But my mother’s warning lingered. The gun hanging from his arm, he grunted as he checked beneath the bed. The metal hangers jingled above me as I recoiled from his presence. It seemed like the loudest sound in the world as Daddy’s footsteps stilled.

His voice seemed different as he called my name; robotic, void of emotion. A sob escaped my throat, betraying my presence in the room. I flattened myself against the sides of the wardrobe as a strong hand rattled the door. I held my breath. Silence. Police sirens screamed in the distance. A tiny flicker of hope. But as I peered through the crack in the wardrobe, all hope died. My view was consumed by the barrel of his gun. I remember the floorboard creaking. There was a sudden, blinding flash. I was swallowed by the dark.

That was the day I died, and I haven’t left Blackhall Manor since.

1

Thursday, 31st October 2019

Sarah chased her peas around her plate with her fork, wondering if fish fingers and chips were more nutritious than the ready meals she had been eating all week. The air fryer was marginally better than the microwave – wasn’t it? She prodded the limp fish finger. To think, some poor creature gave up its life to end up like this.