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Back The Missing Wife Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. THE MISSING WIFE
  2. PRAISE FOR SAM CARRINGTON
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. THE EPILOGUE
  58. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  59. Prologue
  60. Chapter One
  61. Chapter Two
  62. About the Author
  63. By the same author
  64. About the Publisher

Having finally paired all the children with their respective adults, Anna flitted around the classroom clearing away the activities, tutting at the globs of slushy, sticky newspaper remnants now clinging to the tables like shit to a blanket. As she picked at some of the hardened paper, Muriel’s words played out in her head.

Something’s wrong, Anna. Something is very wrong.

Anna had sighed at her mother’s words, wondering what melodrama was about to unfold. But her gut had twisted as Muriel carried on with her story.

Now, washing and drying her hands with the small, rough towel, Anna decided she’d have to ring James and get him to have Carrie for the night despite it not being his turn. The journey to Mapledon would only take an hour or so, but she didn’t want to take Carrie there – didn’t want her dragged into whatever was going on – if anything. Her mother could be over-reacting, that’d been her MO even when Anna was a child and before old-age shenanigans took over. But just in case, it would be better to go alone.

Grabbing her bag, she shouted goodbye to the remaining teachers, swept out of the building and climbed into her car. Her blue Escort spluttered into life and she drove out of the school gate. With a heavy weight sitting in her belly, she turned right, joining the traffic that would take her to the A38.

Her mother’s words continued to repeat themselves inside her mind as she drove:

There was such a racket at the front of the house, it scared me half to death. When I mustered the courage to go out there, I found it.

Found what, Mum?

The doll’s head. Hammered to my front door.

Chapter Two

2019

LIZZIE

Friday 12th July

The envelope, its corner peeping out from within the clump of mail she’d shoved behind the purple key pot – the one neither of them actually used for their keys, preferring instead to spend stressful minutes searching for the last place they’d flung them – glared at her like an accusation. Lizzie snatched it up, then slammed it down on the counter, taking a step back as though it were a dangerous object about to inflict harm.

Something told her it would do her harm. Its content, anyway. Mentally, not physically. She knew physical pain, had endured years of it growing up in various care homes. She could cope with that; she was hardened to it. Her mental well-being had never caught up, though. That was still fragile, like butterfly wings – delicate, prone to breaking. She had to guard herself from outside factors.

Guard herself from the words the envelope held within.