I remembered I’d promised myself that I’d finish writing this damn book. This untitled Scandi noir that was unfolding quite nicely, unlike my miserable life. I owed it to that book – to the little girl in the story, Alexa, who suffered so much – to tell the world her story.

   2   

HAULED IN BY THE THROAT

Now

The train filled with new passengers and started to pull out of Durham station. A couple of younger women sat in the seats in front with their backs to me, continuing a loud conversation about a job that one of them was applying for.

‘But Sophie, do you really want to go to Norway?’ the one in the blue top said.

My ears pricked up. Norway? My novel was set in Norway. Oslo, to be precise. All the other Scandi noir novels I’d read were set there, and the murderously-hostile-but-dramatic Nordic landscape felt very much like the inside of my brain. So in a way, although I’d never been to Norway, the place felt intriguingly familiar.

‘Well, not really,’ Sophie said, ‘but Lucia’s starting school and Philippa said she’ll only need me during the summer holidays. And that’s not enough, is it?’

‘Couldn’t you just get another job during the school term?’ Sophie’s friend countered. ‘And then nanny for Philippa during the summer hols?’

‘I’ve got my application all ready,’ Sophie said, flipping open her laptop and turning it to her friend. ‘All I have to do is click “send”.’

I could see it through the gap between the seats. I leaned forward and saw the white page of a PDF with boxes requesting information about previous employment and a large white section where Sophie had written a statement – in Comic Sans – about why she wanted the job. A sentence began ‘the wellbeing of children is my number one priority’, but I couldn’t make out the rest of it. Just then Sophie’s friend flicked her long black hair over one shoulder, obscuring my view.

‘How long is it for?’ Sophie’s friend whined.

Sophie mumbled a reply, but I didn’t hear, though her friend gasped.

‘You can’t go to Norway for that long!’ she said, horrified. ‘That’s ages.’

‘I know,’ Sophie said sadly, ‘but it’s a great job. Really well paid. All food and board taken care of, super gorgeous locale. They want someone to start right away …’

Now I was really interested. Free food and accommodation in Norway? Well paid? I could feel myself being drawn in – no, hauled in, by the throat – and there was a tingling sensation all over my body that I hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. Kind of like falling in love, only without the certainty that it’s going to end in tears and vile accusations.