‘Thanks. There are times when I’m overwhelmed by everything that’s happened. Living with my mother can be hard. Dad’s still in a bad way. Hugh doesn’t know what to do. Bea and Alannah are confused. Oh, and Julian doesn’t believe in making life easy. But other people have been supportive. Conor and Tess have been amazing.’ She took his hand. ‘And you, obviously … I’m grateful that you’ve been there for me.’

Tom smiled and squeezed Nina’s hand. ‘Where else would I be?’ he said, as they crossed the road and turned towards home.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to my editor Ciara Considine for her enthusiasm, her encouragement – and for making the book better. Thanks also to Hazel Orme for the fabulous copy-edit.

I’m very grateful to everybody at Hachette Ireland, especially Breda Purdue, Joanna Smyth, Ruth Shern and Jim Binchy. A big thank you to Susie Cronin for all of her publicity work.

Thanks to my agent Robert Kirby and also to Kate Walsh at United Agents.

My colleague, Dr Gavin Jennings, provided medical advice, while Sergeant Damian Hogan of the Garda Press Office gave me some guidance on garda matters. Many thanks to them. Obviously, any mistakes are my own.

Huge gratitude to all of the readers, bloggers and booksellers, especially Gwen Allman in The Company of Books in Ranelagh and Eoin Hoctor in Eason’s in Shannon.

I’m incredibly grateful to all of the writers who have been so kind to me, especially the brilliant Patricia Scanlan.

For their support, forbearance and good humour at half five in the morning, thanks to my Morning Ireland colleagues and friends.

Massive thanks to my mother and father, Ruth and Tony English.

Finally, thank you to Eamon Quinn, who’s just the best.

Discover more from Rachael English . . .

We hope you enjoyed reading The Night of the Party.

Read on for an extract from Rachael English’s latest rich and heartbreaking novel, The Letter Home . . .

Prologue

She opened her eyes and tried to adjust to the dark. Give it a minute, she thought. If you don’t panic, the light will come. There was always a sliver of light, a crack, however thin, that made it possible to see different shades of black and grey. While waiting for it to appear, she breathed in slowly. She paused before breathing out, but the world around her remained a seamless black.

For a strange, confusing moment, she wondered if she was dead. Was this dark place, wherever it was, the other side? Then she felt a slight, almost imperceptible, movement. It was followed by a shout. A man’s voice. The noise was coming from outside. She remembered where she was and why she was there.