Contents ( 42)
- Dedication
- Contents
- Part One
- The Truth
- 1. May
- 2. May
- 3. June
- Part Two
- Summer Holidays
- 4. July
- 5. August
- 6. October
- Part Three
- Watching the Grown-Ups
- 7. October
- The Night After the Party
- 8. November
- Three Weeks After Ash’s Death
- 9. November
- Part Four
- Damage
- 10. November
- 11. November
- 12. November
- Part Five
- Disguises
- 13. November
- 14. November
- 15. March
- Part Six
- Friendship
- 16. April
- 17. April
- 18. April—Same Day
- 19. May
- 20. December
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Jane Shemilt
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
“The gate’s locked, a child couldn’t possibly—” Eve begins but Melissa races past her and down the path. When she reaches the gate she starts to climb, but Eve catches up and, her bare leg swinging over the gate, knocks Melissa to the ground. When Eve starts screaming a few seconds later the donkeys thunder past her to the fence and stand together, tossing their heads. Eric vaults over the gate, runs across the grass, and wades into the pond, plunging deeper and deeper into the icy water, his arms outstretched to reach his son.
Grace
Martin swerves to avoid the screaming ambulance as it jolts from the drive to the road, blue light flashing. Grace is flung against the passenger door. Martin was wrong, Ash wasn’t hiding, something terrible has happened.
“At least he’s alive,” she mutters. “He must be; you don’t rush to hospital with a blue light if a child has died, or do you?”
Martin frowns but doesn’t answer. They dropped their two off at school just now. Charley, the part in her hair crooked, had walked slowly into the playground, looking serious. Blake disappeared quickly, sneakers undone, lower lip protruding.
“When’s your shift start?” Martin brakes and parks by the curb.
“I’m not working today.” She hasn’t told him she left yet. She didn’t tell him anything she’d planned to; he was too tired when he returned from Eve’s last night. They were so late; he lost track of the kids, he’d explained; it turned out they’d been upstairs, playing games. Today there’s been no time, obviously.
The drive is full of police cars. The front door of the house is wide open; Noah is drinking puddles in the middle of the road.
“Oh, Evie,” Martin mutters.
Evie? That’s new. Grace glances at him; she hasn’t heard him call her that before.
“House left open all hours of the day and night.” Martin pulls Noah off the road by his collar. Grace hurries up the drive and through the back door of the kitchen, Martin following. Melissa is by the sink, kneeling by Sorrel, who is crying into her shoulder, long, shuddering sobs that shake her body. Poppy leans against the wall staring into space, Izzy has her arm around her friend.
Grace bends over Melissa. “Can you please just tell me what’s happened?”
Melissa straightens. Sorrel turns to fling her arms around Martin instead. Melissa follows Grace from the room. They sit together on the stairs in the hall, Melissa whispering with her eyes on the door in case the children emerge.
Grace stares at her in disbelief. “I don’t understand. How did it happen?”
“They think he got up in the night and followed the dog into the garden. The paddock gate is locked but he must have squeezed underneath.” Melissa’s voice trembles. “He’s wandered off before, but never at night. Eve was hysterical. Eric tried mouth to mouth, the ambulance came in minutes. They took over. Eve went with him, Eric followed in the car. We haven’t heard anything since.”