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Back The Sleepover Save as PDF
Chapters (72)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. PROLOGUE
  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. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. EPILOGUE
  69. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  70. MORE FROM KERI BEEVIS
  71. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  72. About Boldwood Books

She tried to force the images from her mind. There was nothing she could do about the message tonight and dwelling on the past was going to send her crazy. She didn’t want to tell Rosie and risk panicking her further. The two of them were safe together inside her flat, and she had deadbolted the door. Tomorrow she would speak to the police again.

She tried to settle herself back down, this time leaving the light on, hoping it would chase the shadows away, but when she did eventually find sleep, the dark memories of Hixton pushed back to the surface.

26

2002

‘What are you doing in here?’

Hannah’s eyes widened as Bill blocked the doorway to the garage.

She had been after one of the old towels Mrs W kept in here, needing something to wipe the wet seat of the swing that hung from the old oak tree down by the pond. After three weeks of dry heat, the heavens had finally opened last night and everything was now soaked.

She had been trying to avoid Bill since the incident she had witnessed in the farmhouse bedroom, unable to forget the look of humiliation on his face. It wasn’t always easy though.

Hannah had a feeling that what she had seen wasn’t quite right, but what was she supposed to do about it? Mrs W was an adult, Hannah still just a child, just thirteen years old. If she told anyone what had happened, would Mrs W really admit to what she had done? Worse yet, if she was confronted, she would know Hannah had told on her.

She had been lovely to Hannah and her friends, allowing them to hang out on the farm, feeding them treats and always there with a friendly word. But that day in the bedroom, it was as if a mask had slipped and Hannah couldn’t help worry that there was perhaps a not-so-nice side to her.

The following day she had tried to persuade her friends to go somewhere different. There was the woods and the old bridge. It was unfair to keep imposing on Mrs W, she’d argued.

Her suggestion hadn’t gone down well, the others lured by whatever goodies would be on offer at the farm, and she had been overruled.

Since then, she had hung in the background, trying to appear invisible to both Mrs W and Bill, terrified that one of them would say something about what she had seen or tell her off for snooping.