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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

‘Of course it does. Like the quirky broken lift and the temperamental heating.’ Rosie kicked off her heels as they reached the top landing, scooping them up in one hand, while she used the other to rub at the ball of her foot. ‘I can’t wait to have a bath. My feet are killing me.’ She frowned. ‘The hot water is working, right?’

She was facing the stairs so hadn’t spotted the man outside Hannah’s front door. Having heard their voices, he had turned to watch them, a faintly amused expression on his face as they approached.

Hannah’s spine stiffened as she pushed past Rosie, her keys ready. She didn’t know him and he didn’t look like he was delivering anything. He had no reason to be here. Unless he had the wrong address.

‘Can I help you?’

‘You’re Hannah Cole, right? Used to be Hannah Freemont?’

Her spine stiffened. He knew her maiden name? Something she wanted to leave firmly in the past. ‘What do you want?’

The man smiled. She suspected he was trying to put her at ease, to let her know he meant her no trouble. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. She knew that smile too well.

‘My name’s Liam Quinn. I’m hoping you can spare me fifteen minutes.’

‘Why?’

If he was taken aback by her coolness, he wasn’t letting on. She was aware of Rosie moving to stand beside her, knew from her silence that she was equally wary.

Quinn rocked back on his heels, studying them both. ‘I’m a writer and I’d really like to talk to you about a book I’m working on.’

He waited a beat, staring directly at Hannah and, when he finally dropped his bombshell, she realised too late, her mouth dropping open in shock, that it had been to gauge her reaction.

‘It’s about Eileen Wickham.’

3

They had deserved it. When it all became too much, Eileen tried to remember that.

At times, it was difficult. The press had painted her as a monster, the judge had called her remorseless, cruel, and evil, stipulating that she would serve her full sentence, and her fellow inmates at HMP New Hall had viewed her with disgust from the start.

Eileen Wickham, or Eileen Wicked if you took notice of the headlines, had quickly understood that she wouldn’t change popular opinion, the press had seen to that, so she had kept her head down, tried her best to stay out of trouble, and served her time. People had already made up their mind about her, so there was little point in trying to sway them.