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Chapters (53)
  1. The Source
  2. Dedication
  3. Contents
  4. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  5. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1996
  6. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  7. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1996
  8. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  9. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1996
  10. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  11. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1996
  12. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  13. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1996
  14. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  15. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1996
  16. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  17. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1996
  18. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  19. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1997
  20. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  21. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1997
  22. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  23. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1997
  24. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  25. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1997
  26. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  27. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1997
  28. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  29. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1997
  30. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  31. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1997
  32. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  33. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1997
  34. Carly ~ Warchester ~ 1998
  35. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  36. Carly ~ London ~ 2001
  37. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  38. Carly ~ London ~ 2001
  39. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  40. Carly ~ London ~ 2001
  41. Marie ~ Just outside Warchester ~ 2006
  42. Carly ~ London ~ 2001
  43. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  44. Carly ~ Deptford ~ 2002
  45. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  46. Marie ~ Deptford ~ 2004
  47. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  48. Marie ~ London ~ 2005
  49. Marie ~ London ~ 2006
  50. Marie ~ London ~ Six months later
  51. Acknowledgements
  52. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  53. Copyright

Shopfronts scud past with my thoughts – one step, another, then another. Sooner or later, Marie will be the one with the fuller story, the longer history; the one with a home, a job, a life, a real existence. Except now I know how much of it is built on lies, and who knows how many other promises were broken along the way? What of Kayleigh, and all the promises made to her? I dig knuckles into my eyes as Dominic’s photo flashes up again, no longer Kayleigh, now only ever Baby Girl A – all I have left is to scream, bitter as the wind, right into a crowd giggling and stumbling next to me. That’s the worst part of all. Now I know I’ve been helping them. All this time, they’ve kept me on the wrong side. All this time, I’ve been helping them hide the fact they broke every promise they made to both of us.

Trafalgar Square opens up wide around me as I shake my head till my neck throbs, but still I can’t get it off. I have to let it go, let her go, I don’t know who she is anymore, even whether her name is still Katie. Her many faces, real and imagined, warp and change in front of me as I push forward, one step, then another. Teenagers brush past, all bobble hats and fingerless gloves, hooting and laughing … Could one be her? And how would I know if it was? I’ve got no chance at life without keeping hold of Marie, without keeping hold of myself. It’s the only way I know how to belong, how to tell other people’s stories instead of my own. I search any blonde-framed face I can see, grins freezing as they find me haunted and staring, then turning away in disgust.

Chatter and bustle rises and falls as I keep walking, one step, then another, Carly still hovering like a sprite on my shoulder. Would we look the same to anyone who knew? Suddenly I’m sure I can feel her white-blonde hair wisp below my short, dark crop. I stumble as I pull at it, blinking the same watery blue eyes, tracing 184a finger over my nose, remembering the freckles don’t lie. The square leads to another traffic light, another corner, before I find pause to remind myself. At least I know what I have to do to bury it all. At least I still have one way left that never fails.

My stomach churns in anticipation as I turn the final corner. And finally I’m blinking into supermarket strip lights, where even at midnight it’s as bright as noon. Carly’s gone. There’s nowhere for her to hide in here.