The Woman Next Door
Contents (37)
The Woman Next Door
Natasha Boydell
Copyright © 2021 Natasha Boydell
The right of Natasha Boydell to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in 2021 by Bloodhound Books.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.bloodhoundbooks.com
Print ISBN 978-1-914614-43-9
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
A note from the publisher
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The Missing Husband
1
Sophie rested her head against the soft rim of the paddling pool and looked up at the cloudless sky. In the distance she could see the white undercarriage of an aeroplane as it flew over London. She imagined the passengers inside; snoozing, reading or watching a video, as they headed off on business trips or holidays to far-flung destinations. She started to move her arm out of the water so that she could trace the contrails with her finger but changed her mind. It was too much effort. Instead, she observed her hand on the surface of the water, sandwiched in between a fallen leaf and a dead, floating fly.
She was sweating. The once ice-cold hosepipe water in the paddling pool had been warmed up by the sun and beads of liquid trickled down her face. She reached for her cola on the grass beside her, pressing the chilled can to her forehead for a minute before opening it and drinking in great gulps. When she was satisfied, she put the can back down and watched her feet for a while. They were poking out of the water at the other end of the pool, the weeks-old coral-coloured nail varnish peeling off at the top of her toenails. She should remove it but she was just so… so what? Hot? Tired? Lazy? Lethargic, that’s what she was. Lethargic.