Chapters (118)
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- 1
- Chapter 2
- 2
- Chapter 3
- 3
- Chapter 4
- 4
- Chapter 5
- 5
- Chapter 6
- 6
- Chapter 7
- 7
- Chapter 8
- 8
- Chapter 9
- 9
- Chapter 10
- 10
- Chapter 11
- 11
- Chapter 12
- 12
- Chapter 13
- 13
- Chapter 14
- 14
- Chapter 15
- 15
- Chapter 16
- 16
- Chapter 17
- 17
- Chapter 18
- 18
- Chapter 19
- 19
- Chapter 20
- 20
- Chapter 21
- 21
- Chapter 22
- 22
- Chapter 23
- 23
- Chapter 24
- 24
- Chapter 25
- 25
- Chapter 26
- 26
- Chapter 27
- 27
- Chapter 28
- 28
- Chapter 29
- 29
- Chapter 30
- 30
- Chapter 31
- 31
- Chapter 32
- 32
- Chapter 33
- 33
- Chapter 34
- 34
- Chapter 35
- 35
- Chapter 36
- 36
- Chapter 37
- 37
- Chapter 38
- 38
- Chapter 39
- 39
- Chapter 40
- 40
- Chapter 41
- 41
- Chapter 42
- 42
- Chapter 43
- 43
- Chapter 44
- 44
- Chapter 45
- 45
- Chapter 46
- 46
- Chapter 47
- 47
- Chapter 48
- 48
- Chapter 49
- 49
- Chapter 50
- 50
- Chapter 51
- 51
- Chapter 52
- 52
- Chapter 53
- 53
- Epilogue
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- Read more
- Read more
- BRISTOL DAILY NEWS
- October 2018
- THE BEGINNING
I jump at the sound of Ted’s voice by my shoulder. He’s as stealthy as a bloody cat. I place my hand on my chest theatrically. ‘I was just seeing what information I could get but her privacy settings are too tight.’ I don’t want him thinking I’m skiving by being on Facebook.
‘Fuck.’ He draws breath through his teeth. ‘We need something. Come on, Jess. Where’s that killer instinct you’re famous for?’ I cringe, remembering how it could have landed me in prison. ‘You know the family. You have an in. The Daily News and the fucking nationals are all over this story and it’s already Wednesday. It’ll be just a matter of time before this photo hits the red tops. We need something more. We need an exclusive.’
He’s right. I can’t let what happened at the Tribune put me off. It’s shaken my confidence, but I need this. I push back my chair and gather up my coat and bag. ‘I’ll try Margot again.’
‘Good.’ His eyes glint. ‘And remember, do whatever it takes. But stay the right side of the law.’
Despite myself, my stomach drops as I pull into Cowship Lane, oppressed by the narrow road with the hedges rearing up on either side. Dark clouds gather in the distance, heavy with rain. I take a deep breath. This isn’t just some random woman I’m trying to interview. It’s Margot Powell. But before last year would that have bothered me? I don’t think so.
Up ahead I can see cars blocking the exit to Tilby Manor Caravan Park as well as a local TV news station’s van. I slow down. There is just enough room for me to pass but I can’t get into the driveway. Has Margot decided to speak to the press after all? I can just imagine Ted’s wrath if that’s the case. He hired me despite my previous history because he thought, no doubt, there would be something to gain from my tenacity. I can’t let him down.
I park in a lay-by further along the lane and walk up, trying to look confident. I pull my bag further onto my shoulder as I approach the small gathering of journalists. ‘There’s no point,’ I say, in a loud, clear voice. ‘She won’t talk to you. She’s signed an exclusive with me.’