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About the Author

Heidi Perks worked as a marketing director before leaving to become a full-time mother and writer. Her first novel, Now You See Her, was a Sunday Times bestseller and a Richard and Judy Book Club pick. Heidi is a voracious reader of crime fiction and thrillers and endlessly interested in what makes people tick. She lives in Bournemouth with her family, where she is writing her next thriller.

Also by Heidi Perks

Also available by Heidi Perks

Now You See Her

Come Back For Me

Dedication

For my mum, for being such a great one.

The Night of the Fire

Monday 13 May

It had taken seven minutes for the first of the fire engines to screech to a halt outside the offices of Morris & Wood, but even by then anyone could have seen it was too late. The fire had coursed through the building at an alarming rate. Red and orange flames were already obscured by a billowing cloud of dark-grey smoke. The sound of breaking glass shattered the air.

She was on the quay across the river from the office, with a perfect view that she no longer wanted, yet couldn’t bring herself to turn away from.

To her right a few people had spilled out of The Star pub and the couple of restaurants nearby. It was a warm evening in mid-May, warm enough to be out enjoying the longer evening even though it was a Monday night.

Most of the onlookers had probably protested against the development of the Morris & Wood offices when plans for the building were first proposed to the council. The development had caused outrage five years ago. Ad hoc meetings set up in cafés and school halls had been attended by angry residents from Lymington and beyond, who refused to allow such an eyesore to be built.

No one, they had said, wants to look across the Lymington River from the beautiful quay and see a monstrosity of a glass office staring back at them. Bloody Londoners, they had murmured among themselves. They are the problem, coming to the south coast from the city, taking over our town.

Only a few months later Harry Wood had had them all eating out of his palm. Well, maybe not all of them, but the ones who counted.

And so the plans had been approved, the building work started. Anyone who knew the first thing about architecture should have been able to see the offices would be a thing of beauty – too much so for an advertising agency perhaps?

By then the same residents had begun to forgive Harry Wood for anything. He had recruited locally, was supporting charities close to their hearts. The Lymington Care Home had never had so many minibuses and outings to the New Forest.

Yet once upon a time some of the people now gawping at the fire, as it continued to ravage the building, might have joked to their friends that they’d have liked to have burned it to the ground themselves. Because even after it was built, when its tall glass front reflected the light from the water, dappled against the setting sun, it still left a bitter taste in the mouths of a few. The ones who saw through people like Harry Wood.

Possibly, she considered, over the course of the next few days the police might wonder if there was any link between those early protestors and the fire.

Her heart beat rapidly at this thought, her eyes scanning the small crowd.

Might they think that? Was it possible the police would focus their attention on something so altogether different from the truth?

She pulled back against the wall, hoping to keep out of sight. Her pulse reverberated through her ears, deafening her to the sounds of the commotion unfurling in front of her eyes.

Three fire engines were now parked haphazardly, at least two police cars that she could see, and now an ambulance was pulling to a halt. The scene played out like a silent movie. She could imagine it unfurling in slow motion, even though the reality was frenzied.

There was a taste of salt on her lips and she licked it away, realising tears had escaped without her knowledge. Clenching her arms across her chest, she wrapped them around herself as tightly as she could, almost folding inwards. Her fingers tingled. If she brought them to her nostrils she would smell the fuel on them. She didn’t think she would ever forget that stench, its potency making her want to retch.

Is this what you wanted? she asked herself.

She pulled a hand away from her chest and held it over her mouth, her mind racing. She tried to imagine what would happen in the morning. How many employees would turn up to find nothing more than a pile of rubble where their precious offices once stood, or if they’d already have been told they no longer had jobs to go to.

Every one of them would no doubt have to speak to the police, tell them what little they knew. She was certain the detectives would be merely scratching the surface when it came to most of the staff, led on a merry dance that took them far away from what had really happened.

There would likely be the odd comment from one or two members of the team who thought they had something of interest to say, but she doubted they’d point the detectives in the right direction.

She focused her gaze on the small gathering of uniforms grouped beside one of the fire engines. A fireman was gesturing, pointing fiercely towards the building, while another one yelled behind him, calling others over. She hadn’t imagined the fire would spread so quickly.

Suddenly it was apparent that something was happening. Something urgent, for even from here she could sense the apprehension in the air. It had darkened somehow, become thicker with foreboding.

Automatically she inched forward until she was trapped in the beam of a street light. Her heart pounded even more heavily against the wall of her chest as she strained to get a better view, edging closer still, along the narrow pathway that ran in front of the waterside houses.

Everything told her she should leave. She should be at home with her family. At some point there would be a call about what had happened and, when it came, that was where she needed to be.

And yet at the same time she couldn’t tear herself away from the scene.

One of the firemen had now stood aside, allowing her a perfect vision of the stretcher on the pavement. A body was being carried out of the burning building, laid upon the stretcher, and then a circle of people closed around it and she could see no more.

Her body felt like liquid, as if at any moment she would melt away and sink into the ground.

What had she done? It had seemed such a perfect solution. But now she could see that it was by no means an end. It was only the beginning. Now she could see that her actions would strip her of everything that was truly important.

Her family.

She clutched her stomach and bent double, retching on the path beside her. Her hands shook violently.

Revenge and anger had blinded her, and now she might very well lose the two most important people in her life. And it was too late to do anything about it.

Tuesday 14 May

Initial interviews between DC Emily Marlow and the staff of Morris & Wood, following the fire on Monday 13 May

Bryony Knight, Account Assistant

Bryony:Is anyone dead?

Marlow:I’m afraid we can’t answer that at this moment.

Bryony:Can’t answer? (pauses) Okay. Well. In answer to your question, I’ve worked there for eighteen months.

Marlow:And who do you report into?

Bryony:Well (laughs), it was Laura Denning, before she went off on maternity leave. Then it was Mia, who replaced her, and now – it’s both of them! It doesn’t really work but … Do you know what’s going to happen? I mean, am I going to carry on getting paid? I’ve got rent to pay and if I can’t work …

Marlow:These are all things you’ll have to ask your Human Resources department. As I’m sure you can appreciate, I’m investigating the fire.

Bryony:I know. I just – well, I can’t afford to lose the money, that’s all.

Marlow:You say you like it there. So you enjoy your job? Have you always been happy at Morris & Wood?

Bryony:Totally. It’s an awesome place to work, I mean the offices are – were, I mean – the offices were amazing. Shit! I can’t believe they’re actually gone. Who could have done it?

Marlow:That’s what we’re trying to ascertain.

Bryony:And you think it was someone who worked there? That’s why you’re interviewing us all?

Marlow:No, I’m not saying that. I’m just trying to build up a picture of what the staff thought of the company, and how you all felt about working for Harry Wood.

Bryony:Well, Harry’s amazing. He’s a totally great boss. Everyone loves working for Harry – you won’t be able to find one person who doesn’t. Harry always stops and talks to you, he’s (laughs) … I don’t know. He’s very good-looking.

Marlow:So, in your opinion, you think everyone believes Harry Wood is a good CEO?

Bryony:Oh God, yeah. I mean, I don’t really know what a CEO does or anything, but if you mean do I think everyone was happy working for him, then as I say, totally. That’s why no one ever leaves.

Marlow:I see someone left very recently. Sarah Clifton?

Bryony:Oh, right, Sarah. Yes, of course. I forgot about her.

Marlow:Do you know why she did?

Bryony:Not for sure, but I heard the rumours.

Marlow:The rumours?

Bryony:Yeah. She had issues with her boss, Mike Lewis. But … well, one day she’d suddenly just gone. She was a very quiet girl. I didn’t even realise she’d left until a week later.

Marlow:Did you hear any other rumours, Miss Knight?

Bryony:Like what?

Marlow:Anything at all.

Bryony:(pauses) There are always rumours in an office that big; it depends which one you mean.

Henrietta James, Senior Account Manager

Henrietta:Harry Wood is a good CEO, I suppose, but I didn’t have much to do with him on a day-to-day basis. Of course all the young girls love him. By ‘young’ I mean the ones in their twenties. Not that I’m old, for God’s sake – I’m only forty-two – but you feel it sometimes, you know? When everyone around you wasn’t even born when you were leaving school (laughs). Anyway, I think they like him because he’s always very nice, and of course he is handsome. Even I can give him that, but I guess they’re blinded at that age, aren’t they?

Marlow:How do you mean blinded? Do you think you saw things they didn’t?

Henrietta:I’m sure I did.

Marlow:Such as?

Henrietta:(sighs) Such as the way he only really has time for his own, I suppose. The people who work directly under him. He makes a show of speaking to us all, of course, but it always feels a little … off. I think he’s happiest when he’s around the board table with the senior directors.

Marlow:Mia Anderson is one of your directors, is that correct?

Henrietta:(nods) That’s right. We have five of them now. There had only ever been four in the whole time I’ve worked there, but Harry kept Mia on. Thank God, if you ask me. It was about time we had someone like Mia.

Marlow:What do mean, ‘someone like Mia’?

Henrietta:A woman at that level we could talk to. You know, she’s only the second woman to sit on the board?

Marlow:Mainly men are appointed?

Henrietta:Oh yes.

Marlow:Do you think this is an issue?

Henrietta:I don’t know. I’ve never really given it much thought before. I always thought it was just the way it is. Women go off and have babies. That’s what they say, don’t they? Take me, I went part-time after having kids, so why would anyone consider me for a promotion?

Marlow:You don’t think you’ll get promoted because you’re part-time?

Henrietta:I know I won’t.

Marlow:Is that the way it is throughout the company?

Henrietta:I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the way Harry does things.

Marlow:I’m not suggesting you are.

Henrietta:I’m not trying to cause trouble or anything. I’m not saying there’s some inequality issue … I never did buy into all the stuff that—

Marlow:Yes?

Henrietta:It doesn’t matter. I’m just saying I don’t want you to start thinking I had any issues. I don’t.

Marlow:I realise that isn’t what you’re suggesting.
     You say it was nice to have Mia Anderson, because you could talk to her. How about Laura Denning? I believe she’s the other director you refer to? The other woman who sits on the board?

Henrietta:She is, but I’ve never really felt comfortable talking to Laura about anything personal. Laura Denning is very – professional, I suppose you would say.

Marlow:Mia Anderson was brought in to cover Laura Denning’s maternity leave?

Henrietta:(nods) Laura went off for six months. She came back two months ago.

Marlow:And yet Mia Anderson is still there? Has this caused any issues, in your opinion?

Henrietta:(laughs) Oh yes, and that’s a whole different story.

Marlow:In what way?

Henrietta:It didn’t go down well at all. The moment Laura Denning walked back in, after she’d had her baby – well, let’s just say we all knew there’d be problems. Yes, I suppose after that, things definitely started to change at Morris & Wood.

Chapter One

Two months earlier

Laura stood in the doorway to the kitchen and watched her husband, Nate, carefully stirring a wooden spoon around a pan that was balanced precariously on the edge of the hob. In his other arm, nestled into his side, was Bobby. Her son’s little head lolled against his dad’s shoulder and every time Nate moved, Bobby sprang up as if he’d been jolted wide awake.

Laura tensed as she waited for her son’s eyes to open. He was fast asleep and while Nate hummed quietly, seemingly oblivious to her standing watching, she felt her eyes moisten.

‘I’m off, then.’ The words left her lips almost silently, but Nate turned immediately and broke into a smile.

‘Hey, gorgeous, you look amazing. And see: it still fits perfectly.’

‘Not really.’ She ran her hands down the front of her shirt. The buttons tugged over her breasts so much so that she’d worn a vest top underneath, even though the offices were always too hot.

Laura had spent more time in front of the mirror in the last hour than she had in the last six months. Her dark hair had been pulled into a ponytail, then let loose, and was now tied in a straggly bun at the base of her neck. She’d chipped flakes of dry mascara off its wand before applying it to her lashes and had added more grey eyeshadow than she’d ever worn to work previously, all in an attempt to feel more confident. And yet she still didn’t know how she’d make it out of the front door.

‘You’re nervous,’ Nate said. ‘You’re bound to be, going back after all this time.’

She shook her head and attempted a smile, biting her lip as she strode over to where he had switched off the hob. ‘I’m going to miss you, little man,’ she whispered into her son’s warm hair, kissing his head, her lips lingering, too afraid to pull away.

She shouldn’t be nervous. She loved her job. Morris & Wood had been her life until Bobby had come along. And yet Laura thought there was every chance she was going to be sick. That it would be a whole lot easier if she called Harry and postponed her return. Just for another week. One more week and then surely she would feel better.

But they had done the maths, and now that her full maternity pay had ended, they were reliant on Laura’s salary to pay for the mortgage they’d excitedly stretched themselves to afford five years ago, when she started working for Harry Wood. They both knew that when Bobby came along, it was Laura who’d return to work full-time because, even putting aside the fact that she out-earned her husband by a significant amount, it was Laura who had the career, who had never been able to imagine life without her job.

Nate was smiling. ‘You’re going to knock ’em all dead. Like you always have.’

‘You’re biased.’

‘I know I am, but I also know how brilliant you are. Particularly with all the work you’ve been doing to prepare,’ he added, nodding at the laptop sticking out the top of her bag. ‘It’ll be like you haven’t been away.’

‘Maybe,’ she replied, her gaze still on Bobby. It was impossible to believe it would ever feel like that. Not when she’d spent the last six months caring for another human being around the clock.

But Nate was right about one thing. She had put in a lot of hours over the last couple of weeks, preparing herself to dive straight back into her biggest accounts. She felt excited to talk to her lead client, Coopers, about ideas for the TV advert they wanted to start work on this summer. They’d been planning to invest heavily in promotion for their new health-drink brand and she’d been so keen to get her teeth into the campaign. Anyway, surely the moment she stepped out of the office lift onto her floor she would stop feeling so nervous.

‘Just go,’ Nate told her, turning back to the porridge on the hob, scooping out a spoonful, which he tipped into a small plastic bowl.

‘You know that’ll be too hot,’ she said. ‘You need to cool it down first. He can’t eat it like—’

‘I know,’ Nate laughed.

‘Call me if anything happens.’

Nate nodded as he pushed the bowl to one side and twisted round to kiss her. ‘Hey!’ He reached out his hand and ran a thumb across her cheek. ‘Why are you crying?’

‘I’m not.’ She pulled back and laughed, swiping a hand against him. ‘I’m just, you know, I haven’t left him in six months.’

‘Well, this guy and I are going to have a blast. As soon as you’re gone, we’re going to vacuum the house and put on a load of washing and then – then we’re off to the park.’

‘Nate, am I doing the right thing?’

‘Yes.’ He took hold of her arm. ‘Of course you are.’

Her stomach felt heavy and twisted. The decision that had always been such a simple one suddenly felt as if it was swamping her. Like she had no other choice. And in that moment Laura wished that Nate’s job in IT paid more than it did. Or that her husband had the same degree of ambition she had.

She quickly shook the thought from her head. Deep down, there was nothing she would change about Nate. They were different, and it worked. Laura had often wanted to be more like him and happily throw dinner parties at a moment’s notice, or not be remotely bothered when the doorbell rang and a visitor showed up uninvited. But she wasn’t that person. She was the one who felt most content when she was controlled and organised; and efficiently running the marketing for a number of clients was something Laura thrived upon. It was why she’d felt she was leaving a part of herself behind, the day she walked out of Morris & Wood to go on maternity leave. And deep down, when she reminded herself of this, she thought how wonderful it would be to find that part again.

Despite this thought, her intermittent tingles of excitement blended with dread as she gazed at her son and told Nate she would be home early. ‘Well, early enough to give him tea, do his bath …’

Nate grinned. ‘Just do whatever you have to, on your first day. I won’t expect you until I see you.’

‘No, but I will,’ she said, looking up at him sharply. ‘I want to.’

‘That’s cool,’ he continued to smile. ‘We’ll look forward to seeing you.’

Of course he probably didn’t believe her, because she’d so rarely got home before seven in the past, but she would prove him wrong. She wasn’t about to let her job take away time with her precious family. She was confident she could make both work, despite what the mums in her NCT group had warned her.

She had brushed off their concerns when, in passing conversation, she’d told them she was returning to work. If anything, she’d wanted to slap the look of horror off Chrissie’s face. Not that she was surprised with Chrissie, who passed judgement on everything from colic to weaning, to when was the right time to stop breastfeeding. But none of them were planning to go back full-time. Even Nancy had said she would only do three days if one of them could be working from home. And certainly none of them had even considered the possibility of going back before their full twelve months were up.

Laura knew what they thought of her. That she clearly didn’t want to spend time with her son. Of course they never said as much, but she could tell that’s what they must think, by the constant hammering of questions, the persistence of wouldn’t she miss him?

Yes, she was going to miss him. What did they think: that she was a bloody robot? Her heart was tearing in two, and she hadn’t even left the house.

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