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Back Under a Dark Cloud Save as PDF
Chapters (77)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Part 1
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. Part 2
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. Part 3
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. Acknowledgements
  74. Next in Series
  75. Canelo Crime
  76. About the Author
  77. Also by Louisa Scarr

Freya looks at the texts. She knows Josh would have seen the notification showing that it’s been read, but she’s not sure how to respond.

‘Josh,’ she replies. ‘About the case.’

Robin nods and goes back to his crisps, taking them off her and balancing them precariously in his lap, one hand on the wheel. There’s a fine layer of crumbs down his jumper now, a greasy trail on his fingers.

She looks at the message again, then reaches over and takes the packet, putting the last crisp in her mouth.

‘Hey!’ Robin protests.

‘You’ve had enough.’

She thinks about Josh. She finds him attractive, when he’s not being a dick as her superior officer. She enjoyed the night out, too. But his reputation as a bit of a player precedes him. And to put her heart on the line, go out with someone again? She’s not sure she’s ready.

So she leaves the message unanswered. And as she looks out of the windscreen, the sign comes into view.

They’ve arrived in the village of Kingskerswell, Devon. Where Robin and Finn grew up.

31

Robin feels strange as they drive down roads, past houses and landmarks that he knows so well. Past the Sloop Inn on the corner; the primary school he and Finn went to. The football field and the cricket pavilion where he spent his days, and the playpark where he and Finn and the other teenagers spent their evenings, drinking cider. Everything seems odd and familiar, all at once.

He pulls into the car park of the pub and brushes the crisp crumbs off his front.

‘Where’s the library?’ Freya asks, and Robin points to the small low building on the other side of the road. ‘It’s tiny. Are you sure they’ll have what we need?’

‘I spoke to them yesterday,’ Robin confirms. ‘They were going to get them in.’

Sure enough, when they arrive, they’re greeted warmly by the librarian on duty: an older lady with short grey hair, a neat cardigan and a necklace made out of colourful oversized buttons. She smiles tenderly when Robin introduces himself.

‘I remember you, Robin Butler,’ she says. ‘I taught both you and your sister when you were little.’

‘You did?’ Robin struggles to gain any recognition from her lined face.

‘Mrs French.’

‘Oh… no.’ Robin remembers a serious woman, playing piano in assembly, unsuccessfully trying to teach him how to sing in primary school. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he tries again. ‘Music was not my forte.’