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Back What I Did Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-One
  25. Twenty-Two
  26. Twenty-Three
  27. Twenty-Four
  28. Twenty-Five
  29. Twenty-Six
  30. Twenty-Seven
  31. Twenty-Eight
  32. Twenty-Nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-One
  35. Thirty-Two
  36. Thirty-Three
  37. Thirty-Four
  38. Thirty-Five
  39. Thirty-Six
  40. Thirty-Seven
  41. Thirty-Eight
  42. Thirty-Nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-One
  45. Forty-Two
  46. Forty-Three
  47. Forty-Four
  48. Forty-Five
  49. Forty-Six
  50. Forty-Seven
  51. Forty-Eight
  52. Forty-Nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty-One
  55. Fifty-Two
  56. Fifty-Three
  57. Fifty-Four
  58. Fifty-Five
  59. Fifty-Six
  60. Fifty-Seven
  61. Fifty-Eight
  62. Fifty-Nine
  63. Sixty
  64. Sixty-One
  65. Sixty-Two
  66. Sixty-Three
  67. Sixty-Four
  68. Sixty-Five
  69. Sixty-Six
  70. Sixty-Seven
  71. Sixty-Eight
  72. Sixty-Nine
  73. Seventy
  74. Seventy-One
  75. Seventy-Two
  76. Seventy-Three
  77. Seventy-Four
  78. Seventy-Five
  79. Seventy-Six
  80. Seventy-Seven
  81. Seventy-Eight
  82. Seventy-Nine
  83. Eighty
  84. Epilogue
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Extract from To Keep You Safe
  87. About the Author

With Miriam’s help, I flagged over a police officer – reluctant to leave my car with Jack still asleep inside. The police officer briefly spoke to me, but could only confirm that the building was now empty of people. She took my contact details and asked me a few basic questions, but since I hadn’t been in the building since Friday, I was of little interest.

I’m sure some decent stand-up citizens would’ve shared their concerns about their son being the arsonist, but despite loving those who’d died in the fire, I didn’t even consider it – not least because I couldn’t, quite, believe it.

After she’d gone, Miriam and I continued our watch over Sunningdale. We held hands as we witnessed the battle between the gallant fire brigade and the callous flames. I think, really, as we clutched each other, we both wanted to hold the residents’ hands, but they were all gone, transported away in ambulances. We wanted to help, desperate to do something, but it seemed that the only thing left was to keep our beloved Sunningdale company as it burnt, so it didn’t suffer alone.

So as Jack slept, we stood our watch, hands entwined, waiting out the night as the fire grumbled on, until the sun finally rose and the fire, like our hope, had finally died out.

Forty-Eight

forty-eight:

– now –

The countryside, which I’ve learnt never truly sleeps, is still strangely silent. Now that the woman at the farm, Erica, has slammed her front door against me, it feels like it’s been watching our exchange and is now holding its breath: waiting. What’s your next move, Lisa?

There’s no sound of dogs; no sound of a Land Rover coming back from wherever the horses are; no sound of a whinny which might suggest proximity; no sounds of voices.

We are alone.

Circling the house, I find just what I need – a large window onto what is clearly the sitting room. The curtains are still open, giving me a clear view into the unlit room. Erica’s not in there. I wonder where she is. I speculate whether she’s called her parents, but decide probably not; after all, she’s an adult with a shotgun and I am only an injured middle-aged woman on my own asking for help who’s already been told to ‘fuck off’. I stand on the periphery of the window waiting . . . watching, for a sign of movement, a sign of anything that might make me pause from what I’m about to do.

I’ve always been too spontaneous: Nick used to tell me so often. But I’m not planning on hanging around; I’ll be gone just as soon as I find the plan B.