Chapters (87)
- Cover
- Praise
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- Extract from To Keep You Safe
- About the Author
‘My mother is dead,’ I said, realising how blunt I sounded only after I had said it. She sighed heavily. ‘I need you to call the police,’ I asked, ‘but only after we’ve gone. I can’t . . . be here, it’s not . . .’ I cut a glance at Jack, who was licking his empty fingers with thoughtful, neat licks. ‘You should bolt your door after we go,’ I said, still not looking at her.
She pressed her hand against the wall, as if to steady herself, then said: ‘If you like, I won’t say I’ve seen you – if it’s simpler?’
I could still feel the imprints of the capsules in my throat. I swallowed. My mother was dead. It didn’t feel like this was even happening to me. ‘Thank you. I think . . . Jack and I have to . . . go.’ I turned to look at her. Her glasses were thick, her cheekbones showing that she was still a handsome woman. ‘I can’t risk them holding us back.’
April regarded me from behind the dense lenses with watery eyes. ‘Leave now then, dear, if you need to.’ She patted my hand. ‘I’ll tell them that I found the . . . your mother.’
‘Would you do that for me?’
She looked surprised. ‘Of course.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Wait – I have something that you should have.’ She headed into the kitchenette and took a tin off the top shelf of the cupboard. She pressed it into my hands. ‘Your mother never wanted to keep all her eggs in one basket, she said. She thought it made sense if she kept some emergency money with me. She didn’t trust banks and seemed to think there was a reason that I should look after this for her.’ She pushed the tin at me. ‘It’s quite a lot.’
I pulled the lid off; inside was a thick roll, bigger than my fist, of twenty-pound notes. I stared at April: ‘No, I can’t . . .’
‘But dear, if not you, then who?’
I left the tin on the kitchen side when Jack and I left.
But the money, I took.
Fifty-Nine
fifty-nine:
– now –
Stuck in the fog, it’s impossible to know how to go on. But still stuck for directions, I hear a car in the distance – by its speed, I realise it must be on the Cleasong road. From that, I know I can turn until it’s on my left. But I am still not completely sure, as I know if I’m only a few degrees out, I risk plunging right past my hill. Only a year ago, I wouldn’t believe I could be this lost in the dark, that the countryside could be so empty of light, but I can’t see anything, perhaps only a paler stone here and there, puncturing the sea of dark mud. Help me, Mum. My hand squeezing my gold coin necklace.
The ridges, my mum whispers. Lisa, remember the ridges.