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Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Dawn Goodwin
  3. WHAT I NEVER TOLD YOU
  4. Copyright
  5. Contents
  6. Dedication
  7. Prologue
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. Acknowledgements
  55. About the Author
  56. An Invitation from the Publisher

We swivel in our seats. El is sitting sideways, her long legs, still tanned from her family trip to Italy in the summer, draped over mine.

“Is she walking home?” El sounds horrified. “Why would you?”

“It’s not far – maybe she likes the fresh air,” I say, then notice the look of disbelief on El’s face. “But yeah, stupid, right?”

The bus has pulled alongside her. El starts to bang on the window. The girl looks up to see El flicking her middle finger at her while Emily and Steph snigger.

El stands on the seat, steps over Steph and Emily, and reaches up to open the top window. She leans her head through and spits her gum straight at the girl as the bus passes her.

The gum lands at the girl’s feet.

The girl stops, looks down, then carries on walking as the bus pulls further away.

5

NOW

Helen loaded the dishwasher in silence. Scraping plates, rinsing, stacking gave her a quiet sense of purpose, a moment of calm. She could hear the television filtering through from the family room across the hall. Canned audience laughter as Mills watched reruns of old Friends episodes on Netflix, never tiring of the same stories playing out again and again. Lydia and Matt had disappeared upstairs to their rooms straight after dinner and Hugh was in his study across the hall, his eyes itching from the laptop glare as he continued on his DNA quest to discover whether he came from noble stock. He would love to discover that. So far, his results told him nothing he didn’t already know, so that was money well spent.

No need to tell him that Helen’s background was a bit more ‘old money’. The size of the house they were living in was evidence of her inherited social standing. Helen’s mother may have disowned her in life, but had kept her well cared for in death by leaving her this house. As always, passed from mother to daughter through the generations. Helen tried really hard to make sure that was all that her mother passed on to her.

Helen watched as congealed gravy slid from the plate into the sink, like a glob of snot, viscous and cloying. She thought about what Lydia had asked in her quiet, innocent voice earlier.

Why had she asked that particular question tonight, out of the blue, in between a roast chicken dinner and a bowl of ice cream in front of the Strictly Come Dancing results?

What had she heard? Who had she been talking to?

The truth was that Matt wasn’t too far wrong, much as it – he – annoyed Helen. But it wasn’t that she didn’t remember that far back.

It’s that it was best if she tried not to.