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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

I forget myself for a second, grab a handful too and sit next to her. The water surrounds my feet. I shovel the crisps into my mouth. “Me neither. I’m starving.”

Her toenails are painted postbox red to match her swimsuit and I am mesmerised as I watch them peep through the surface of the water, then disappear again. She is wearing a delicate ankle chain with tiny beads and a silver conch shell dangling just above her heel. It glints in the fluorescent lighting bouncing off the water. Her hand is resting on the tiles, her fingers millimetres from mine, and I suddenly want to close that distance, touch her fingertips.

Instead, I take another big drink of champagne. “I really hope tonight is fun,” I say. “And if El or anyone gives you a hard time, let me know.”

She smiles sweetly. “Don’t worry, I can look after myself.”

39

NOW

This time it was Mills leading the way down the garden. She pushed through the pool house door, but then ground to halt, staring around her in confusion.

Matt and Lydia were sitting on the loungers. Matt had his arms around Lydia, who was sobbing uncontrollably.

“Where is she?” Mills said. “Where’s the body?”

Helen spun to face her. “The body?”

Her eyes frantically searched the room. “She was here. Floating. I pulled her from the pool. There was blood.” Mills took a tentative step forwards, then pointed at a faint red swirl in a puddle of water on the tiles.

Lydia started to wail.

Matt was on his feet. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I came in here earlier and Diana – she was floating face down in the pool. She had blood on her head and…”

“What? You didn’t say that!”

“Well, I would’ve shown you if your boyfriend hadn’t turned up!”

Helen turned on Matt. “What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything!”

“You were furious. You came marching down here – what did you do?” she shouted.

Lydia cried even harder.

“You were angry, you left because you had found out about Lydia and Diana. Did you attack her, hit her?”

“No, I—”

“And where is she now? What did you do with the body?” Mills asked again.

“Nothing! It wasn’t me!” Matt shrieked.

“It was me.”

Lydia had stopped crying, but her breath was still hitching and gulping. She looked at them with eyes wide open, black mascara rimming them like face paint. “I killed her.”

*

Standing in front of Diana in the pool house, the contents of the bag spilling out in front of them, Lydia heard the silence, felt her heart crashing from her body as Diana dismissed her. She had been so wrong about everything.

Everything Diana has asked of her, she had done. She’d stolen, she’d lied – all of it because she thought Diana loved her.