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Back What I Never Told you
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 tried to stop her, grab onto her as Tracey pushed her, but it was too little, too late,” Helen said quietly. “But it wasn’t me. Sure, I am partly to blame for not standing up for Tracey, the pills that they put in her drink, all of that. But I was seventeen, I made some bad choices.”

“Yeah, we can see that.” Matt was peering closely at another photo, then tossed it in front of Helen. The photo with Jason. Helen turned it over.

“Tracey, she—”

“Wait, Tracey? The woman who lives in the flat above the bookshop?” Mills asked.

“Yes. God, they hated each other. El was jealous of her, I guess, felt threatened, I don’t know. And sure, there was probably a racial element to it – Seahaven was wall-to-wall white privilege. Thank god there were no smartphones then, no social media posts, no Snapchat. Everything could be erased as quickly as it took people to forget, to move onto the next drama. I hoped that was what would happen, but the photos. They were evidence – I had never seen them until recently.”

“The plaque…” Mills said.

Helen nodded. “They never found her body.”

“So why would Diana blame you?”

Helen shrugged. “I blame me too. It was my camera, my party, my best friend. I might not have pushed her myself, but everything else that led up to it was my fault.”

No one said anything, but nor could they look Helen in the eye.

“What happened afterwards?”

“It was awful – the funeral, everything. It’s all there in the diaries.” Helen indicated the pile of notebooks still lying scattered across the lounger. “I stayed only as long as it took to finish out the school year, then I left. Tracey never really recovered from it. She was a walking ghost. The gossip around school was that she had got herself into drugs, the rumours of her being off her face at the party being the starting point, but I knew what it really was. Guilt, pure and simple. She lost control, a moment of rage. And when I came back to the village, she was still here, still lost. I approached her one day, felt dreadful because she had nothing. Her family had sold off most of the farmland and she was living in the dilapidated, rundown farmhouse, alone. I would see her in the village occasionally when she was buying groceries or visiting the charity shop. One day I started talking to her, a word here, a nod there, until I heard she was finally selling the farmhouse and had nowhere to go. So I offered her the flat above the bookshop. I guess my way of saying sorry for my part in all of this.”

Then Matt said, “Ok, but there’s something really important we are forgetting here.”

They all looked at him.

“Diana. Where the hell is she?”

44

THEN