Chapters (41)
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- An Excerpt from House of Correction
- One
- Two
- About the Author
- Praise for Nicci French
- Also by Nicci French
- About the Publisher
Fergus got up and hugged me. “I’m so sorry about everything,” he whispered.
I shrugged.
Chapter Twenty
When I got home, I had decided what to do. It would have been easy to send emails from Milena’s account, simply replying to the messages she had received from old lovers, but that felt too risky. Even if I stayed anonymous, it would have to be sent by someone who knew Milena’s password. It might even establish a connection with Milena’s computer or her office. The safest idea seemed to be to set up a Hotmail account for myself. I had no idea how easy it was to trace emails, but I probably wasn’t dealing with computer experts here. Creating the new email address, I simply jabbed randomly at the keyboard and ended up with [email protected]. I entered my first name as J and my second name as Smith. As a password I wrote out a sequence of numbers and upper-and lower-case letters. When I was done, I sent myself an email, just to check. There was just “J Smith,” the subject line, the date and time and the address. That seemed safe enough.
I entered the first of the email addresses I had retrieved from Milena’s computer, wrote “re” beside “subject,” and then, after a few moments’ thought, typed: “Dearest Robin, I am LONGING to see you and . . .” I tried to think of a plausible name. “Petra.” No—wasn’t that a dog’s name? And a tourist destination. “Katya.” Sounded a bit exotic. I realized I was thinking of names that sounded too like “Milena.” I looked at the books on the shelf. “Richmal.” Hopeless. “Elizabeth.” Was anyone called that anymore? “Eliza.” “Lizzie.” “Beth.” “Bessie.” They all sounded ridiculous. Anyway, what did it matter. “Lizzie” would do. And then I remembered. No, it wouldn’t do. The name needed to start with a J. Jackie then. “Jackie again after all this time. Ring as soon as you arrive, love Jackie xxxxx PS I hope this is your email address and if it isn’t will whoever is reading it let me know!!!!!”
I read it over and then again. I pressed send and it was gone. I wrote the same message to the second address as well and sent it. I thought of when I was a child and sometimes I had been afraid to post a letter because when I pushed it through the slot and heard it fall, I would realize it was still there, a few inches away, but lost to me, beyond change or recall.