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Back When I Was Ten Save as PDF
Chapters (79)
  1. Cover
  2. WHEN I WAS TEN
  3. Dedication page
  4. Epigraph page
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. PART TWO
  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. PART THREE
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. 59
  68. 60
  69. 61
  70. 62
  71. 63
  72. 64
  73. 65
  74. 66
  75. 67
  76. 68
  77. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  78. WHEN I WAS TEN
  79. Also by Fiona Cummins

Bending down, I feel around in the darkness for the key, half hoping it’s not there. My fingers close around cold metal. It’s a stupid idea. I’ll get caught. The idea of running into Dr Carter and his false smile almost sends me back home.

Home.

I have a safe place to escape to, but Shannon has nowhere. A gust of wind threatens the trees and blows rain into my face, making my teeth chatter, and this decides me.

The lock is stiff but I jiggle the key for a few seconds and twist it, and the back door opens. It’s not trespassing if my best friend lives here, is it? After all, I was supposed to be staying the night.

The kitchen hums with life. The expensive fridge that’s twice the size of ours. The washing machine that’s spinning in a slow circle like a bicycle wheel.

But there’s no burglar alarm to worry about, no barking dog. I know Hilltop House almost as well as my own home. But I feel unsettled and out of place. A worm of doubt wriggles in my belly. I shouldn’t be here.

It’s late – the clock on the oven says 4.03 a.m. My fingers trail along the work surface. Now I’m inside, I want to leave, but I’ve come so far, and so I pretend to myself that I am staying the night. I hang my sodden coat on the back of a kitchen chair and run lightly up the stairs. I’ll just open Shannon’s door, check on my friend, and then I’ll go home.

But in the black corridor of someone else’s house, my bravado deflates. I stand at the top of the landing, heart running faster. What if Shannon screams when I go into her room? What if her parents wake up? What the effing blinders, as my father would say, am I doing here?

The boiler rumbles, making me jump, and I decide to leave before I get caught. My foot is on the top step when I hear a grunt and a noise I can’t place coming from her parents’ room.

I hover, uncertain, and then tiptoe back across the landing and stand in the darkness, my eye to the crack of the door, a window into hell.

42

Pamela Carter could hear a wet sound, like the drip of a tap. Still sludgy with sleep, she listened to the darkness.

raining a leak from the gutter fix it tomorrow

She lay on her side, drowsy and warm under the goose-feather duvet, but the wind was playing a tune on the roof tiles and the percussion kept her awake. Her mind ambled down several pathways.