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Where The Story Starts

Imogen Clark
Chapters (65)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
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  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
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  45. 41
  46. 42
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  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
  64. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  65. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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ALSO BY IMOGEN CLARK

Postcards From a Stranger

The Thing About Clare

TITLE PAGE

title

COPYRIGHT PAGE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2019 by Imogen Clark

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-10: 1542044669

ISBN-13: 9781542044660

Cover design by Emma Rogers

CONTENTS

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

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57

58

BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

‘The body of a woman has been found on the beach in Whitley Bay,’ the newsreader announced in a suitably sombre tone.

Grace Montgomery Smith was straightening the very many tasselled cushions that had been scattered across her drawing room floor like so much confetti. It was the housekeeper’s day off and as her children seemed incapable of tidying up as they went along, the task had fallen to her. They were going to have to learn, Grace thought as she plumped the feather innards back into shape, that most people had to clear up their own mess rather than rely on the staff to do it for them.

It took a couple of seconds for the words to cut through her endless internal monologue, but when they did Grace stopped short and focused her entire attention on the television screen, seemingly frozen in time.

‘The body has been identified as Mrs Melissa Allen, a long-standing resident of the town,’ the solemn newsreader continued. ‘She was found shortly after dawn by a dog walker. Mrs Allen worked in the King’s Head Hotel, not far from the beach. Police are not looking for anyone else in connection with the incident. Her family has been informed.’

Grace sat down heavily, all the air escaping from her lungs just as she needed it most, and squeezed the cushion she’d been holding so that there wasn’t a hair’s breadth between its rich, velvety nap and her twinset. Staring at the screen, she willed more details to come spilling out, but it seemed that that was all there was and the newsreader had moved on.