BooksBarbecue
Back Where The Story Starts Save as PDF
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
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  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
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  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

So Melissa was dead. After all these years. Grace could barely take it in. It seemed so unlikely, so random that she was struggling to make sense of it. She grappled with all the potential consequences, but she couldn’t get her thoughts to lie straight. For a moment she wondered if she might have misheard the name, or if there could be a second Melissa Allen in Whitley Bay. She hadn’t misheard, though. Just like one twin feels the misfortune of the other or a mother senses a danger that threatens her child, Grace knew that something had shifted.

And if it was true and Melissa really was dead, then that would change everything.

1

1

LEAH – NOW

The Allen family was running late. Again.

I had what felt like two minutes to get the kids dressed and out of the house, and tempers, mainly mine, were getting frayed. It really didn’t matter how early we got up on a Saturday. This always happened. Noah, my four-year-old, had his swimming lesson and Poppy had a netball match at school, but to look at them you’d think we had all the time in the world. Noah was still in his pyjamas but as he had his swimming goggles on he seemed to think he was more or less ready. There was no sign of Poppy.

I bellowed up the stairs at them. It was a tiny terraced house and there was no need to shout to be heard in any part of it, but it made me feel better.

‘Get down here now!’ I yelled. ‘We are going to be late!’

Nobody appeared.

I wasn’t sure why I got myself in such a steam about these things. The world wouldn’t end if the kids didn’t get to their activities on time, but I prided myself on never dropping a ball. I was doing this parenting thing on my own and there was no way I was going to let anyone say that I couldn’t cope. Not that there was anyone in my life who would care, but still. It was a personal challenge.

Noah appeared, dressed now but with no goggles. There was still no sign of Poppy.

‘Noah, where are your goggles?’ I asked him, exasperation oozing out of me like jam from a doughnut. ‘You had them a minute ago.’

Noah patted the top of his head, discovered them to be missing and then set off back up the narrow stairs at speed. I had no doubt that my next-door neighbours on both sides would also be enjoying hearing his little feet thundering around. There would be gentle, passive-aggressive complaints the next time I bumped into them, but I’d lived here longer than either of them so I didn’t care.

Poppy finally sauntered down the stairs showing absolutely no sign of the urgency that was making my heart race, but at least she was ready.

And then the doorbell rang.