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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

The tears that I’d just pushed back down started pricking at my eyes again.

‘Not well,’ I said. ‘Mum was totally devastated when he left. She just fell apart. It was horrible. She never recovered from it.’

Should I tell her about the suicide, I wondered? I never usually had to. Everyone in Whitley Bay knew my story and if they didn’t then it wouldn’t be long before someone filled them in. Being with somebody who had no idea of what had happened to me was a whole new experience, but as the sentences starting forming in my mind, I decided to keep it to myself for now.

‘If I were to ever see my dad again, though,’ I said, ‘I think I’d probably kill him for what he did to her.’

Clio opened her mouth to ask another question just as Noah came bounding back into the kitchen.

‘This house is ace,’ he announced. And then, ‘When’s lunch? I’m starving.’

I was about to pull him up, but Clio got her reply in first.

‘Yes, Noah. I’m starving too. The marvellous Marguerite has arranged lunch for us in the house. Let’s go and sniff it out.’

13

13

MELISSA – THEN

It wasn’t that Melissa was ashamed of where she lived. There were many would be grateful for a caravan that they could call their own. It wasn’t even a caravan, not really. It was a mobile home with a separate bedroom and lounge and everything, and had the best views of the sea in the whole of the town. It was a classy site too, with some holiday lets, but mainly occupied by locals who lived there more or less full-time. And her van wasn’t the scruffiest, not by a long chalk. It was just that she had the impression that Ray wasn’t the mobile home sort. She felt sure that he’d have a proper house somewhere, or a flat at the very least.

So as his car pulled into the gateway of the site, Melissa felt her stomach turn over. Worse than what he’d make of her modest home was the thought that she hadn’t left it as tidy as it might be. She didn’t often have visitors and so she rarely considered the state of the place, but now she cringed as she remembered the underwear that was soaking in the sink and her unmade bed. And was there a pizza box on the floor? God, she hoped she’d thrown it away, but she had a horrible feeling that she hadn’t bothered.