The Copper Heart
Page 22
St Thomas’ Hospital. Roof. Come now.
A moment later, another message came through.
Don’t make me visit Emma.
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Lydia stared at the black letters until they became fuzzy, the words dancing in and out of focus as she fought the urge to throw up, to run, to scream. For a suspended moment in time, every muscle in her body flexed. The tension was like a sacred covenant - if she didn’t relax a single fibre, then Emma would not be in danger. Nothing would happen to her, nothing would happen to her children. She would have erased the text message through an act of denial. And then the moment passed and Lydia knew she must move.
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Lydia was up and out of the flat without conscious thought. When she found herself in a taxi and on her way to Westminster Bridge she was just relieved to see that she was dressed. The journey seemed interminable. She texted the unknown number to say that she was on her way. Then again to ask the assassin to wait.
It had to be Mr Smith’s rogue assassin. He had to have commissioned a hit on Lydia. The ten-shilling note hadn’t been an empty threat or a continuation of their dance. Mr Smith had taken his defeat hard and decided to end the game. Lydia couldn’t think of any alternative explanation and she was in no state to reason it out.
Getting onto the roof of the hospital was nowhere near as difficult as Lydia had imagined. She had always thought that walking to her own death would feel harder or take longer. As it was, she felt nothing but a calm sense of inevitability. She would not let anybody else get hurt on her account. The idea that her life, her position, her choices, would lead to Emma or her children being harmed in any way was unthinkable. There was no choice to be made. This was what it meant to be the head of the Crow Family. Everything stopped with her.
Coming out of the stairwell and onto the roof, Lydia was slapped in the face by a stiff breeze. At least she wasn’t clinging to The Shard, she told herself, while scanning the collection of stone buildings and low walls. She moved around one locked structure with a yellow ‘danger of death’ notice on the door and the space opened out. Over by the low wall which signalled the edge of the building, there was a slight figure. For a moment, Lydia thought that it was the Pearl King. And then they turned and she realised her mistake.
It was Maddie.
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THE END
Thank you for reading!
I hope you enjoyed reading about Lydia Crow and her family as much as I enjoyed writing about them!
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Acknowledgments
I am beyond thrilled by the response to this series, and am deeply grateful to my wonderful readers for taking to Lydia Crow and her London with such enthusiasm. Thank you! I will keep doing my very best with the characters and the world.
2020 hasn’t been the easiest year in which to write, but I am very lucky to have a wonderful support team. Thank you to my fantastic children, Holly and James, and to family and friends for your love and encouragement. As ever, thank you to my brilliant author pals; Clodagh Murphy, Hannah Ellis, Keris Stainton, Nadine Kirtzinger, and Sally Calder.
Thank you to my editor, cover designer, early readers, and ARC team. You are all wonderful. In particular, thanks to Beth Farrar, Karen Heenan, Judy Grivas, Paula Searle, Ann Martin, Jenni Gudgeon, Stuart Bache, Kerry Barrett, and David Wood.
Finally, my deepest love and gratitude to my husband. I truly couldn’t do this without you.
About the Author
Before writing books, Sarah Painter worked as a freelance magazine journalist, blogger and editor, combining this 'career' with amateur child-wrangling (AKA motherhood).
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Sarah lives in rural Scotland with her children and husband. She drinks too much tea, loves the work of Joss Whedon, and is the proud owner of a writing shed.
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