The Other Girl

by C D Major

  He stressed the words, desperate for her to really understand that it was over, that the nightmare was finished.

  She laughed then, high and excited, resting her head back on the seat. ‘I never thought it would happen. I thought I would just have to make things safe instead . . .’

  Declan was still smiling as she spoke, the road ahead clinging to the side of a hill, sheep grazing in the long grass to his right, oblivious to them moving below.

  ‘. . . that I would have to stay there forever. But then you promised. And you’d got Bernie out so I knew you would do it. And now—’ She held out a hand, indicated the road ahead.

  He snuck another glance, saw the widest smile as she rested her head back once more. He felt another glow that he had done this.

  ‘This will be much better. Before, I thought I’d be safe because Donna had gone. That was why I did it. To make myself safe. I had to do it . . .’

  Declan couldn’t quite keep up, concentrating on the winding road in front of him, still making plans for later that day. He was going to take her out for her first meal in a restaurant. He had made the reservation over the telephone, picturing a white tablecloth, a candle, a small vase of flowers and Edith sitting across from him in a dress that fitted, her flushed face happy.

  ‘There were lots of matches for the cake. I knew no one would notice if some were missing. And I knew I could get out because the shutter in my room was broken, you see. Martha must have known too, she must have got the key, got out. It was a shame Bernie was up there though. I didn’t want her to die . . .’

  It was as if he hadn’t heard the words; the sounds of the wind, the motorcar’s engine dulled, the scene in the restaurant dissolving as he repeated them in his head, repeated them again, over and over. He felt his foot slipping on the pedal, his eyes leaving the road as with the slowest turn of his head he looked at her, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, her eyes closed now, her curly hair a wild halo around her and the smallest, satisfied smile on her lips.

  I’m Edith.

  I was a patient.

  I was a loony.

  I’m guilty.

  I’m free.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  The Seacliff fire

  The Seacliff fire on 8 December 1942 was the starting point for this book. Seacliff was the largest building in New Zealand when it was first built in its isolated spot on the Otago coast, forty kilometres north of Dunedin. On a plot of about a thousand acres, the building was modelled on the Scottish baronial style and included spires, turrets and a fifty-metre observation tower. By 1942 it was home to hundreds of patients and staff.

  Ward Five was a two-storey wooden outbuilding attached to the main building at the end of the nineteenth century, made up of single rooms and one twenty-bed dormitory. There were thirty-nine female patients housed in the ward. They were locked inside their rooms and the windows were also locked, only openable with a key from the inside.

  The fire began at around 9.45 p.m. and was incredibly aggressive. In 1942, during the Second World War, there was a shortage of nursing staff and no one was on duty that night; checks were made by other staff from different wards every hour. There were no automatic alarms and by the time the fire had been noticed by a male attendant, it was too late for most. Only two women survived the blaze. The building was reduced to ashes in a few short hours.

  Arson was considered; rats biting through wires was another theory, but the cause of the fire was never determined. Most believed it to have been caused by earth movement, but arson was never ruled out. When work began on the building in 1878 there was real concern about the site, which was found to slope ten degrees towards the sea, but the architect refused to consider a move. The main building hadn’t even been completed when pieces of plaster started to fall and noises from the timber in the roof were reported. There was a major landslide three years after completion, which led to partial collapse. By 1954 it was deemed unfit for purpose; patients were moved out to nearby Cherry Farm and Seacliff was finally demolished. There is barely anything left of the opulent buildings if you visit the site today.

  Children who recall past lives

  I became fascinated by this topic after reading about the research undertaken by Dr Ian Stevenson, who studied the phenomenon for fifty years and wrote numerous books and articles on the subject. He studied children who claimed to have lived before, who recalled details from another life, and he sought to verify these details. Most of the children seemed to lose these memories by around the age of six.

  One of the most notable examples reported in the media is the story of James, an American boy who began to have screaming nightmares just after his second birthday. He would cry out, ‘Plane on fire, little man can’t get out!’ He repeatedly hit the propellers off his planes, spoke about the crash that had killed him, included details about the Corsair plane he had flown in the Second World War and the friends that he had flown with. After some research his family visited the surviving relatives of a Second World War pilot, James Huston Jr, who had died in the way that two-year-old James had described. The family were so convinced by the little boy that they accepted him as the reincarnation of their family member.

  Another child seemed to be able to recall numerous details about the Hollywood agent Marty Martyn. Ryan answered more than fifty questions correctly about Marty’s life, including verifying his correct birth date, which differed from the incorrect official birth record. In other cases, like Shanti Devi, mentioned in the book itself, children were able to identify family members from their past life, and on some occasions children even identified the people who had killed them.

  The theories on this subject are varied and controversial. Many of the children appear to be recounting deaths that were very violent, and some believe these to have left a mark on space and time. Others believe in reincarnation, even demonstrating that some of the children have interesting birthmarks at the same site as the injury sustained in the previous life. Whatever my thoughts on the matter, it was a topic that drew me in and I wished to explore the idea in this book.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book was such a passion project and I could not be more excited to work with such a dynamic publisher as Thomas & Mercer.

  To Jane Snelgrove, who loved this book from the start, thank you. To the whole team at Amazon, thank you for such a warm welcome and for being so professional and fun to work with. To Jack Butler for his endless enthusiasm and good humour. To Laura Deacon, Hatty Stiles and the countless others who work hard behind the scenes. To Emma Rogers for the fantastic cover design and Laura Ranftler for the original image used. That burning house is so powerful.

  Thank you to my literary agent Clare Wallace at the Darley Anderson Agency for the countless things you do. A particular thanks to Tanera Simons and Emma Winter, too. Your early feedback on this book gave me the confidence to push on and I am very grateful to you both. To the cracking rights team at Darley Anderson, Kristina and Georgia, led by the exceptional Mary Darby – thank you for selling my books abroad. To Sheila David for working hard to turn my books into film or television projects.

  If there are any errors in this book they are down to me, but lots of kind people helped me along the way. Thank you to Dr John Ferguson and Dr Tamara Gall for medical facts; to Kate Meyers Emery for some rather gruesome facts about decomposing bodies; to Susie Hill and Catherine Campbell; to Keith and Bron Petrie for some brilliant New Zealand jargon – we miss you guys.

  A debt of gratitude to some early readers who helped steer me: to Bree Oliver-Moss for killing off Warren (!) and to Joanna West for such helpful feedback. To my sister Naomi Billington – the book is dedicated to you, Superfan!

  Thanks also to the Christchurch Library for sending me such great online resources. A few books helped me in my research, too. Susan Tarr’s Phenomena and Janet Frame’s autobiographies helped me build up a picture of life at Seacliff. Various books by Dr Ian Stevenson, Dr Jim Tucker and Mary and Peter Har
rison all helped me explore the idea of children with past lives.

  An enormous thank you to some incredibly generous authors for reading and providing quotes: Kate Riordan, Cathy Bramley, Roz Watkins, Amanda Jennings, Vikki Patis, Susanna Beard, Rachael Lucas, Cressida MacLaughlin, Angela Clarke, Rona Halsall, Maddie Please, Anna Mansell and more. To the BookCampers and Lady Novelists for being endlessly cheering and supportive in person and on our endless WhatsApp threads.

  The book blogging community takes such time and care to read and review books. I am always amazed by the generous way in which you shout about the books you love. The support I have received in the past with my earlier books, or as Rosie Blake, has been humbling. Thank you for saying such nice things about my writing. Thank you to the many readers who buy my books and go on to review them online. You help others to find my books and I am so grateful to you.

  To my parents, David and Basia, for always encouraging me. To Rosie and Dena for, quite literally, holding the babies while I write. To my husband Ben and wonderful children: Barnaby, Inessa and Lexi – I love you all.

  And to anyone I have forgotten – and there will be someone – please forgive me.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  As an ex-history teacher, Cesca has always been fascinated by true stories from the recent past. She has written three novels; her debut The Silent Hours was described as a ‘moving debut’ by Women and Home magazine and The Times called Major ‘a talent to watch’. Her third novel The Other Girl is a historical thriller set in an asylum in 1940s New Zealand and is inspired by a terrible true story. Cesca has vlogged about the writing process for Novelicious and the Writers and Artists website. She has also presented shows for ITV West and Sky. She writes other books under her pseudonym Rosie Blake. She runs writing retreats twice a year in the West Country and teaches creative writing for the Henley School of Art. Cesca lives in Berkshire with her husband, son and twin girls.