PRAISE FOR TRACY BUCHANAN:
‘I was left absolutely traumatised in a totally brilliant way . . . Beautiful, heartbreaking, uplifting . . . Really worth a read.’
—HELLO!
‘A pacy read . . . A great book to take to the beach!’
—Daily Mail
‘I was entranced from the very first page and couldn’t put it down until I had all the answers. Tracy weaves a seamless tale while offering brilliant descriptions and raw emotions.’
—Angela Marsons, author of Child’s Play
‘A must read for fans of psychological suspense. Tightly plotted and intense, this novel will have you looking over your shoulder and peeking under your bed. Filled with twists and turns, it will keep you flying through the pages to the shocking end.’
—Heather Gudenkauf, author of Before She Was Found
Praise for Tracy’s last book, The Lost Sister:
‘Tracy Buchanan writes moving, gripping, heartbreakingly real family drama.’
—Susan Lewis, author of One Minute Later
‘Refreshing and intriguing . . . I loved it!’
—Tracy Rees, Richard and Judy bestselling author of The Hourglass
‘Twisty, emotional and far too hard to put down.’
—Katie Marsh, author of My Everything
‘I really loved this book . . . Her best yet.’
—Candys BookCase
‘There are so many twists and turns . . . a heart-rending and thought-provoking book!!!’
—Book In One Hand Coffee In Another
ALSO BY TRACY BUCHANAN:
The Atlas of Us
My Sister’s Secret
No Turning Back
Her Last Breath
The Lost Sister
The Family Secret
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 © 2020 by Tracy Buchanan
All rights reserved.
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
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542017091
ISBN-10: 1542017092
Cover design by Ghost Design
To Nan and Auntie Wendy
‘In life we loved you dearly.
In death we love you still.
In our hearts you hold a place
No one else will ever fill.’
Unknown
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter One
Thursday 18th April, 2019
4.05 p.m.
I thought Dad’s blood would smell of him, that soft citrus scent I’ve known all my life. But all I can smell on my hands are bitter pennies.
I look down at his face. He’s so white, so quiet.
Is this really happening?
‘Quick, get up!’ A hand grabs at my shoulder, trying to pull me up. ‘Mum’ll be here soon.’
I think of Mum’s reassuring smell. Peach perfume. Sometimes sweat. Chocolate on her breath. I want to squash my face into her neck and tell her everything that’s happened, every little detail. Then I want her to tell me it’ll all be okay, that she understands, that she will always understand, for ever and ever.
But I can’t tell her the truth. I have to be strong. We have to be strong.
‘Drop the knife,’ a voice hisses.
I look down at the large knife that’s in my hands. God, I didn’t even realise I was still holding it. Only this morning, Mum was using this knife to slice a grapefruit in half. I see the remains of the grapefruit on the side, probably already rotting.
I do as I’m told and the knife clatters to the ground, specks of Dad’s blood spotting the kitchen walls as it lands.
The same walls Dad spent all of his birthday weekend painting.
The bitter stench of his blood invades my nostrils again and I’m folding right over, a silent scream coming out.
‘What have I done?’ I say over and over as I stare at my dad.
A finger is put to my mouth. ‘Shhh. Count to five.’
Outside, a bird sings. It sounds all shrill and panicked. Must be a goldfinch. Mum pointed one out to me once. It was in Joel’s tree, high up, its little red face staring down at me. Mum said Grandma Quail used to tell her people’s souls live on in animals and I remember hoping it was Joel watching us.
Now I hope it isn’t. I wouldn’t want him to see what I just did.
The clock ticks and the three of us stand around Dad, his blood congealing beneath the soles of our feet as we wait for the sound of Mum’s key in the lock . . .
Chapter Two
Thursday 18th April, 2019
4.07 p.m.
Welcome to Forest Grove, Utopia of the Woods
Home to Strong Branches and Deep Roots
Melissa cycled past the village’s welcome sign and into the forest, the wheels of her mountain bike juddering over the sludge of leaves and knot of fallen branches. She liked the forest after a downpour, the squish of the damp leaves beneath her wheels, the smell of the mulch and drenched wood drifting up to her. The sun was now scorching those leaves, though, revenge for the shock of rain earlier, and it was warm again.
Prime barbecue weather, Melissa thought to herself as she smiled up at t
he sun.
She intended to begin the long Easter weekend by kicking back in the garden with a glass of home-made cider in one hand, a barbecued (and heavily buttered) corn on the cob in the other. Screw the diet! In fact, maybe they could invite Daphne and Maddy over, even get Patrick’s parents to join them all? Make a night of it.
After, she and Patrick could stay out in the dark and talk all evening like they used to. Patrick needed some chill time. He was running to be a parish councillor and with the local elections coming up in May, combined with his job as a director of a marketing company, he seemed more stressed than usual.
Yep, a few ciders in the evening sun would do the trick!
In fact, they might even have something to celebrate if things had gone well for their elder twin, Lilly (elder by five minutes, as she loved to tell people, not wanting anyone to forget she came out before her twin brother, Lewis). Today was the day she’d be finding out if she’d got the lead role in Forest Grove’s annual ‘Musical in the Woods’ production, this year The Sound of Music.
It meant a lot to Lilly, nights spent whispering lines to herself over and over, mornings spent scrutinising her expression in the mirror to ensure she was projecting just enough Maria von Trapp without sacrificing the modern take she was giving the role. They were all hoping against hope that all those drama lessons Patrick bought for Lilly after she lost out on the lead the year before hadn’t gone to waste. Whatever happened, though, Melissa would be proud of her daughter for working so hard at something she was passionate about.
Melissa pumped her legs to make the wheels turn faster, desperate to get home to her family and that cider. As she enjoyed the breeze on her bare shoulders, a real sense of contentment fell over her. Finally she could say that yes, she was at peace here in the forest, the warmth of her family and friends pressing in close to her like the branches of an old oak tree.
She looked over her shoulder briefly, thinking of the ancient oak that sat in the heart of the forest.
The bad times were behind her.
Her street began to come into view then as the forest thinned out. New Pine Road was the closest street to the forest, forming one half of a circle around the woods, the village’s original street, Old Pine Road, forming the other half. There was a mixture of four- and five-bed houses on the road, each of them dominated by the same large triangle of a window that looked out over the pine trees from the back. Though Melissa and Patrick were in one of the smaller four-bed houses, they had been lucky enough to get a plot at the end of the road, meaning they were at the curve of the woods, giving them forest views from both the back and the side of their house. Nothing beat curling up with Patrick on winter nights, the log fire burning as they looked out at the dark pine columns with a glass of Baileys in their hands. Or summer evenings gathered around their fire pit with the kids as they talked and laughed into the night, the trees swaying in the moonlight before them.
That view was a daily reminder of how very far they had come. How far Melissa had come. Yes, their mortgage was astronomical, but all that scrimping and saving, all that hard work, meant she was able to continue living in the town that had been her sanctuary from childhood . . . and now it would be a sanctuary for their three children too.
She pedalled out from among the trees, enjoying the familiar judder of her bike tyres over the gravelled street, a feeling that meant she was nearly home. She passed one of the largest houses, catching sight of its owner, Andrea Cooper, attending to her immaculate lawn. Andrea was the founder of the ‘Friends of Forest Grove High’ and admin for the town’s Facebook group. Melissa’s friend Daphne called her ‘Scandrea’, referring to the fact that she loved a good scandal.
At that moment, Andrea was kneeling down on a floral knee rest, snipping away at her rose bush with the precision of a heart surgeon. She was wearing the Forest Grove ‘uniform’ of Hunter wellies and Joules raincoat, her platinum hair in a perfect bob. Melissa still remembered her tottering around on stilettos with permed hair and her cleavage spilling out when they were teenagers. It was only when she met her husband, local police officer Adrian, that she replaced the stilettos with those Hunter wellies.
As Melissa cycled past, Andrea looked up, regarding her with cold eyes. Melissa shot her a smile just to annoy her, then pedalled faster until she got to the end of the street. Melissa jumped off her bike and wheeled it to the front door, surprised not to hear the usual clamour of music, laughter and clattering pots and pans from behind the door. Maybe they were all in the garden?
She pulled her helmet off, her shoulder-length blonde hair sweaty and standing on end, then went to open the front door.
‘Hello, you,’ a voice called out.
Melissa turned to see her friend Daphne jogging by with her two Jack Russells, Fleetwood and Mac, in pursuit. She was in her usual running gear, her short red hair scraped back beneath a sapphire-blue headband.
‘I can’t believe you’re going for a run,’ Melissa said. ‘It’s so hot.’
‘You know I’m addicted, sweetie.’ Daphne came to a stop in front of Melissa, catching her breath. ‘Speaking of which, how’s the latest batch of cider?’
‘Divine. In fact, I was thinking about popping the barbecue on and having a few glasses. Do you and Maddy fancy joining us all?’ she asked.
‘Oh, I’d love to, but I have a ton of clothes to go through.’ Daphne ran a boutique in the village’s small shopping courtyard on the outskirts of the forest, called Déjà Vu. It was essentially a charity shop, but Daphne had cleverly taken advantage of Forest Grove residents’ obsession with recycling to brand it as a ‘high-end vintage store for the eco-friendly’.
You’d think Daphne was eco-minded herself, but she was the complete opposite. She didn’t even recycle her rubbish! But then that was Daphne’s way, always going against the grain, something other residents – especially the likes of Andrea Cooper – struggled with. Even though Melissa didn’t agree with Daphne’s laissez faire attitude to the environment, she found Daphne’s company refreshing. Sometimes it made a nice change to spend time with someone who wasn’t obsessed with the state of the village’s ecologically engineered sewage plant or the latest school-run gossip. Daphne kept herself apart from all that, except for the occasional sardonic quip in the village’s Facebook group, her comments a source of entertainment for Melissa and Patrick whenever they logged in.
‘How was work for you today?’ Daphne asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.
‘Good, actually. Though I’ll miss Jacob Simms; it was his last session today. He’s been with me a year.’
Daphne’s green eyes flared with anger. ‘That poor kid. Honestly, it gets me in a rage when I think of the way the community treated him.’
‘He did set fire to some of the forest.’
‘He was drunk! We’ve all done stupid things after a few too many Babychams.’ Daphne crossed her slim arms across her chest and glared at Andrea Cooper, who was still in her garden. ‘People here always talk about dealing with problems themselves and yet they’re quite happy to go running to the police over something trivial when it suits them.’
Melissa sighed. Maybe Daphne was right. One stupid mistake and fourteen-year-old Jacob’s life had been completely changed the year before. If it weren’t for the outrage of the village, maybe he would have been let off with some community service for setting a campfire in the forest that hot summer day. In the end, he had to spend several weeks in a children’s home in Ashbridge, called St Fiacre’s . . . not to mention now having a criminal record for life. Worst of all, he had been subjected to a severe beating on his last day at the home. ‘A little goodbye present’ was how the culprit had described it as he pummelled Jacob’s legs, meaning his dreams of being a professional football player were completely shattered. At least Melissa’s intense physiotherapy over the past few months might mean he’d have a chance of returning to play football one day, even if it wasn’t quite of the same quality as before.
‘Well,
I have high hopes for him now,’ Melissa said. ‘He’s come on in leaps and bounds.’
‘Same can’t be said about the community, though,’ Daphne said. ‘Him and his dad were completely blanked in the Neck of the Woods earlier,’ she added, referring to the pub next to her shop. ‘That’s the thing with Forest Grove. One wrong move and it’s like you’re dead to the residents here.’
‘Oh, Daphne, that’s not true,’ Melissa said softly. ‘Look what happened with my mum.’
Daphne put her hand on her hip. ‘She didn’t make a wrong move, though, did she?’
‘She was considered an outsider. People here could have turned a blind eye.’
Daphne went to open her mouth to say something but then sighed, shaking her head. ‘God, I’m really on one today, aren’t I? I blame that daughter of mine, like walking on eggshells being around her today.’
‘That’s teenagers for you.’
Melissa had always liked Daphne’s daughter, Maddy. She’d been dating Lewis for a year until they surprised everyone by splitting up a few weeks back. Maddy had been good for Lewis, especially at this important point in his school life. He tended to flit from one ambition to the next in his typical erratic fashion, whereas Maddy had known from an early age that she wanted to be a journalist, even setting up a student newspaper for Forest Grove High when she was thirteen. Sure, Lewis was only just fifteen, but they’d be gearing up for their exams in the next school year. Lilly had already decided she wanted to go to a specialist drama college in the next town, and their younger sister, Grace (though it sometimes felt to Melissa like Grace was the oldest of her three children, the way she talked), had also decided she wanted to be a journalist, thanks to Maddy’s influence.
‘Right, better head inside and get the barbie started,’ Melissa said. ‘Catch you later.’
Daphne checked her Fitbit then gave Melissa a wave before jogging off, her dogs trotting after her.
Melissa placed her hand on the door handle and paused, taking the chance to enjoy a moment of calm before the inevitable noise and rush of family life. She watched the tall pine trees swaying above her. As a child, she would contemplate the trees from the darkness of her bedroom in the small cottage in the woods where she lived with her parents, imagining those trees were alive and watching over her . . . protecting her.
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