by Tony Salter
The images, the sound of Serena’s voice and the rolling red-on-white banner text all blurred into one ‘… fugitive … Italian villa … found dead … tragic figure … fall … accident … alone … Peschici … sorry end … no suspects.’
‘She’s dead,’ shouted Daz. ‘I was beginning to believe that bitch was immortal, but she’s dead.’ He bounced around like a teenager, kissing and hugging every one – even Nicki.
My father didn’t speak. He stood like a statue, staring at the screen as though waiting for more proof. Some sort of final confirmation, perhaps. The words rolled past for maybe the tenth time … ‘Julie Martin, founder of Pulsar, has been found dead in an Italian villa …’ and then I saw his ramrod shoulders slump forward and the glint of a tear rolling down his cheek.
‘You OK, Dad?’ I said, wrapping my arms around him.
‘Yup,’ he said. ‘I’ll be fine.’ He wiped away the tears with the back of his hand. ‘I just can’t believe it’s finally over. I’ve been so worried about you this past year. That woman took Fabiola from me and she would have come for you sooner or later. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you.’
Daz bounced over to us.
‘Come on, Sam,’ he said. ‘You must have some champagne in this posh pad of yours. We need to celebrate.’
‘All right,’ I said. ‘Keep your hair on. Let’s hear the rest of the story.’
It was breaking news and, as the Italian police hadn’t released much actual information, the news team were recycling the same limited facts and padding it out with old reports from the court case, Julie’s escape and the few interviews she’d given over the years.
‘Peschici?’ said Liz. ‘Isn’t that where you and Nicki went last weekend?’
‘Yes,’ said Nicki. ‘It’s where Fabiola’s family came from.’
‘Not such a surprise that Jax chose to hide there,’ said Daz.
‘I guess not,’ I said.
‘… But you never got to see your uncle?’ said Liz.
‘No,’ I said. ‘He’s very ill, apparently. Wasn’t allowed visitors.’ I looked at Nicki and smiled. ‘It was good to spend time with Nicki, but the rest of the trip was a waste of time.’
She looked back at me and I knew our shared secret would be safe. ‘Great scenery, great food, great wine and great company,’ she said, before shrugging her shoulders. ‘Otherwise a complete washout.’
We did manage to share a glass of champagne together, but it soon became clear that none of us felt much like talking. By six-thirty, I found myself alone with the BBC news, which was flick-flacking between the coronation and Julie’s death. I’d had my fill of both stories and switched it off.
I took my half-glass of warm champagne and walked into the bedroom. I’d always kept my favourite picture of Mum by the side of my bed. It was taken when she was pregnant with me and she was laughing, happy, totally radiant. I lifted my glass and took a sip before putting it down next to the photo.
In the drawer below were two antique mobiles laying next to each other – my mother’s old phone and Jax’s matching model, the one I’d discovered in Julie’s Knightsbridge apartment. Each, in its own way, had played a pivotal role in the story which had so recently come to an end.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a modern state-of-the-art phone – 3-D display, featherlight construction and made entirely of gleaming glass. A jagged crack stretched diagonally across the main screen like a black lightning bolt. I knew it was probably crammed full of secrets, maybe even access to billions in hidden cash reserves, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to forget, but I did want to move on.
I placed the third phone next to the first two and closed the drawer.
The Old Orchard
by Tony Salter
The family thriller that will grip you until the last page.
Finance Director, Alastair Johnson, is in trouble. He needs a lot of money, and he needs it very soon.
Alastair's solution is unorthodox and completely out of character – the fallout leaves his family torn apart.
But everything is not what it seems ...
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"What a cracking story! Loved the way it all unfolded at the end. Really clever and credible and I didn’t see the twists coming."
"FLIPPIN' BRILLIANT!"
"The Old Orchard is a pacy, tense, domestic thriller which builds an original and satisfying plot around real characters we can believe in. The prose is light and evocative with vivid descriptions and many moments of real insight and human wisdom."
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The Old Orchard is AVAILABLE NOW in paperback or eBook format from Amazon and most booksellers.
Best Eaten Cold
Best Eaten Cold
by Tony Salter
The Bestselling Psychological Thriller you can’t put down.
Imagine that someone wants to do you harm. Someone you once knew, but have almost forgotten.
Now, imagine that they are clever, patient and will not stop. They'll get inside your head and make you doubt yourself.
They'll make you question who you are, and ensure that everyone you care for starts to doubt you too.
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***** "Fast-paced, terrifyingly believable, chilling at times... the kind of book that's hard to put down"
***** "I admire any author who can hold my attention so thrillingly from beginning to end"
***** “Much superior to Girl on the Train.”
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Best Eaten Cold is AVAILABLE NOW in paperback or eBook format from Amazon and most booksellers.
Thanks
Acknowledgements
Writing novels is a solitary task but I don’t think I could enjoy it without some company along the way. Feedback, encouragement and patient support are essential emotional props, but so are the sweeping blows of honest criticism which help to remind me that I am writing for readers and not only for myself.
I need to thank all of my friends and family for their help and, in particular, Sue Brown, Emma Newman, Annie Eccles, Dana Olearnikova and Kath Watson. Thanks also to Jamie Groves at Story Terrace.
Finally, I must thank my wife of twenty-nine years, Gro. Without her love, support, patience and tolerance, none of this would have been possible.
Ends