Local Girl Missing

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Local Girl Missing Page 28

by Claire Douglas


  Even though the house was tidy there was evidence that a family lived there: expensive perfumes in the bathroom, clothes in the wardrobes (I couldn’t help but take a peak: long summer dresses, flouncy blouses, strappy sandals, a man’s linen suits), a pile of trainers in the boot room and a few board games in the smallest bedroom. There didn’t seem to be enough stuff for it to be the Heywood’s main home, it wasn’t crammed to the rafters with junk like our flat was. I suspected it was just their holiday house.

  The master bedroom was in the circular turret with curved floor-length windows. A four-poster bed dominated the room, all pale oak and floating muslin. I stood gazing out at the beach and the sea beyond. I couldn’t see another soul.

  I felt Jamie’s presence next to me and he put an arm around my shoulder. ‘It looks as though you can walk through the garden to the beach.’ He sighed. ‘God, Libs, what a stroke of luck.’ I turned to face him, noting the bags under his eyes, his grey complexion, and pushed down my uneasiness, convincing myself the Cornish air would be good for him. And for me. I still had nightmares about that day at school, the intruder, his assault. It was lovely to get away. To forget for a while.

  I glanced at Jamie; he still dressed like a student in his polo shirt, ripped jeans and trainers. ‘We should have taken our shoes off,’ I said, looking pointedly at his scruffy Converse. ‘And we’re going to have to keep Ziggy’s paws clean. We should have bought those dog socks that we saw in the pet shop that time.’ I giggled at the thought of Ziggy in the florescent green socks. He’d never forgive us.

  Jamie laughed, loud and heartily. It echoed around the house. I hadn’t heard that sound enough in the last few months and it made my heart soar.

  I told myself to be happy, in that moment, that Jamie deserved this holiday, that we were lucky to spend a week in the Heywood’s wonderful home. It was a place we could never have afforded to stay in otherwise.

  I wish I’d trusted my instincts. I wish we had turned around and gone back to Bath. But it’s easy to think that now, in hindsight. It’s easy to think we should have made a run for it when on that first day we had no reason to feel unsafe. That came later.

  THE BEGINNING

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  PENGUIN BOOKS

  UK | USA | Canada | Ireland | Australia

  India | New Zealand | South Africa

  Penguin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.

  First published 2016

  Text copyright © Claire Douglas, 2016

  Cover images © Mia Takahara/Plainpicture, © Brian Harris/Alamy Stock Photo, © Martin Braito/Getty Images and © Carole Sergeant/Getty Images.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  ISBN: 978-1-405-92640-9

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About the Author

  Dedication

  THURSDAY

  1: Frankie

  2: Sophie

  FRIDAY

  3: Frankie

  4: Sophie

  5: Frankie

  SATURDAY

  6: Frankie

  7: Sophie

  8: Frankie

  9: Sophie

  10: Frankie

  SUNDAY

  11: Sophie

  12: Frankie

  13: Sophie

  14: Frankie

  15: Sophie

  16: Frankie

  17: Sophie

  18: Frankie

  19: Sophie

  20: Frankie

  21: Sophie

  22: Frankie

  23: Sophie

  MONDAY

  24: Frankie

  25: Sophie

  26: Frankie

  27: Sophie

  28: Frankie

  29: Sophie

  TUESDAY

  30: Frankie

  31: Sophie

  32: Frankie

  33: Sophie

  34: Frankie

  35: Sophie

  36: Frankie

  37: Sophie

  38: Frankie

  39: Frankie

  40: Sophie

  Epilogue: Sophie

  Reading Group Questions

  Acknowledgements

  Read more

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  Copyright Page

 

 

 


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