by Lynda Stacey
A violent trembling began at her toes and worked its way upwards, until every part of her body shook with terror. But the fear was no longer for herself. It was for Beth. For her sister. ‘She’s just a child, a baby.’ Consumed with anger, she tried to stand. Felt a short sharp scream leave her throat, as the barrel of a gun was pulled from his coat. It glinted in the moonlight. Pointed at her.
‘Take him down.’ Niall’s voice cut through the darkness. Dillon launched himself through the air and over the railway sleepers, making Molly fall to the floor and cover her ears as she tried to muffle the loud, sickening screams, all coming from Charlie, as Dillon took hold.
48
Eight months later
Carrying her trainers, Molly took advantage of the morning sun, inched her jeans up her legs and carefully pressed her toes into the wet sand, allowing the rolling waves to gently lap up and over them with the incoming tide.
‘Here you go, boy.’ She picked up the ball and tossed it pathetically across the sand. She laughed at her effort, then tipped her head to one side, arched her brow and gave Dillon a look as he turned his nose up at the ball, ran past it and straight into the sea, where he bit at the water and shook his head violently, obviously disgusted by the taste.
‘Moll,’ Niall shouted from the edge of the cliff, ‘the guys have almost finished packing, do you want to come and check things?’
Looking up, she slowly shook her head. Allowed herself to look past him with the same wishful eyes she’d had as a child. Felt the nostalgia sweep around her as she could still imagine her mother sitting there on the beach beside her, next to the sandcastles. Pointing to the house. Saying how much she loved it. How much she’d love to live there. Her enthusiasm had been more than addictive and had Molly not been a child, she would have realised that those visits had never really been a simple trip to the seaside. She just wished she’d known how much a part of their lives Michael should have been, and the truth behind her parentage. It was just another secret their mother had taken to the grave. Although no one could understand why their mum and Michael had lived separate lives or how over the years, they’d managed to keep in touch. The only obvious answer they had was that their mother had known how things would turn out. She’d known all along what Charlie was capable of and, after they’d put him away, what revenge he’d want to take.
Yet, even with the impending danger, their mother had finally chosen to live the life she’d always wanted. A life with the man she had loved since childhood. Even though, by doing so, they probably knew they were sealing their own fate.
Stepping out of the water, Molly felt the roughness of the sand beneath her feet and walked towards the steps. She turned. Took in a deep breath. Closed her eyes and traced the sand with her toe. ‘It’s my beach now,’ she whispered into the air, but where on this beach she’d previously felt her mother’s arms wrap themselves around her, now she just felt a calmness, a deep longing for what should have been, what they could have had and for what was to come.
Jumping down the last of the steps, Niall wrapped his arms tightly around her, lifted a hand gently to her face, cupped her chin and grazed her lips with his. ‘Once we’ve got your furniture into mine, I’ll send the guys over to your grandparents’, start moving them out of the farm and into the house.’ He laughed, rolled his eyes. ‘Which reminds me, I’d best get one of the guys to start building that run, otherwise we’ll have Dillon chasing the damn chickens all over the beach.’
Molly nodded, kissed him gently on the neck, nuzzled in and took in the deep, earthy aroma of his aftershave. ‘What would I do without you?’ It was a question that needed no answer as she lifted her face to his, slowly kissed him.
Taking his hand in hers, she followed him back up the steps. ‘I’m amazed we convinced our gran and grandad to move here at all. Grandad hated the place, just like Beth, who never did want to live here.’ Her arm swept outwards. Pointed to the sea. To the rolling waves and to the way they splashed up and over the rocks. ‘She never saw the beauty, not the way we do.’ Reaching the top of the cobbled path, she turned in his arms, looked out to sea. ‘Even though she got to meet Jackson here, she’d have much rather lived in town, with the unlimited Wi-Fi, shops and all of her friends, living right on her doorstep.’
‘And now?’
Molly heard the giggle. She could hear Beth’s voice over the sound of the waves. Caught sight of her bikini-clad sister as she ran past her and down the steps, the gunshot scar on her stomach clear to see. ‘It’s my survival scar,’ she’d said on so many occasions but had never again spoken of either Dan or of Charlie. Only of the night when a bullet had torn through her, leaving her to fight for life, and the way Jackson had found her, close to death. He’d raised the alarm, stayed by her side, promised he wouldn’t leave her. While all the time he’d gripped her hand, given her three consecutive squeezes, and meant them. Then, as her life had slipped from her, she’d seen Niall rushing in, her very own hero, who’d maintained her airway, stopped her bleeding and kept her alive until the paramedics had got there.
Kissing Niall’s cheek on the way past, Beth bounced down the steps in bare feet. Her love of shoes had gone, and with a surfboard under her arm and Jackson close behind her, she headed straight for the sea, leaving Molly to watch in horror as a large wave hit them both, tossed them back up and onto the sand, where Beth squealed and lay laughing in Jackson’s arms.
Finally, she’d taken on the look of the carefree and independent young woman Molly had always hoped she’d become. And with her heart bursting with pride, Molly turned in Niall’s arms, looked up and into his eyes, saw the love that shone within them.
Without hesitation, she squeezed his hand three times and pressed her lips firmly to his. ‘And now?’ She repeated his question. ‘Well, now… I’d say that there’s no place like home. Wouldn’t you?’
Acknowledgments
As a teenager I used to stay at one of the houses at Hunmanby Gap. I used to love looking out over the bay and watching the fishing boats early in the morning as they returned to the bay of Filey and although my novel is loosely based upon this area, in reality the lane is much shorter, the houses much more beautiful and not at all run down or derelict and of course, like all my other stories this is one of fiction and in no way reflects the lives of the owners or their history.
Now, onto those I would like to thank. Firstly, I’d like to thank the people this book was dedicated to. To the hundreds of people who were key workers and, like myself, worked every single day of the pandemic and put themselves at risk, for the sake of others. In my eyes, you’re all heroes. Thank you.
Thank you also to my husband, to Haydn. He’s supported me in everything I’ve ever done and puts up with the rollercoaster that I constantly seem to be on. The last thirty years have been quite a ride, but I’m so pleased we’ve taken it together. As always, I love you loads.
For friends: Annemarie Brear, who shares her friendship and advice on a daily basis. And for Jenny Woodall, who is like another mother, a wonderful friend who keeps me on the straight and narrow, the amazing Jean Fullerton who always seems to know when I need a chat and for Kathy Kilner, who has been a great friend for over thirty years. I have no idea what I’d do without any of you.
Additionally, I’d like to thank amazing friends, Chrissie, Milly, Amanda, Rachel, Sadie and Jane. You keep me going every single day. You rock and I love you all.
After a year of uncertainty, I’d like to thank my new publisher, Boldwood Books, and my lovely editor, Emily Ruston, who has been an absolute pleasure to work with. Thank you for offering me this opportunity, for loving my stories as much as I do and for believing in me. You’ve been a great support to me this year. And, after a lot of hard work, we finally have a great book to be proud of. Thank you.
And finally, to you, to my dear reader. Thank you so much for buying and reading No Place Like Home. I really loved writing this book and hope you enjoyed following the story of Molly and Beth, fo
llowing them through the smiles and the heartache, along with the trauma they went through and, eventually, the happiness they found. I’m sure you’ll agree that they both really deserved it.
Like all other authors, I’ve been on quite a writing journey and I still find it surreal that my novels are ‘out there’ and that you, the readers, are buying them. With that in mind, I’d love to know your thoughts and I’d be delighted if you’d take just a few moments to leave me a review on whichever platform you bought it from.
Please feel free to contact me anytime. On Twitter I am @Lyndastacey and on Facebook I am Lynda Stacey Author. I’m always happy to hear from you.
If you’d like to receive my quarterly newsletter, please contact me giving permission (because of data protection), and please include your full name on the contact form that you can find on my website: www.lyndastacey.co.uk
Once again, thank you for reading my sixth novel, it was a pleasure to write it for you!
With much love,
Lynda x
More from Lynda Stacey
We hope you enjoyed reading No Place Like Home. If you did, please leave a review.
* * *
If you’d like to gift a copy, this book is also available as a paperback, digital audio download and audiobook CD.
About the Author
Lynda Stacey is the bestselling psychological suspense author of five novels. Alongside her writing she is a fulltime sales director for an office furniture company and has been a nurse, an emergency first response instructor and a PADI Staff Instructor. She lives near Doncaster with her husband.
* * *
Visit Lynda’s website: http://www.lyndastacey.co.uk/
* * *
Follow Lynda on social media:
About Boldwood Books
Boldwood Books is a fiction publishing company seeking out the best stories from around the world.
* * *
Find out more at www.boldwoodbooks.com
* * *
Sign up to the Book and Tonic newsletter for news, offers and competitions from Boldwood Books!
* * *
We’d love to hear from you, follow us on social media:
First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Boldwood Books Ltd.
* * *
Copyright © Lynda Stacey, 2021
Cover Design by Head Design
Cover Photography: Shutterstock
* * *
The moral right of Lynda Stacey to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Paperback ISBN 978-1-80162-580-7
Hardback ISBN 978-1-80162-575-3
Large Print ISBN 978-1-80162-576-0
Ebook ISBN 978-1-80162-573-9
Kindle ISBN 978-1-80162-574-6
Audio CD ISBN 978-1-80162-581-4
MP3 CD ISBN 978-1-80162-578-4
Digital audio download ISBN 978-1-80162-572-2
Boldwood Books Ltd
23 Bowerdean Street
London SW6 3TN
www.boldwoodbooks.com