The Hike(71)

Or maybe it had always been A – just with a few variations along the way.

She watched Frank as the train slowed and the station sign appeared on the platform.

Karlsruhe. She’d no idea what was there, but she knew there was a connection to Munich. Frank might be going to Berlin to start his new life with his new name, but she wasn’t going with him.

She reached up and pulled down her bag. Nodding at the woman behind the bar, saying a silent thank you as she left. A quiet understanding passing between the two women. The woman had not commented on Cat’s injuries, but she couldn’t have failed to notice them, despite the baseball cap and the long sleeves.

The train stopped and Cat climbed down on to the platform. She waited for a few minutes, until it pulled away. No one was getting on at this stop. No one else was getting off. As the restaurant carriage passed, she saw Frank’s head against the window. He was sound asleep. Completely out of it. He probably wouldn’t wake until he reached Berlin – and by then she would be long gone.

She pulled out the handle of her bag and flipped out the wheels. Then she reached into her pocket and took out the mini-Maglite torch.

Epic Solutions.

The woman at the trade fair in Ascot had been so impressed with Cat’s skills, organising such a complex event – she’d offered her a job on the spot. She had many companies, she’d said. Her headquarters were in Munich. Cat turned the torch over in her fingers, smiling at the email address on the back. She had contacted the woman a couple of months ago, asked if it was a genuine job offer. Explained that she needed to get away . . . and that she might have to change her name. The woman had understood. She’d said she had big plans. Couldn’t wait to work with her.

She remembered Tristan, in her bed, at the end of that long working day. His offer to help her with her problems. Help her sort things out. A plan, he’d said. But she already had a plan.

She had always been very good at making plans.

Cat walked across the quiet concourse, looking for her platform. Another connecting train, and a little while to wait first. Luckily there was a café open, and she went in and ordered herself a peppermint tea.

She really wanted a proper drink. She would’ve loved a gin on the train. But she couldn’t risk it. Not until she did a test. She laid a hand on her stomach, wondering if there was a little life inside there, a tiny bean, already starting to grow shoots and form itself into a little human. She would do a test in Munich. And she would tell her new boss straight away. This didn’t have to be a blocker to her new life. In fact, it might even enhance it.

Another slight change of plan, perhaps. But certainly nothing she couldn’t deal with. She sipped her tea, inhaling the minty steam. Glanced up at the departures board.

Not long now, until her brand-new life was ready to begin.





ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


The idea for this book was sparked during a real-life hike on the trail described in this novel. It was while I was standing on the scary steep ridge, too tired to carry on, trying not to look down into the valley for fear that I would tumble to my death, when one of my companions said, ‘Look, isn’t that a red kite?’ and I looked on in awe as the incredible bird hovered there, while wondering to myself – what if one of us fell right now? And the inevitable afterthought . . . what if one of us was pushed?

Haha! Luckily none of us fell or were pushed, and we miraculously did make it back before the hot tub closed for the night. Moral of the story: never go to dangerous places with a crime writer.

Thank you as always, to my brilliant agent Phil Patterson. I pray every day that he doesn’t become a victim of friendly fire while out walking his dog near the rifle range because I really do need him.

Huge thanks to Victoria Haslam, my Thomas & Mercer editor and champion. It’s so much fun working with you and I love everything you’ve done for me and this book.

Possibly the biggest thanks ever go to my developmental editor Russel McLean – who pulled the charred bones of this book from the wreckage and helped me to see what it was meant to be. Me and Jessica are forever in your debt.

I probably wouldn’t have finished this book without the support of my crime writing crew, who shall remain anonymous in case I forget someone.

Thank you to my readers – the bloggers, the reviewers, the reading champions. Everything I do, I do it for you . . .

Massive thanks to Catherine Baxendale, for generously bidding for her name in the book via last year’s CLIC Sargent auction, and for her lovely seahorse gift that I know was very traumatic to purchase. Two things I love about Cat – she has a phobia of seahorses (try wedging that into an Alpine-set thriller), and her maiden name is Holliday!

As always, thank you to my friends and family for their constant love and support.

And finally, to JLOH . . . from the bottom of my pencil case.





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ABOUT THE AUTHOR



Susi Holliday grew up near Edinburgh and worked in the pharmaceutical industry for many years before she started writing. A lifelong fan of crime and horror, her short stories have been published in various places, and she was shortlisted for the inaugural CWA Margery Allingham Prize. She is the acclaimed author of nine novels and a novella. The film adaptation of her Trans-Siberian-set psychological thriller Violet is currently in development.