Lying in Wait(2)

‘Far too impressive to be a debut. A haunting novel about the true strength of human nature’ She Loves to Read

‘This was a treat of a book – one that kept me reading “just another chapter” and needing to know how it all worked out’ Thebookbag.co.uk

‘The originality, cleverness and fantastic characters … were a sheer delight to read’ Cleopatra Loves Books

‘Hooked throughout. 5 Stars’ Plasticrosaries.com

‘To say this book was gripping would be to put it mildly … As an intelligent psychological suspense novel, this is top notch’ Lizlovesbooks.com

‘This is dark, destructive and thought-provoking – not a comfortable read, and all the more interesting for it’ Chick Lit Love

‘Such an intriguing story that I raced through it, I could not got enough of it. I was so keen to find out what happened that I had to stay up late in the night to read every last word. The characters in the story are memorable and the plot is genius. I really loved this intricate tale told with such style and imagination. Go get this immediately!’ Edel’s Book and Beauty Blog

‘Your sympathies swing wildly as the story unfolds. There’s also a lovely wry humour running through what is essentially a really dark and disturbing story … an excellent read’ Being Anne

‘The kind of book that gets its hooks into you and doesn’t let go until you’ve turned the final page. I found it dark, twisted, compelling … and also a lot of fun. There’s the satisfaction of seeing the mystery at the heart of the main character unfold one jigsaw piece at a time as the supporting players fill in the blanks, as well as an overall sense of irony and sly humour. Oliver is a monster, but he’s a witty and entertaining monster with a stunning secret, and this complex and suspenseful novel is a delight’ Asimplejan.com

‘The story had me hooked from the beginning with a very strong start that made my heart pound. I was hoping that the ending would be just as good and I was not disappointed’ Novelescapes.com

‘Stunning’ Random Things Through My Letterbox





For Richard, with all my love





The cold earth slept below,

Above the cold sky shone;

And all around, with a chilling sound,

From caves of ice and fields of snow,

The breath of night like death did flow

Beneath the sinking moon.

Percy Bysshe Shelley





Part 1




* * *





1980





1


Lydia


My husband did not mean to kill Annie Doyle, but the lying tramp deserved it. After we had overcome the initial shock, I tried to stop him speaking of her. I did not allow it unless to confirm alibis or to discuss covering up any possible evidence. It upset him too much and I thought it best to move on as if nothing had happened. Even though we did not talk about it, I couldn’t help going over the events of the night in my mind, each time wishing that some aspect, some detail, could be different, but facts are facts and we must get used to them.

It was the 14th of November 1980. It had all been arranged. Not her death, just the meeting to see if she was genuine, and if not, to get our money back. I walked the strand for twenty minutes to ensure that there was nobody around, but I needn’t have worried. The beach was deserted on that particularly bitter night. When I was satisfied that I was alone, I went to the bench and waited. A cruel wind rushed in with the waves and I pulled my cashmere coat around me and turned up the collar. Andrew arrived promptly and parked not far from where I was seated, as instructed. I watched from thirty yards away. I had told him to confront her. And I wanted to see her for myself, to assess her suitability. They were supposed to get out of the car and walk past me. But they didn’t. After waiting ten minutes, I got up and walked towards the car, wondering what was taking so long. As I got closer, I could hear raised voices. And then I saw them fighting. The passenger door swung open and she tried to get out. But he pulled her back towards him. I could see his hands around her throat. I watched her struggle, mesmerized momentarily, wondering if I could be imagining things, and then I came back to myself, snapped out of my confusion and ran to the car.

‘Stop! Andrew! What are you doing?’ My voice was shrill to my own ears, and her eyes swivelled towards me in shock and terror before they rolled back upwards into her head.

He released her immediately and she fell backwards, gurgling. She was almost but not quite dead, so I grabbed the crook lock from the footwell at her feet and smashed it down on to her skull, just once. There was blood and a little twitching and then absolute stillness.

I’m not sure why I did that. Instinct?

She looked younger than her twenty-two years. I could see past the lurid make-up, the dyed black hair, almost navy. There was a jagged white scar running from a deformed top lip to the septum of her nose. I wondered that Andrew had never thought to mention that. Her jacket had been pulled off one arm during the struggle and I saw bloodied scabs in the crook of her elbow. There was a sarcastic expression on her face, a smirk that death could not erase. I like to think I did the girl a kindness, like putting an injured bird out of its misery. She did not deserve such consideration.

Andrew has always had a short fuse, blowing up at small, insignificant things and then, almost immediately, remorseful and calm. This time, however, he was hysterical, crying and screaming fit to wake the dead.