The Hidden Girl (39 page)
The nursery rhyme continued till Elvie reached verse ten.
‘Thank you, Elvie,’ the therapist said. ‘I wonder what that nursery rhyme is about?’
Hannah knew the woman was testing the responses from Elvie, but she couldn’t help herself. She squeezed Elvie’s hand in hers.
‘It’s about waiting, isn’t it, Elvie? Killing time,’ Hannah said. ‘Counting the days till something happens, even when you don’t know if it ever will.’
She thought of Will.
Back in London, Will finally turned over the photo of the little girl on his desk. Her eyes met his, from within the shadows.
He stared. She was amazing. She was everything he’d ever imagined. Her eyes seemed to be asking him what he was waiting for.
Three months later
The sun was out in London. It was July and the city appeared to have emptied out for the summer.
Even though it was half-past nine on a Monday morning the North Circular route around London was quiet. They turned off onto a road into east London, then took various turns, still following the satnav. For the second time this morning it lost its way, due to a new road layout.
‘No!’ Hannah cried. ‘It’s gone again.’
‘Why haven’t we updated it?’ Will said.
‘I don’t know. Why
haven’t
we updated it?’
‘Where’s the map?’
‘Why are you asking me? I’m not the bloody First Officer.’
And so it went on for two more minutes, until Hannah spotted the main road they were meant to turn right at, and shouted for Will to brake.
He reversed and they pulled into a long road of neat terraces.
‘OK, we’re five minutes early,’ Hannah said. ‘Where’s Barbara’s car?’
‘Can’t see it,’ Will said, turning off the engine.
Hannah sat back and stared at the house.
They were here.
A familiar white hatchback drew up and parked in front of them. Barbara climbed out and waved.
Will wound down the window.
‘Right. Give me a few minutes,’ Barbara said. ‘I’ll tell you when to come.’ She laughed. ‘I love this bit!’
She walked in through the gate of the house two doors along.
Hannah and Will fell into silence.
‘Oh my God! This is it,’ Hannah said. ‘What if, after all this, I’m crap at it? What if I’m a terrible mother?’
Will leant over and brushed a stray hair back from her face. ‘It’ll be fine.’
Barbara emerged from the house and waved them in.
They got out of the car and walked up the driveway towards the door, the photo in Hannah’s pocket, where it had been for the past three months, welded to her skin.
They walked through the doorway into a hall and saw a woman in shadow at the end, with a little figure held high in her solid, safe arms.
A flash of sunlight on red curls.
A finger in a mouth.
A child hoping that everyone was telling the truth, and knowing that she had no choice but to trust them.
Hannah walked in, Will walked in, and the child’s eyes flicked between them.
The front door closed.
Many thanks to Trisha Jackson and all the team at Pan Macmillan, and to Lizzy Kremer and everyone at David Higham Associates.
I spend a lot of time pestering nice people to help me with research, so a big thanks also to Nick Southwood and Tom D for showing me around a music studio; Roz Chandler at Field Gate Flowers; and to Sarah, Paul, Jo, Fin, Simon, Shirley, Flic, Chopper and Karen, whose insights and advice were invaluable throughout.
A special thanks, too, to Fiona and Andy for their brilliant support this year. Couldn’t have done it without you!
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A brilliant and chilling evocation of modern life, in which friendships may be long-standing but remain superficial.
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‘I started reading and couldn’t stop . . . a must-read that will tap into every mother’s primal fears’
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When a mysterious neighbour starts to take more than a passing interest in her, Kate tries to stay rational and ignore it.
Maybe this, however, is the one time Kate should be worried.
Praise for
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‘Compelling psychological thriller’
Publishers Weekly
‘Taut, chilling, utterly brilliant; my thriller of the year’
Lisa Jewell
‘You won’t be able to put down this suspenseful thriller – except to pass it on to your friends’
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