C.L. Taylor - The Accident

Published by Avon an imprint of

HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street,

London, SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

This ebook edition published by HarperCollins Publishers in 2017

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2014

Copyright © C.L. Taylor 2014

Cover photographs © Arcangel/ Shutterstock

Cover design © Henry Steadman

C.L. Taylor asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007540037

Ebook Edition © April 2014 ISBN: 9780007542703

Version: 2020-02-27

‘ The Missing has a delicious sense of foreboding from the first page, luring us into the heart of a family with terrible secrets and making us wait, with pounding hearts for the final, agonizing twist. Loved it.’ Fiona Barton

‘Black Narcissus for the Facebook generation, a clever exploration of how petty jealousies and misunderstandings can unravel even the tightest of friendships. Claustrophobic, tense and thrilling, a thrill-ride of a novel that keeps you guessing.’

Elizabeth Haynes

‘A gripping and disturbing psychological thriller.’

Clare Mackintosh

‘As with all her books, C. L. Taylor delivers real pace, and it’s a story that keeps calling the reader back – so much so that I read it from cover to cover in one day.’

Rachel Abbott

‘A dark and gripping read that engrossed me from start to finish.’

Mel Sherratt

‘Kept me guessing till the end.’

Sun

‘Haunting and heart-stoppingly creepy, The Lie is a gripping roller coaster of suspense.’ Sunday Express

‘5/5 stars – Spine-chilling!’

Woman Magazine

‘An excellent psychological thriller.’

Heat Magazine

‘Packed with twists and turns, this brilliantly tense thriller will get your blood pumping.’

Fabulous Magazine

‘Fast-paced, tense and atmospheric, a guaranteed bestseller.’

Mark Edwards

‘A real page-turner … creepy, horrifying and twisty. You have no idea which characters you can trust, and the result is intriguing, scary and extremely gripping.’

Julie Cohen

‘A compelling, addictive and wonderfully written tale. Can’t recommend it enough.’

Louise Douglas

For Chris Hall

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Praise for C.L. Taylor

Dedication

Chapter 1

Friday 2nd September 1990

Chapter 2

Sunday 4th September 1990

Chapter 3

Wednesday 6th September 1990

Chapter 4

Saturday 9th September 1990

Chapter 5

Saturday 30th September 1990

Chapter 6

Friday 13th October 1990

Chapter 7

Sunday 15th October 1990

Chapter 8

Tuesday 18th October 1990

Chapter 9

Saturday 21st October 1990

Chapter 10

Tuesday 24th October 1990

Chapter 11

Saturday 18th November 1990

Chapter 12

Sunday 17th December 1990

Chapter 13

Wednesday 20th December 1990

Chapter 14

Saturday 4th January 1991

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Sunday 1st April 1991

Chapter 17

Saturday 7th April 1991

Chapter 18

Thursday 31st May 1991

Chapter 19

Friday 8th June 1991

Chapter 20

Wednesday 27th June 1991

Chapter 21

Thursday 21st May 1992

Chapter 22

Wednesday 12th August 1992

Chapter 23

Friday 23rd October 1992

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Acknowledgements

Read on for an extract of Strangers

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Coma. There’s something innocuous about the word, soothing almost in the way it conjures up the image of a dreamless sleep. Only Charlotte doesn’t look as though she’s sleeping to me. There’s no soft heaviness to her closed eyelids. No curled fist pressed up against her temple. No warm breath escaping from her slightly parted lips. There is nothing peaceful at all about the way her body lies, prostrate, on the duvet-less bed, a clear tracheostomy tube snaking its way out of her neck, her chest polka-dotted with multicoloured electrodes.

The heart monitor in the corner of the room bleep-bleep-bleeps, marking the passage of time like a medical metronome and I close my eyes. If I concentrate hard enough I can transform the unnatural chirping into the reassuring tick-tick-tick of the grandfather clock in our living room. Fifteen years fall away in an instant and I am twenty-eight again, cradling baby Charlotte to my shoulder, her slumbering face pressed into the nook of my neck, her tiny heart out-beating mine, even in sleep. Back then it was so much easier to keep her safe.

‘Sue?’ There is a hand on my shoulder, heavy, dragging me back into the stark hospital room and my arms are empty again, save the handbag I clutch to my chest. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

I shake my head then instantly change my mind. ‘Actually, yes.’ I open my eyes. ‘Do you know what else would be nice?’

Brian shakes his head.

‘One of those lovely teacakes from M&S.’

My husband looks confused. ‘I don’t think they sell them in the canteen.’

‘Oh.’ I look away, feigning disappointment and instantly hate myself. It isn’t in my nature to be manipulative. At least I don’t think it is. There’s a lot I don’t know any more.

‘It’s okay.’ There’s that hand again. This time it adds a reassuring squeeze to its repertoire. ‘I can pop into town.’ He smiles at Charlotte. ‘You don’t mind if I leave you alone with your mum for a bit?’

If our daughter heard the question she doesn’t let on. I reply for her by forcing a smile.

‘She’ll be fine,’ I say.

Brian looks from me to Charlotte and back again. There’s no mistaking the look on his face – it’s the same wretched expression I’ve worn for the last six weeks whenever I’ve left Charlotte’s side – terror she might die the second we leave the room.

‘She’ll be fine,’ I repeat, more gently this time. ‘I’ll be here.’

Brian’s rigid posture relaxes, ever so slightly, and he nods. ‘Back soon.’