Amanda Brooke - Don’t Turn Around - A heart-stopping gripping domestic suspense

‘No, it was the first thing I asked. His mum moved to Bootle and he’s living there with her. I don’t know where exactly,’ he answers before I can ask.

I’m relieved that Lewis is living north of the city but it’s still too close. ‘What else have they found out?’

‘Nothing really,’ Charlie tries, only to squirm under my gaze. ‘He’s a personal trainer.’

‘Successful?’

Charlie shrugs. ‘No idea. He works freelance at a hotel.’

It’s like pulling teeth. ‘Which one?’

‘I don’t know, Jen. Honestly, I haven’t taken that much notice. Does it matter?’

I push past Charlie and cross the living room towards the window. Across the sprawling city, lights are flickering on as the summer’s day draws to a close. My eyes travel the route I take to work along the Strand to Mann Island and I’m struck by how many hotels I can see. ‘What if it’s one of those? What if I walk past him every day?’

Charlie keeps his hands in his pockets as he approaches. He’s heard the tremble in my voice and when he realises it’s my entire body shaking, he pulls me back into his arms. ‘He’s not interested in us, Jen. If I thought he was a threat, I would have done something about it,’ he tells me.

It’s a nice thought but what Charlie gains in height, Lewis always made up for in muscle, and if he’s working as a personal trainer, I imagine he’s more than a match for my would-be hero. ‘The only reason you don’t think he’s a threat is because that’s what Lewis wants you to believe. He’s bad news, Charlie. He always was. Why can’t you see that?’

‘I do,’ he says, kissing the top of my head. ‘But none of us are teenagers any more. What happened with Meg changed us and I bet it changed Lewis too. He’ll have enough on his plate looking after his mum. It’s time for us all to get on with our lives.’

‘Unless you’re Meg,’ I remind him.

As I close my eyes, I replay the snatches of video included in this evening’s news report; Meg blowing out candles on her tenth birthday, playing football on the beach with me and Sean, taking centre stage in a school play. But then my thoughts turn to Ruth, her voice breaking as she told the reporter how Meg’s death was a slow and painful process that began when Lewis invaded our lives.

‘It’s not fair. He can’t come back here and expect us all to forget what he did,’ I say, only to realise that Ruth has made sure he knows that we haven’t. ‘It’s not over. It was stupid to believe it ever was.’

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