Diane Jeffrey - Those Who Lie - the gripping new thriller you won’t be able to stop talking about

‘Mrs Klein hadn’t been told yet that Mr Klein was killed in the accident,’ the nurse hisses at Sergeant Campbell, who looks unperturbed.

Campbell’s mobile phone rings out and shatters the silence that ensues. The police officer takes the call.

Staff Nurse Peterson glares at the redhead while talking soothingly to Emily whose eyes dart from one woman to the other. The sergeant, impervious to the nurse’s disapproval, continues to mumble into her phone. When she has ended the call, Campbell taps her colleague on the shoulder.

‘Let’s go,’ she says to Constable. ‘I am sorry,’ she mutters to Emily who isn’t sure if Campbell is apologising or expressing her condolences. Then she turns and heads for the door without so much as a cursory glance in Staff Nurse Peterson’s direction.

PC Constable gets up from his seat, and tells Emily how sorry he is for her loss. Then he leaves the hospital room before his superior, who is holding the door open for him.

Emily clearly hears Campbell’s words as she follows Constable out: ‘The witness has finally turned up at the station to give his statement.’

Just as Emily is wondering if Campbell’s phone call and witness have anything to do with her, Staff Nurse Peterson hangs the chart up on the end of her bed and says, ‘Don’t worry. You concentrate on getting better. You’ll be home in no time.’

But Emily barely registers what the nurse says. Greg is dead , Emily thinks. I was driving the car. I didn’t kill him. I can’t have killed him . The thought of going home without Greg fills her with despair and dread.

Chapter Two

~

Devon, Christmas Eve, 1995

At half past nine, Josephine Cavendish was already snoring on the sofa in front of the television. Emily decided to go to bed although she knew there was no way she’d be able to sleep. Not tonight.

As she cleaned her teeth, she could hear Michael Stipe’s voice coming from the end of the corridor. Half a World Away . Amanda stayed up here a lot listening to REM. She also liked Pearl Jam and Nirvana. Even when she wasn’t listening to music, she seemed to spend as much time as possible in her bedroom. Perhaps she feels safe in hers , Emily thought.

Emily opened the door to her own room, which was larger than her sister’s. Through the window she could see it was pitch-black and wet outside. She switched on the lamp by her bed and drew the curtains to shut out the night. She smiled wistfully at the Sarah Kay design. Here the girl was cradling a puppy; there she was holding a basket of flowers. Everywhere she was carefree. The curtains had never been replaced even though they were faded from the sunlight and Emily had outgrown them long ago.

She thought about reading, and walked over to her bookcase. It was crammed with books, from the classics – Dickens, Austen, the Brontës – to modern bestsellers of different genres such as Jurassic Park, Diana: Her True Story, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin and The Silence of the Lambs . Her novels allowed her to escape. And she desperately needed to escape. But she couldn’t choose one. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate, anyway.

From the top row of her bookcase, at least a dozen teddy bears observed her bedroom through kind, beady eyes. She hadn’t played with her teddies for years, and they looked tatty, but she didn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Throwing them away would somehow have felt like giving up her childhood. Or giving up on it.

She turned around, imagining what the teddies could see from up there. They seemed to be looking at her double bed. Her parents had given it to her the previous year for her fourteenth birthday, although her mother hadn’t really been happy about it. Emily liked the colourful spiral patterns on the duvet cover, but the bed was too big for her.

She pulled on her nightie and climbed into bed. She could still hear the music faintly, although she couldn’t make out the song. Another one from the same album, no doubt. Out of Time . It occurred to her that her heart was beating too fast; it was out of time with the song. Lying on her side, she brought her knees up and hugged them to her chest. She felt cold in spite of the bedcover. She was wide awake. She looked at her watch on the bedside table. Ten o’clock. She felt sick with nerves.

She’d always been afraid at night-time, although when she was younger, her fears were unfounded. It was just that she was terrified of the dark. Amanda would make fun of her for that, but she’d often sung to her or stroked her head until she fell asleep. Sometimes they would even drag Amanda’s mattress along the corridor so she could sleep on Emily’s floor. In the end, their father said it was time Emily grew up and he forbade the girls to sleep in the same room.

The music stopped suddenly and a door banged. Emily’s throat felt tight and she couldn’t breathe. It’s too early. I’m not ready yet , she thought, alarmed.

Then she heard a floorboard creak on the landing, followed a few seconds later by the rattle of water pipes. She heaved a sigh of relief. It was only Amanda. There was the noise of the toilet flushing, then a gentle knock at her bedroom door.

‘I’m awake,’ she called out to her sister. She sat up in bed.

The door opened and Amanda came in and walked towards her. She was wearing tartan pyjamas. Her long, mousy hair was loose and wavy from the plaits she always let out at bedtime. ‘Night, Em,’ she said.

‘Goodnight.’

Amanda sat on the edge of the bed and Emily looked into her eyes. They were a murky brown, the same colour as their father’s. Emily had inherited their mother’s pale blue eyes. Amanda gave her a hug. Emily could feel herself trembling.

‘You’re cold,’ Amanda said, sounding concerned.

That wasn’t the only reason Emily was shaking, and she thought her sister probably knew that. But she didn’t contradict her. What could Amanda do anyway? She rubbed Emily’s arms as if to warm them. Neither of them spoke for a few seconds.

Canned laughter suddenly erupted from the sitting room below, breaking the silence.

‘Mum still in front of the TV?’

‘Yeah.’ Emily didn’t need to add that she was dead to the world.

After a while, Amanda pecked Emily’s cheek and got up.

‘Don’t go,’ Emily pleaded, but her elder sister had already left the room.

The door to Amanda’s bedroom along the hallway closed with a thud, and Emily glanced at her watch again. Half past ten. She became aware of the sound of her own breathing over the indistinct din of the sitcom. She could also hear the wind howling outside and the rain beating against the windowpane. She was alone and helpless. A sob welled up inside her but she fought to contain it. I have to stay strong , she thought. She needed to calm her nerves. She decided to read after all.

On her bedside table was a huge stack of books that looked like it would topple over at any minute. At the top of the pile was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland . Emily’s middle name was Alice. Her father’s mother, whose memory was getting bad due to Alzheimer’s, bought her a copy of Lewis Carroll’s novel every year for Christmas and she dutifully reread the book each time. It had always been her favourite story, and she never grew tired of it. Her grandmother had given her this edition – her sixth copy – just two days ago. When she was younger, Emily had traced and copied the illustrations, and after that she’d created her own sketches for each chapter.

She flicked through the blue leather-bound volume to the part she liked best in the whole book: the Hatter’s Tea-Party. She read the bit where Alice was told that they took tea all day long since Time had stood still at six o’clock, in other words, at teatime. If only time could stand still for me tonight , she wished silently. But it was nearly eleven now. Her stomach was heavy with dread. She was terrified she wouldn’t be able to go through with it.