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

Emily Klein doesn’t know her husband has died until the day of his funeral.

But, as she pieces together the events before his death – events that led to her own memory loss – Emily begins to suspect that his death may not have been such a tragic accident after all.

If only she could remember…

The question is: are there some memories that Emily should leave alone?

Those Who Lie

Diane Jeffrey

ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

Contents

Cover

Blurb Emily Klein doesn’t know her husband has died until the day of his funeral. But, as she pieces together the events before his death – events that led to her own memory loss – Emily begins to suspect that his death may not have been such a tragic accident after all. If only she could remember… The question is: are there some memories that Emily should leave alone?

Title Page Those Who Lie Diane Jeffrey ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

Author Bio DIANE JEFFREY Diane Jeffrey grew up in North Devon. She lives and teaches English in Lyon, France. She is the mother of three children, and the mistress of one disobedient Labrador and one crazy kitten. THOSE WHO LIE is her debut psychological thriller. Diane has a BA Joint Honours degree in French and German from the University of Nottingham and an MA in English Literature and Linguistics from the Université Jean Moulin Lyon III. In her free time, she devours novels and chocolate. She also swims a lot and runs a little. Above all, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends. Diane’s imagination often runs amok and gets her up in the night to scribble down ideas for her writing. Incredibly, her supportive long-suffering husband puts up with this. Readers can follow Diane on Twitter or on Facebook @dianefjeffrey facebook.com/dianejeffreyauthor

Dedication For my grandmother, Carrie. We still miss you.

Part One ~ Part One ~

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Part Two

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Copyright

DIANE JEFFREY

Diane Jeffrey grew up in North Devon. She lives and teaches English in Lyon, France. She is the mother of three children, and the mistress of one disobedient Labrador and one crazy kitten.

THOSE WHO LIE is her debut psychological thriller.

Diane has a BA Joint Honours degree in French and German from the University of Nottingham and an MA in English Literature and Linguistics from the Université Jean Moulin Lyon III.

In her free time, she devours novels and chocolate. She also swims a lot and runs a little. Above all, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends.

Diane’s imagination often runs amok and gets her up in the night to scribble down ideas for her writing. Incredibly, her supportive long-suffering husband puts up with this.

Readers can follow Diane on Twitter or on Facebook

@dianefjeffrey

facebook.com/dianejeffreyauthor

For my grandmother, Carrie. We still miss you.

~ Part One ~

Chapter One

~

Oxford, August 2014

Emily Klein doesn’t know she has killed him until the day of his funeral. Her loved ones, including, of course, her husband, are all at the church rather than at her bedside. That explains why there are no familiar faces around her this time when she regains consciousness.

The room swims in and out of focus, and, at first, she has no idea where she is. But then it comes back to her. She’s trying to remember why she’s here when a cough to her right startles her. She isn’t alone. Her neck hurts as she turns her head, expecting to see Greg, or her sister, or at the very least her mother. Instead, her eyes rest on the broad chest of one of the two strangers sitting beside her bed.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Klein,’ the stranger says in a deep voice.

Emily looks up into the kind face of a burly man. He appears to be around the same age as her. He has a bushy moustache containing far more hair than he has on his balding head. He’s smiling at her a little lopsidedly. Emily attempts to smile back, but her lips feel as if they’re glued to her teeth.

Next to him sits a thin woman who also seems to be in her mid-thirties. She has a dour expression on her pretty face, and her hair is cropped very short and dyed a copper-red. She inches her chair forwards, closer to Emily’s bed. The legs of the chair make a scraping sound on the floor. Emily feels intimidated.

‘I’m Sergeant Campbell,’ the woman says, fixing her piercing, green eyes on Emily, ‘and this is my colleague.’ She waves her hand towards the robust man as she introduces him by name, but Emily only catches the word ‘Constable’.

Emily must look bemused because the constable smiles at her again from beneath his impressive moustache. He means this reassuringly, she supposes, but the right side of his face appears more animated than the left, and Emily finds his crooked grin rather unsettling.

What’s going on? What do the police want? Emily can’t shake off the unnerving impression that something is very wrong.

‘What can you tell us about your movements on Friday the first of August?’ asks the redhead officiously, whipping out a notebook and a pen from a pocket in her uniform. She has a lilting Scottish accent that mitigates the hard edge to her voice.

Emily tries to speak, but she’s very thirsty and no sound comes out. She clears her throat.

‘May I have a drink of water, please?’ she asks.

Her head is pounding.

The constable pours some water from the transparent, plastic jug on the cupboard and presses a button on the remote control to raise Emily’s bed. Then he gives her the glass. He watches her, a concerned look on his face, as she takes a few tentative sips before handing back the glass.

‘The first of August, Mrs Klein,’ the sergeant repeats, ‘what happened on that day?’

‘Well, that’s my mother’s birthday,’ Emily begins. Her throat is still dry and her voice sounds strange. ‘Oh, that’s right; I’d sent her some flowers and bought her a necklace. I rang to wish her a happy birthday. She turned sixty-five.’ Emily plucks at the stiff, white sheets before she adds, ‘She is…um, she has been ill recently, for a long time really, and…well, she’s doing a lot better at the moment. We’re so proud of her.’

‘We?’ the sergeant echoes.

‘My sister and I,’ Emily says, and then the thought strikes her. ‘Where is she? Where’s my sister?’ she asks. Amanda was there last time Emily opened her eyes, she’s sure of it.

The sergeant ignores Emily’s outburst. ‘What happened after that?’

Emily shifts her gaze to the friendlier face of the constable. Are these two police officers real? They seem like caricatures, characters from a bad television series.

‘I met my husband for lunch,’ she answers, wondering where Greg is.

The constable doesn’t give her a chance to voice her concern. ‘Where?’ he asks, sounding genuinely interested.