Lisa Hall - The Party - The gripping new psychological thriller from the bestseller Lisa Hall

LISA HALLis the bestselling author of Between You and Me and Tell Me No Lies . She has dreamed of being a writer since she was a little girl and, after years of talking about it, was finally brave enough to put pen to paper (and let people actually read it). Lisa lives in a small village in Kent, surrounded by her towering TBR pile, a rather large brood of children, dogs, chickens and ponies and her long-suffering husband. She is also rather partial to eating cheese and drinking wine.

Readers can follow Lisa on Twitter @LisaHallAuthor

Copyright

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

Copyright © Lisa Hall 2018

Lisa Hall asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for 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, downloaded, 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.

Ebook Edition © July 2018 ISBN: 9780008215002

Version: 2018-06-07

Praise for Lisa Hall

‘Breathlessly fast-paced and cleverly unsettling, this thriller about a couple trying to escape their past is the very definition of unputdownable.’

Heat

‘An uneasy creeping feeling followed me through the book – I was never quite sure who I should be trusting – I read this book in one sitting because I had to know what was going to happen next. An excellent thriller that had me hooked from the start.’

Katerina Diamond

‘A paranoia-inducing plot that makes you question everyone! Lisa Hall’s new novel is one to get under your skin and has an ending that’ll leave you reeling.’

Sam Carrington

‘Gripping and unforgettable… and will leave you wondering who you should really trust…’

Inside Soap

‘What a page turner! Compelling, chilling and an incredibly impressive debut.’

Alex Brown

To the real life Katie and Amy

In memory of Frank Moylett – some stars burn brighter than others

Don’t you ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t made that particular decision? If you had decided to go right, instead of left? If you had said no, instead of yes? It’s strange how one, tiny, sometimes seemingly insignificant decision can have a knock-on effect on life … like a cleverly constructed domino chain, crashing down into a broken and ruined pile of rubble. Maybe if I had been a little bit stronger, if I hadn’t had that one moment of weakness, where I threw caution to the wind and just did what I wanted to do, as opposed to what I should have done, maybe then, none of this would ever have happened. Life would have gone on as usual, with no tears and recriminations. Nobody would have been hurt. Nobody’s life would have been ruined. There wouldn’t have been any lies, or betrayal, and we all would have carried on living our lives, completely unaware that everybody has two sides to them, completely oblivious to the fact that the people surrounding us carry their own secrets, locked deep inside them. It’s easy to look back and say none of this is my fault, that I am exempt from blame, but deep down, I know that’s not true. All of this – everything that has happened – all of it starts with me. And so now, I have to do what needs to be done. I have to finish it, once and for all.

Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Praise

Dedication

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Short Story

Extract

About the Publisher

1

NEW YEAR’S DAY – THE MORNING AFTER THE PARTY

Something happened. Something bad. That’s the first thought that swims vaguely through my mind as I struggle my way into full consciousness. Followed by the realization that, I don’t know what, but I know it’s not good. My head hurts. I try to open my eyes, the feeble wash of winter sunshine that tries to force its way through the lining of the curtains making me squint in pain. My head hurts and I feel really, really sick. I close my eyes again, willing the thud at my temples to die down and let me go back to sleep, before I crack one eye open again, a vague sense of uneasiness making me reluctant to keep them closed.

Where am I? Peering out from under the duvet cover, the room is unfamiliar to me and I swallow down the nausea that roils in my stomach. In the dim light, I can make out a large chest of drawers pushed against the wall, the top of it free of any clutter, and a mirror hanging above it. A generic picture hangs on the opposite wall, and there is no sign of anything personal – no photos, no make-up, no clutter that tells me that this is someone’s bedroom. A spare room, then, and I seem to be alone, which is good, I think.

The same thought drifts through my mind as when I woke, that something happened last night, something that makes me feel somehow dirty and indecent. Scratching at my arms, I roll on to my back before pushing the duvet away from my clammy face, sweat making my hair stick to my forehead. The touch of fabric against my skin makes me stop for a moment, pausing in my quest to get comfortable, that and the fact that every muscle in my body seems to hurt. Sliding a hand under the covers I feel around – yes, my top is still on. No bottoms though, the fabric against my bare legs is that of the cotton sheets I’m lying on, not my trousers, or pyjama bottoms.

Something bad happened. My heart starts to hammer in my chest as I run my hand over my thighs, wincing at the sharp pain that lances me. Frowning, I push the duvet down, exposing my lower half to the warm air emitted from a large radiator under the window, and struggle my way into a sitting position. Slowly, Rachel, go slowly. As I push up on my elbows to shove my way up the pillows behind me, a surge of saliva spurts into my mouth and I swallow hard, desperate not to be sick. The thumping in my head accelerates and black dots dance at the corners of my eyes.

Closing my eyes again I wait a moment, drawing in a ragged deep breath and letting it out slowly. I’ve never had a hangover like this before. The nausea fades, and I run my hands over my lower half again, the skin on the inside of my thighs feeling bruised and sore. I slide my hands between my legs, and my heart beat doubles as I realize the bruised, raw feeling extends to there too. Oh, God . I lean back against the cool of the pillow, eyes closed again against the watery light, trying my hardest to remember what happened last night. There’s nothing, not a single thing that I can hook my memory on, just that uncertain feeling that something happened to me last night. It’s like there’s a gaping hole in my memory, a black bottomless pit that has sucked away any recollection of the previous evening. Gareth . What about Gareth? Where is he? I have to get home. I have to see Gareth; he’ll be worried ( angry? ) that I didn’t come home last night.