Hannah Emery - Secrets in the Shadows

Hannah Emery

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Hannah Emery Hannah Emery I studied English at the University of Chester and I have written stories for as long as I can remember. I love writing about how fragile the present is and how so much of it depends on chance events that took place years ago. My favourite things in life are my family, my friends, books, baking on a Saturday afternoon, going out for champagne and dinner and having cosy weekends away. I live in Blackpool with my husband and our little girl. Find out more at hannahcemery.wordpress.com and follow me on Twitter @hannahcemery.

Dedication For my family: past, present and future

PART ONE

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

PART TWO

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

PART THREE

Chapter Eighteen

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

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

PART FOUR

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Nine

About HarperImpulse

Copyright

About the Publisher

I studied English at the University of Chester and I have written stories for as long as I can remember. I love writing about how fragile the present is and how so much of it depends on chance events that took place years ago. My favourite things in life are my family, my friends, books, baking on a Saturday afternoon, going out for champagne and dinner and having cosy weekends away. I live in Blackpool with my husband and our little girl. Find out more at hannahcemery.wordpress.com and follow me on Twitter @hannahcemery.

For my family: past, present and future

Grace, 2008

Grace should be with Eliot.

Grace should be the one to take a bite of Eliot’s toast in the morning, to text him and see what he fancies for dinner, to carry around a solid weight of certainty that he is hers and she is his.

But Grace isn’t the one with Eliot, and doesn’t know how to be.

She sighs shakily and glances up as she walks along the promenade to Ash Books. She can barely see Blackpool Tower for the autumn mist. It’s a blue, cool morning and her icy breath streams behind her as she clatters down the glittering concrete. The tide is in, and to her left is the wide expanse of grey sea that she knows so well. Salty spray spits at her and she wipes it quickly from her face, disturbed by what the sea contains. By the time Grace reaches the shop an hour later, her face is stinging with the bite of cold air.

Even today hasn’t taken her mind off Eliot. She is tired of thinking about him, but her thoughts are pulled to the image of him like pins to a magnet. When Grace sleeps, which isn’t often, Eliot’s face floats through her dreams and his voice weaves around the jumbled stories of her subconscious. When she wakes, she can think of nothing but her connection to him.

Grace’s mother called it a gift.

There is only one person who has the power to make Grace think of something else. He is the only person who can make her feel as though the future might be different somehow. But he is not here.

After a slight pause, Grace tugs off one of her blue woollen mittens with her teeth so that she can find her keys in her bag, unlocks the heavy green door and shudders as she enters the bookshop.

As Grace enters Ash Books, she looks around and takes in her new business venture. Opening a secondhand bookshop with her twin sister Elsie seemed straightforward at first. Grace loves books, and Elsie loves books. The business loan application went through easily. It all seemed too simple to be the wrong thing to do.

There are new pine shelves lining each of the ivory walls, mostly filled with second-hand novels. Grace thought that they should sell only children’s books and Elsie argued that they shouldn’t narrow their target customer. The rainbow of creased spines is the result of their spat: a mixture of men’s black crime, women’s powder-blue romance and a colourful burst of children’s books piled up at the back of the shop. Grace runs a finger along the spines of the books on the shelf to her left, careful not to move them from their perfectly lined up positions. Her eyes wander to the stray leaflet on the counter.

ASH BOOKS OPENING DAY

COME AND SEE OUR NEW SHOP! DON’T LEAVE IT TOO LATE!

As she stares at the exclamations that scream out at her in acid yellow and thinks about the day ahead, a surge of panic fizzes through Grace’s blood and into her stomach, where it sits like a dissolving tablet. Hopefully Elsie will be here soon.

The scent of yellowed paper that has been thumbed through a hundred times hangs in the air like nicotine. The counter is to the left, cluttered with boxes of pens and lists of things to do before the grand opening. Grace moves over to a pile of stock behind the counter and picks up a stuffed owl that Elsie bought them as a good luck gift. Elsie has a thing for owls. She places him on top of the counter, then stands back to take in the view.

‘Perhaps you could be our lucky charm?’ Grace asks the owl, who glares at her with his frozen black eyes in response.

No, he doesn’t look right at all. And he might scare small children. Grace glances at the door uneasily, her nerves easing a little when she sees her sister appear behind it. Elsie is laden with tote bags and wearing a royal blue beret that Grace immediately recognises as her own.

‘You’re here already!’ Elsie says to Grace as she unwraps her gigantic yellow scarf from around her neck. She tosses the scarf on the floor next to where she dumps her bags. ‘Shall we make a coffee and then straighten up? We’ve got an hour until we officially open.’

Grace holds the owl up. ‘I’m worried he’ll scare the children,’ she says.

‘He won’t. He’s cute.’ Elsie snatches the owl from Grace and plonks him back in his rightful position next to the till.

The twins are quiet as they unpack the final boxes of books and gifts that they ordered last minute to try and fill up their shelves. As the boxes dwindle, the shelves begin to look a little more cluttered with choice and the counter and surrounding floor become tidy.

‘It’s finally starting to come together,’ Grace says, pushing a strand of black hair from her face. ‘It looks better than I thought it would when I first arrived.’

‘And still fifteen minutes to spare,’ Elsie says as she folds down the last empty box.

‘Yes,’ Grace frowns, ‘so why is somebody already at the door?’ As the tall figure behind the glass motions to be let in, Grace walks over to the front of the shop.

‘Oh, Mags! It’s you!’ Grace unlocks the door and ushers Mags in. ‘I’m so glad you made it. You’re our first customer! Come and have a look around.’

Elsie makes some more coffee in their little staff room at the back of the shop and Grace walks Mags around, pointing out the novels that she has given them to sell. Mags smiles at Grace and squeezes her arm as they return to the counter.