A. Bird - The Classroom - A gripping and terrifying thriller which asks who you can trust in 2018

A.L. BIRDlives in London, where she divides her time between writing, working as a lawyer, and running around after her young family. She loves writing dark, twisty thrillers. Bestselling The Good Mother was her first major psychological thriller for HQ Digital, and Don’t Say a Word was her chilling standalone next book. She has an MA in Creative Writing from Birkbeck, University of London, and is also an alumna of the Faber Academy ‘Writing a Novel’ course. Amy is a member of the Crime Writers’ Association. For updates on her writing follow her on Twitter, @ALBirdWriter.

‘A fast-paced, gripping thriller.’ – B A Paris, bestselling author of Behind Closed Doors

‘Intense and brilliantly uncomfortable reading.’ – Lisa Hall, bestselling author of Between You and Me

‘A pacy, action-packed, brilliantly plotted psychological thriller with one hell of a showdown. I absolutely loved it!’ – Diane Jeffrey, author of Those Who Lie

‘An absolutely jaw dropper and a must read for all.’ – Karen Whittard, NetGalley reviewer

‘Readers hear claim that, “This book will leaving you guessing until the end”. I am glad to say that, for once, the claim is true.’ – M Scott, NetGalley reviewer

‘Kept me up all night.’ – Kathleen Johnson, NetGalley reviewer

‘The psychological tension ramps up to a plot twist that took me completely by surprise.’ – Avonna Kershey, NetGalley reviewer

‘Wow! A well deserved 5 stars, one of the best pyschological fiction books of this year so far!’ – Julia Beales, NetGalley reviewer

‘Once you get towards the end you better hope you’re not needed for anything because you will find yourself glued until the last word.’ – Tara Sheehan, NetGalley reviewer

‘Impossible to put down.’ – Linda Strong, NetGalley reviewer

The Good Mother

Don’t Say a Word

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

Copyright © Amy Bird 2018

Amy Bird 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.

E-book Edition © September 2018 ISBN: 9781474086127

Version: 2018-09-11

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Praise for A.L. Bird

Also by A.L. Bird

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Part One

Prologue

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

Part Two

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Acknowledgements

Reading Group Questions

Extract

Dear Reader …

Keep Reading …

About the Publisher

To my parents, in recognition

To my two little miracles, in joy

She puts the letter to one side. Today isn’t about that. Not in this moment. Today is about Harriet. Her, and Harriet, making a fresh start, together. Away from all this nonsense. If the letter shows anything, it’s that they need to make that fresh start even further away. There’ll be people looking for them. And Harriet is so pretty – people will notice them. England is too small. She needs to go abroad. They need to get tickets to France or, ideally, somewhere outside Europe that doesn’t need a visa. Somewhere not hugely swamped with international newspapers. She gets out her phone, begins Googling destinations. That’s stupid, though. She should just take Harriet to the airport, see what flights they can get. And go.

Resolved, she gets to her feet. Thank God for Harriet being well looked after this morning, while the fresh crisis was breaking. She can imagine her now, playing happily on the grass. Soon, Harriet will be playing happily in another country, doting eyes on her. They’ll be happy together. Of course they will.

At first glance, she doesn’t notice, when she gets outside.

The absence.

She looks around another time.

It’s then she realises: Harriet isn’t there.

Just the woman who was supposed to be looking after her, sitting all alone.

KIRSTEN, 4 SEPTEMBER 2018

‘I just wasn’t sure about the headteacher, at the new joiners evening, you know?’ Kirsten says to her husband, as she gazes at little Harriet. She bites her lip, as she resists the urge to hug her daughter another time before getting her into the car. Harriet looks so smart and grown-up in her new uniform, but Kirsten doesn’t want to deliver her to the destination: first day of reception.

Ian lays a hand on Kirsten’s shoulder.

‘The headteacher was just fine, darling. You know that. You got on like a house on fire.’ There’s a wryness to his delivery, probably born of being a headmaster himself. He knows the conversations that go on.

‘And what about the other kids? They say that the most important thing is the cohort your child’s in. What if they’re mean?’

Ian shrugs. ‘There’s bound to be one mean kid there. Maybe it will be Harriet.’

Kirsten shoots him a poison dart with her eyes.

‘Joking,’ he tells her. ‘Harriet’s no bully. But they’re five, Kirsten. No one’s going to be selling drugs, or making them down alcohol.’

Kirsten looks at him more carefully this time. It’s an oddly chosen example, considering.

She sees Ian notice her look. ‘Whatever,’ he says. ‘What I mean is, she’ll be fine, you need to get her in the car, or we’ll both be late, OK? You’ve been taking her to nursery for three years. School’s no different, really. She should be so lucky, going somewhere like that. We can catch up this evening.’