Missing in the Dying Light

Prologue

‘Wow!’ Lottie was impressed and it was hard to impress Lottie, super-cool, with her place at St Hilda’s, Oxford, and her model good looks. Her string of super-cool boyfriends. Her sporting prowess. ‘We could be in the Mediterranean.’

Soon, Hannah thought, they’d separate, head off to different universities, different lives. The thought gave her an unexpected and overwhelming sense of relief.

She was dizzy and light-headed after the drive, grateful to have arrived safely.

She’d had to persuade her mother that of course she’d be fine coming down early with Lottie.

She’d passed her driving test first time, and though the car her parents had given her wasn’t new, it was perfectly reliable.

Her father had winked and reminded her mum of their reckless youth, the miles they’d travelled in their crappy minivan. The festivals and the squats.

‘I think we can trust this lovely lass to make it from London to North Devon in one piece. She’s far too sensible already,’ he had said.

So here she was, the stress of A levels over, with her bestie, her saviour, in her parents’ holiday home in North Devon. Three days of freedom, of sunshine, of independence, before the olds turned up with her younger brothers.

Hannah opened the boot and began to pull out the bags. There was a splash, and she turned to see that Lottie had already stripped off and was in the pool, her blonde hair dripping, her face just above the water, grinning.