Mindsight
‘Truly gripping’ SUNDAY EXPRESSA dark, twisty, and gripping psychological thriller that will suit fans of SISTER SISTER, by Sue Fortin, and BEHIND HER EYES by Sarah Pinborough.Five years ago, Clare killed her family – her husband, her father, and one of her twin sons. She has no memory of the car accident, but there is no refuting the evidence of drugs in her system. She has accepted her guilt, and served her time.Now, released from prison, all she wants is to be reconciled with her remaining son, 13-year-old Tommy. To help him come to terms with her crime, and his own survivor guilt, Clare tries to find out the full truth of what happened on that fateful night.Probing into the past, however, turns out to be dangerous exercise, threatening not only Clare’s sanity, but ultimately her life…
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Killer Reads
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First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2015
Copyright © Chris Curran 2015
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
Cover illustration © Jem Butcher
Cover images © ShutterStock
Chris Curran 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.
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Ebook Edition © January 2015 ISBN: 9780008132729
Version 2016-03-23
For Paul, with much love
The road twisted ahead, a blur of heat shimmering above it. I looked away, my eyes dazzled by the fields flashing past: bright green, pale green, dark green, brown, brown, acid yellow, and green again.
Alice changed gear into what must have been fifth, and I gripped the edge of my seat. ‘OK, Clare? Won’t be long now.’ She reached across to flip open the glove compartment. ‘There’s some water in there.’
It was fizzy and tasted harsh, drying my mouth even more. I closed my eyes. And here it was again: that other road. A dark road, flickering with shadows of trees and cloud. Then the stab of light and the chaos of jolting, screeching, and skidding. Oh, God.
I jerked upright and saw we were approaching the turn off for Wadhurst. Something pulled hard on my insides and my foot pressed an imaginary brake. ‘Alice, do you think …’ My voice cracked.
She looked over at me and slowed the car, then pulled into a lay-by. Her blue eyes were clouded. ‘We can’t, Clare. I haven’t told him it’s today. And you said yourself it was better to wait. Get settled first.’
I nodded: she was right. She squeezed my hand, giving me a wobbly smile. ‘OK?’ I managed another nod, and Alice drove on, as I looked back down the road and that tug came again, so strong this time it felt like pain.
Another swig from the bottle; the gassy stuff stinging my throat. Alice twisted a dial and a draught of cold air blew into my face and around my ankles. ‘Any better?’ she asked.
‘I’m sorry, can we stop again?’
She pulled into a pub car park and I got out, tugging at the jeans and shirt that clung too tight. Alice walked round to open the boot.
‘Look, why don’t you put on something cooler?’
All I wanted now was to get back to the safety of the car, away from the wide sky and the fields, but I pulled out the holdall and followed her. The toilets were just inside the main door, and Alice led me into the Ladies, leaning on a sink and talking to my reflection, her own distorted by the mirror.
‘I’ll leave you to it then.’ She rubbed my back. ‘I’ll get us some lunch. You should eat something.’
The place was cool and clean, a bowl of potpourri between the two sinks, but as I rifled through my clothes I could smell the stench of prison on them: strong enough to overwhelm the faint scent of lavender. My face in the mirror was bleached stone beneath the dark curls, and the fluorescent light revealed lines around my eyes that I’d never noticed before. Thirty-three wasn’t that old, was it? I pinched my cheeks, running my fingers through my hair.
Locked in a cubicle, I stripped off. The floor was cool under my bare feet, and I rested my head on the metal door. Then put on a thin blouse and cotton trousers.
I felt better for the change, but as I stood in front of the sinks again, staring at my white face, I couldn’t imagine how I would get through the door. Come on; come on, just do it. A woman and child burst in, the little girl holding the door for me, and I found myself in the bar.
