S is for Stranger: the gripping psychological thriller you don’t want to miss!
A gripping debut psychological thriller you don’t want to miss!‘Louise Stone is an exciting new talent to watch. S is for Stranger is full of tension and atmosphere. A hugely compelling read.’ ― Amanda Jennings, author of In Her WakeThere are two sides to every story.But only one is true.Sophie wished she’d paid more attention when her little daughter, Amy, caught sight of a stranger watching them. She only looked away for a second. But now Amy’s gone.No one trusts an alcoholic. Even a sober one. The police are suspicious of Sophie’s tangled story and so is her ex-husband, Paul. Especially when new information emerges that changes everything.But what if Sophie is telling the truth? What if her daughter really is missing? And what if that stranger at the fairground wasn’t really a stranger at all…Perfect for readers looking for their next addictive read after The Girl on the Train and Behind Closed Doors.What readers are saying about S is for Stranger:‘Wow. OMG. Wow. Absolutely fantastic read. Could not put it down!’ – Sue Wallace (NetGalley Reviewer)‘A real nail-biter, trying to figure out who was really telling the truth, who was lying and why was mind-bending.’ – Rosemary Smith (NetGalley Reviewer)‘A thriller that should come with the tagline: ‘Beware, this book will seriously mess with your head!’ – Lorraine Rugman (The Book Review Cafe)‘What a scary, twisty read! I will keep thinking about it for a long time!’ – Elisa Rambacher (NetGalley Reviewer)‘Intriguing, engrossing and disturbing...a gripping psychological thriller that brings every parent’s worst nightmare to life.’ – Zoe Williams (whatsbetterthanbooks.com)‘WARNING: Don't start reading this book unless you have plenty of time as you won't be able to put it down!’ – Denise Sharp (NetGalley Reviewer)‘Whoa! I read this in one sitting. Once you start, you aren’t going to want to put it down.’ – Linda Strong (Strong Book Reviews)‘I may have finished this book but I've definitely not finished thinking about it! You’re going to want to read it in one sitting!’ – Janel Selby (Crime On The Pages)
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LOUISE STONE
worked as a teacher before turning her hand to fiction. She was brought up in Africa and the Middle East and then ‘as an adult’ travelled extensively before moving to London and finally settling in the Cotswolds with her partner, and now baby. When she’s not writing, you will find her scouring interior design magazines and shops, striving toward the distant dream of being a domestic goddess or having a glass of wine with country music turned up loud. As a child, she always had her nose in a book and, in particular, Nancy Drew. S is for Stranger is her first psychological suspense thriller and it was shortlisted for the Harry Bowling Prize. She also writes women’s fiction under the pseudonym Lottie Phillips. Readers can find Louise Stone, otherwise known as Charlotte Phillips, on Twitter @writercharlie or at www.writercharlie.com
To my wonderful parents.
Fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth. As he has injured the other, so he is to be injured.
Leviticus chapter 24: verse 20
TABLE OF CONTENTS
September 2011
I tapped the rim of the table with my right forefinger: one, two, three. Bad things didn’t happen when I counted to three.
‘Don’t you like strawberry?’ I asked, twiddling my straw with my other hand. ‘You can have mine.’ I pushed the chocolate milkshake in her direction and she shook her head. I gave in and took it back. ‘So, how’s school?’
‘OK.’
We had been playing this game for over an hour now: I asked the questions and she offered one-word answers. Licking my lips, I went in for another drag of the sweet, sickly chocolate drink. I turned to look out the window and pulled a face. Milkshakes were not my thing. I had thought it was what all eight-year-old girls liked doing – eating junk food and visiting Claire’s jewellery shop.
‘You don’t like it, do you, Mummy?’ Amy asked me and nodded toward the milkshake.
I smiled – caught out. ‘Not really. What about you?’
Amy revealed the first small smile of the day. ‘No.’ She looked down at her lap. ‘I don’t like milkshakes. Daddy knows I don’t like milkshakes.’
‘I just thought –’
Amy looked up. ‘It’s OK, Mummy. You don’t live with me so only Daddy knows.’
I felt the familiar stab of guilt. ‘Right, yes.’ I picked up the menu. ‘What would you prefer?’ I needed to face it; I was out of touch.
‘I’m not hungry. Daddy made me pancakes for breakfast.’ She slid down further in her seat. ‘When did Daddy say we should go home? To Daddy’s home.’
My face fell. ‘Um, he said four o’clock.’ I looked at my watch, tapped its face three times. I hoped Amy hadn’t noticed. ‘It’s only two-thirty. Do you want to head back?’ I said cheerily; too cheerily. I mean, was the day going so badly that my daughter wanted to return home to her father already?
‘No …’ She fought tears. ‘I wish we were a family again, like my friends at school have.’
‘I know, but you’re no different to anyone else. You know that, right?’
She gave a small nod. ‘I guess. My bestest friend said she wanted her parents to split up.’
‘Really?’ I said, raising my eyebrows.
‘Yeah, because she thinks it’s nice to get two of everything.’ She paused. ‘I told her it’s not nice.’
I frowned and, desperate to keep her happy, I offered, ‘Shall we play I-spy?’
She pulled a face. ‘Mummy, you’re not very good at this game.’
‘Shame.’ I shrugged my shoulders and looked away. ‘Because I’ve already come up with one.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Okkaaay.’
I grinned. ‘I spy something beginning with B.’
Amy looked behind her, swivelling in her seat. ‘Burger?’
I shook my head.
She furrowed her brows. ‘Book?’
I shook my head again.
‘Are you playing it right?’
I nodded.
She scanned the restaurant another time, spotting a young girl playing with a doll. ‘Barbie!’
‘Nope.’
She giggled. ‘Mummy, are you sure you’re playing properly?’
‘Uh-huh.’ I smiled. ‘Shall I tell you?’
‘OK.’
‘Big nose.’
‘Mummy!’ She squealed with laughter. ‘That’s silly.’
‘Oh, really?’ I played innocent. ‘Your turn.’
She giggled. ‘OK.’ Her eyes flicked around the room and she twisted in her seat, looked behind her, and then she said, ‘S.’
‘S?’
‘Yup.’ She nodded happily. ‘Go quicker. It moves.’
‘Uh-oh.’ I looked around the restaurant, my eyes skimming the counter. ‘Sugar?’
‘Sugar!’ She shook her head firmly. ‘No.’
‘Skirt.’
‘It’s not moving!’
‘It does if the person who’s wearing it moves.’
‘No.’
‘Hmm.’ I shrugged. ‘Give in.’
She pointed outside. ‘Stranger. That lady’s been staring at us for ages.’
‘You never told me we could name things outside too!’
Amy dropped her head into her arms on the table, in fits of giggles. ‘My rules.’ She looked up, laughing. ‘The lady’s gone now.’
