The Girl Next Door: a gripping and twisty psychological thriller you don’t want to miss!
‘Skilfully plotted and with a twist I never saw coming…a terrific read!’Cass Green, bestselling author of In a Cottage in a WoodOne little lie just became deadly…Perfect mother. Perfect wife. Jane Goodwin has spent years building her picture-perfect life in the quiet town of Ashdon.So when the girl next door, sixteen-year-old Clare Edwards, is found murdered, Jane knows she must first protect her family.Every marriage has a few white lies and hers is no exception. Jane’s worked hard to cover up her dark secret from all those years ago – and she’ll do anything to keep it hidden…The gripping new psychological thriller from the author of The Doll House, the number one digital bestseller.
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PHOEBE MORGAN is an author and editor. She studied English at Leeds University after growing up in the Suffolk countryside. She has previously worked as a journalist and now edits crime and women’s fiction for a publishing house during the day, and writes her own books in the evenings. She lives in London and you can follow her on Twitter @Phoebe_A_Morgan, or visit her website at www.phoebemorganauthor.com for tips on writing and publishing. Her debut novel, The Doll House, was a #1 ebook bestseller. The Girl Next Door is her second psychological thriller.
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First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019
Copyright © Phoebe Morgan 2019
Phoebe Morgan 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.
Ebook Edition © February 2019 ISBN: 9780008314859
Version: 2019-02-22
‘A real page-turner, I loved this story.’
B A Paris, bestselling author of Behind Closed Doors
‘Tense, suspenseful and unsettling!’
Lisa Hall, bestselling author of Between You and Me
‘Unsettling, insightful, evocative and poignant, Morgan’s writing is both delicate and devastating.’
Helen Fields, author of Perfect Remains
‘A brilliantly creepy and insightfully written debut. I tore through it.’
Gillian McAllister, Sunday Times bestselling author of Everything But the Truth
‘Totally engrossing from start to finish. A clever, clever book.’
Amanda Robson, author of Obsession
‘Morgan’s intense prose grips and thrills from the first page… a terrific debut.’
S. R. Masters, author of The Killer You Know
‘Atmospheric, dark and haunting, I could not put this book down.’
Caroline Mitchell, USA Today bestselling author
‘Deliciously creepy, genuinely unnerving and incredibly confident, The Doll House is the stellar first outing of a major new voice.’
Catherine Ryan Howard, author of Distress Signals
‘Unnerving and spine-chilling.’
Mel Sherratt, million-copy bestselling author
For my family, and for Alex.
Contents
Clare
Monday 4th February, 7.00 a.m.
I’m not coming home tonight. The thought hits me as soon as I wake up, fizzing excitedly inside my brain, like one of those sherbets Mum used to buy me from miserable Ruby’s corner shop. I won’t be sleeping in this bed, I won’t be wearing these red and white pyjamas, I won’t be by myself.
It’s so cold outside; I can see misted condensation on the windows of our house and the room has a filmy, damp feel because Ian’s so bloody tight about the heating. Under the duvet, I wiggle my toes to warm up and reach an arm out for my iPhone, on charge by the side of the bed like it always is. Three new messages – two from Lauren, and one from him. The smile cracks open my face as I read it, and I feel a little shiver of anticipation run through me. Today’s the day. I have been keeping my secret to myself all weekend, but tonight, I’m going to tell him. He’s waited long enough.
‘Clare? Are you out of bed yet?’
Mum’s calling me from downstairs, I can hear Ian thudding around, making too much noise as he always does. Their bedroom is down the corridor from mine, but I never go in there. I hear the shower spray on, the sound of water hitting tiles, then his whistling begins – out of tune, like always. It’ll be like this until the front door slams and he goes to work; until then, the house is full of his loud voice and Mum’s anxious fussing. I’ve got an alarm, of course, but she insists on shouting for me every morning as though I’m six, not sixteen. Reluctantly, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as the freezing floorboards touch my feet. My phone, still in my hand, vibrates again and I feel another bubble of excitement, deep in my stomach. Just the day to get through and then it’ll be time. I can’t wait to see his face.
