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Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2019
Copyright © Lindsey Kelk 2019
Cover design by Ellie Game © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Cover illustrations © Lucy Truman
Lindsey Kelk asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of 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, down-loaded, 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.
Source ISBN: 9780008236854
Ebook Edition © May 2019 ISBN: 9780008236878
Version: 2019-05-02
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Lindsey Kelk
About the Publisher
For Della.
The Jenny to my Angela, Angela to my Jenny.
Without you, there would be no I Heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
‘Angela? Are you up?’
I was not up. I had no interest in being up.
‘Come on. You can’t stay in bed all day.’
Slowly, very, very slowly, I prised open one eye as I tried to work out where I was.
The ceiling was too low, the window was in the wrong place and I couldn’t hear a single car horn honking. Not to mention the fact my bed was altogether too small and too empty.
‘Angela.’
Two taps on the door of my childhood bedroom before it opened, my mum’s face popping inside without waiting for an invitation.
‘Why aren’t you dressed? It’s nearly eight.’
Today was the day.
‘I just woke up,’ I croaked in response, raking a hand through the bird’s nest on top of my head. Everything came rushing back: where I was, why I was here, what had to be done today, and the steady thrum of nerves that had been beating in my chest since I got on the plane found its rhythm once again.
‘Well, I know we had a lazy one yesterday but you can’t lie around in bed all day
