tion id="u1f995c68-1c63-5148-b286-9025eb5e9e04">
First published in Great Britain in 2017
by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited
The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN
Text copyright © 2017 by Rachel McIntyre
The moral rights of the author have been asserted
First e-book edition 2017
ISBN 978 1 4052 7368 8
Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1644 4
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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For Tim
CONTENTS
4 LIV
5 HETTY
6 HETTY
7 HETTY
8 HETTY
9 JEZ
10 JEZ
11 DUFF
12 DUFF
13 LIV
14 LIV
15 LIV
16 EVANGELINA
17 LIV
18 CASSANDRA
1 July, 10 a.m.
When Olivia Dawson-Hill opened the front door she had no idea what she was letting herself in for.
‘I’m Cass,’ the woman on the step said. She held out a business card between elegantly manicured fingers. ‘And you must be Liv.’
Liv took the card. Read it. Frowned.
Cassandra Verity
Assistant Director
Pretty Vacant Productions
‘But I spoke to Tony last night. He said we were all fixed for this afternoon.’
‘There’s been a change of plan. He’s going to call you later.’
The woman smiled.
Liv assessed the visitor with an expert eye: flawless skin, discreet make-up, glossy deep brown hair. White linen dress, understated but expensive. High-end high street? Leather sandals, definitely designer, and by them a large black and silver case.
The woman pulled her handbag higher on her shoulder and Liv’s mouth, poised to utter, What change of plan? dropped open at the sight of the distinctive gold P dangling from the strap.
‘Oh. My. God. Is that a genuine Pandora?’ she said in hushed tones, reaching out a tentative hand. ‘I mean, I’ve been on the waiting list since it opened, but even so, they said at least Christmas. How did you . . .?’
‘Beautiful, isn’t it? I guess you could say I’ve got friends in high places.’ The woman held the soft tan leather up as though it were some holy artefact. ‘Now is it OK if I bring this inside?’
‘This’ was the large black case. Plastered in wasp-striped stickers that read Fragile Audio-visual Equipment. A dizzying flare of excitement shot through Liv.
This was it!
Right now, waiting inside that black vinyl box was The Future.
Tucking the business card in the pocket of her jumpsuit, Liv paused, holding it there for one . . . two . . . in an attempt to disguise the sudden trembling in her fingers.
Deep breath.
Smile.
‘Of course. Come in.’
Cass stepped forward, bringing with her a drift of some ultra-subtle fragrance Liv recognised. Like wild herbs and sea air and sunshine mixed up together. So familiar. What was it called?
But the answer dangled stubbornly out of reach, vanishing entirely as Liv caught sight of Jez’s precision parked BMW, and behind it . . .
Bloody Jez! He knew not to leave the gates open. She tutted, flipping the security panel open to key in the code. The gate mechanism groaned; two Rottweilers hurtled across the walled courtyard, clattering their long chains over the cobbles.
Beyond
