“There have been two moments in my life when everything changed. Moments when things could have gone either way. Moments when I had to make a choice.”
“Noon. London. My flat. Ugh. The Last thing on earth I feel physically, emotionally or mentally equipped to do is drive to Una and Geoffrey Alconbury’s New Year’s Day Turkey Curry Buffet in Grafton Underwood.”
“Brynn had both hands clamped like a vise around the wheel. Her knuckles were white. Beads of sweat formed like raindrops on her forehead, below the silk of her blond hair. Her mouth hung slack and open. Her blue eyes were huge. Something was wrong.”
You are food.
I unfold the piece of paper in my hands and read it again. There’s a single sentence, written in the centre of the page in blue biro:
I know your name’s not really Jane Hughes.