by Lucy Dawson
‘You’re probably wondering how I know where you live – and this is a bit awkward,’ I keep watching Florence, ‘but my sister told me. True story.’ I watch her face redden and I can’t deny a part of me feels satisfied. ‘We probably don’t need to go into that right now though. Maybe it’s one of those “least said, soonest mended” things. There was just something I wanted to say quickly, though, if that’s OK? I’m not going to make a habit of stopping in.’
‘I’m glad you’ve come, actually.’ Charlotte looks at the flowers she’s now holding and her voice sounds very odd – breathy. ‘I need to talk to you too.’
Florence lifts her head and shoots a look at Charlotte, her eyes wide. I don’t miss it.
‘That sounds serious. Should I be worried?’
She swallows. ‘Mia, I—’
‘Mummy, I’m hungry.’ A small boy suddenly appears in the doorway to my immediate left, arms hanging heavy and his face mock weary. He looks up in surprise to see a stranger, and I catch my breath. Seth’s eyes. They are peas in a pod.
He moves instinctively towards Charlotte and regards me warily. Charlotte registers the reason for my shock immediately, passes the flowers to Florence and picks Teddy up, just about managing to balance him on her tiny hip.
‘I’ll start tea soon, darling.’ She nuzzles his cheek and he leans into her. ‘Just give me a minute to finish talking to my friend, and then I’ll find you something to keep you going. In fact, maybe Aunty Flo can take you in the kitchen and find you a snack?’ She places him down again as a little girl appears in the doorway too. ‘Can I have one, Mummy?’
Charlotte smiles tiredly. ‘Yes, flappy ears, you can.’
The girl looks pleased and glances at me shyly, it’s like being spotted by a fawn – all luminous eyes and long legs – before she escapes off to the kitchen in pursuit of Teddy. As they run away from me it’s ridiculous – weird even – but the sudden realisation that I will now never play the role in these children’s lives I was on course for, hits me so hard I waver on the spot. I watch them over Charlotte’s shoulder moving around a light, bright, cluttered kitchen, bifolds revealing a nice garden beyond. Florence follows them into the kitchen, shutting the door quietly behind them. I can see their shadows moving on the other side of the obscured panes of glass in the stripped pine door.
‘Mia, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s about the book.’
‘No!’ I say quickly, surprising both her and me. ‘Don’t.’ I correct myself. ‘I mean, let’s not talk about the book – not today.’ I turn quickly and hurry to the front door, fumbling with the door-catch. ‘I should go. I left my sister in the car; we need to get back for her kids. Teatime everywhere, right?’ I laugh desperately.
‘Mia, please,’ she steps forward and puts a hand on my arm, ‘I really need to—’
‘No, you don’t!’ I shake myself free. ‘Please, Charlotte, don’t say whatever you think you need to, because you don’t.’
Her eyes are wide and frightened. ‘What do you?…’
‘It won’t be long until we get the first payment now,’ I continue. ‘I’ll be in touch so you can tell me which account you want your fifty per cent paid into. Do you need to invoice me? You probably do. Anyway, let me know. I go to LA to start a big acting gig next week, but I’ll shout when I’m back. We should talk about the second book soon, I expect? How good is that though, hey? It’s been everything you promised me it would be, but it’s also really important to me that you, Clara and Teddy are benefitting from all of this, too, given everything that’s happened.’ I can’t ram it home anymore than this. Please don’t tell me…
She hesitates. ‘Didn’t you want to say something?’
I shake my head. ‘No. Forget it. I’ve really got to go – sorry.’
‘Good luck then,’ she says quietly, and I feel sick with relief.
‘Thank you, Charlotte.’ I almost reach out and hug her, only managing not to right at the last moment. That would be too much.
As I clatter down the steps poor Kirsty is pacing up and down outside her car, clutching her phone and looking demented.
‘What the hell?’ she demands furiously, once we’re safely roaring off up the road. ‘You were meant to put the flowers on the step and just go. I almost phoned the police! I swear to God, you have some sort of chip missing or something. You just walked into her house! What if she’d gone mental and attacked you? You’ve got to stop being so… impulsive and trusting!’
‘I have stopped, I promise.’
‘No, you haven’t! You just—’
‘Kirsty – I didn’t write my book. Charlotte did. We just pretended it was me. Whoa – Careful! You nearly took the wing mirror off that Mini!’ My sister swerves back and glances at me in shock again, before turning to look at the road in front of us.
‘What are you talking about now?’ she shouts. ‘Why would she write your book?’
‘Because she’s a writer? I’m just the face of it. We were doing a deal together. I obviously didn’t know she was married to Seth. I thought she was in the dark about me, too, but now I’m not so sure.’
Kirsty pulls sharply into a space alongside a school, turns the engine off and twists in her seat to face me. ‘What?’
‘I think this has all been about her wanting revenge. It dawned on me the other night. I’ve always been able to hear his voice in the book. I thought it was because they were around each other so much, but it suddenly just clicked. He wrote it, not her. That’s why he was so angry with me that night: he thought I’d stolen his book from him and sold it for a fortune. She’s been passing off his book as her own.’
Kirsty breathes in sharply. ‘To hurt him, or you?’
I shrug. ‘Maybe both of us? Perhaps it was just about getting the money. I don’t know. I guess it’s about the cash now. I’ve been feeling devastated since it dawned on me. I know how ironic this sounds, but I felt betrayed. I thought I’d have it out with her… but you know I think she wanted to tell me the truth herself, just then?’ I rest my head back, exhausted. ‘She feels really bad about it, I can tell.’
Kirsty stares at me, her mouth open.
‘And as soon as I realised that, I suddenly didn’t want her to say anything!’ I laugh. ‘You don’t need to tell me how messed up that sounds.’ I look back at Kirsty with tears in my eyes. ‘I didn’t want to hear her say that she’d only done this to hurt Seth. I need to feel we’ve at least achieved something positive… I just saw his kids and they’re beautiful. Similar ages to the boys. Can you imagine them suddenly being without you, or Bill?’
‘Don’t,’ says Kirsty. ‘It’s every parent’s worst nightmare.’
‘Well, not every parent, but the good ones… Children don’t ask to be born, do they?’ I look out of the window. ‘They’re completely innocent in all of this.’ I fall silent for a minute. ‘I wanted to help Teddy and Clara. I still want to help them. My agreement with Charlotte was to split the money 50/50 but I’m going to give it all to her for the children. I don’t want his money. That way it can almost be like they never met me at all.’ I blink away the tears.
‘But none of this was your fault, Mia.’ Kirsty takes my hand. ‘You didn’t know he was married! You trusted him, that was your only mistake.’ She sighs. ‘You just can’t take people at face value.’
I laugh, and she frowns in concern. ‘What? What’s funny?’
‘That’s the whole reason this happened, because that’s exactly what I did.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Remember last year, when I was starting to struggle a bit when Hugo and I got engaged and I was thinking I might want to contact my birth parents after all?’
Kirsty nods, still stroking my hand.
‘We were in Edinburgh. Hugo had gone to this stupid talk of Ava’s and I didn’t want to. I went off on my own instead and I saw this woman through the crowd. She was hurrying and I know how this is going to sound, but she looked like me.’ I wipe my eyes. ‘I mean, really looked like me. She
was about forty, right sort of age. I was stunned and I just found myself following her. She was doing an author masterclass, I snuck in and listened to her, she was amazing. I honestly thought I’d found my biological mother, just like that. Fate.’ I laugh.
‘Oh sweetheart!’ Kirsty clutches my hand furiously. ‘And she was…’
‘Charlotte.’ I nod. ‘But then afterwards when I went and spoke to her, I asked her if she wrote under a pen name and she said she didn’t, so that didn’t fit. I knew my birth mother wasn’t called Charlotte Graves. I asked her to sign a book for you and her signature didn’t look anything like the one I’d seen on the documents Mum showed me either. It wasn’t her – obviously. I was heartbroken but I forced myself to smile politely and chat about nothing.’ I sigh at the memory. ‘I should never have followed her. That way Seth wouldn’t have seen me either… because we spoke, apparently. None of this would have happened – the only genuine coincidence was me winding up on her sister’s counselling couch. That’s how Charlotte found out I was sleeping with her husband.’
‘Her sister was your counsellor?’ Kirsty is horrified. ‘She broke your confidentiality?’
‘Yeah, she was at the house just now, actually, which was nice. I saw her collect Charlotte at the hospital the day Seth died.’
Kirsty shakes her head. ‘I don’t know what to say. I honestly don’t know what to say to you.’
I shrug. ‘I went looking for a mother, and I ended up taking a father.’
‘Oh sweetheart, you didn’t take anything! You just wanted to be loved! Isn’t that what all of us want?’
I start to cry properly.
‘Come on, let’s go home.’ She starts the car again. ‘Mum will be getting worried.’
‘Please don’t tell her and Dad about the book not really being mine?’ I beg. ‘Partly because I really do want to help Charlotte and because I don’t want them to be disappointed in me. Dad was so proud when I told him. Please, Kirst?’
‘I won’t say a thing, but they are proud of you, we all are. Book or no book.’
I look out of the window, thinking about Charlotte.
‘I’m sorry she wasn’t your biological mother,’ Kirsty says. ‘Especially given the actual one was such a disappointment. She didn’t deserve a daughter like you, that’s for sure. But we know how lucky we are.’
‘I love you too,’ I say quickly, and I do – so much. My family are everything to me.
But imagine if it really had been Charlotte. Millions of people living in the country and we’re reunited at a festival in Scotland, of all places… more than an extraordinary coincidence: a second chance.
I wish that had been the story.
If you were absolutely gripped by Don't Ever Tell, you will love Lucy's bestselling novel The Daughter. You lost your daughter. You will never forgive yourself. Now someone's determined to make you pay…
* * *
Get it here now!
THE DAUGHTER
Get it here!
* * *
‘Gripped me and didn’t let go until the wickedly twisted ending.’ Jenny Blackhurst, author of How I Lost You.
* * *
You lost your daughter. You will never forgive yourself. Now someone's determined to make you pay…
* * *
Seventeen years ago, something happened to Jess’s daughter Beth. The memory of it still makes her blood run cold. Jess has tried everything to make peace with that day, and the part she played in what happened. It was only a brief moment of desire… but she’ll pay for it with a lifetime of guilt.
* * *
To distance herself from the mistakes of the past, Jess has moved away and started over with her family. But when terrifying things begin happening in her new home, Jess knows that her past has finally caught up with her. Somebody feels Jess hasn’t paid enough, and is determined to make her suffer for the secrets she’s kept all these years.
* * *
A heartbreaking and unputdownable psychological thriller perfect for fans of Linda Green, K.L. Slater and Teresa Driscoll.
HEAR MORE FROM LUCY
If you’d like to keep up to date with my latest releases, just sign up at the link below. We’ll never share your email address and you can unsubscribe at any time.
* * *
Sign up here!
BOOKS BY LUCY DAWSON
Don’t Ever Tell
The Memory
White Lies
The Daughter
Everything You Told Me
His Other Lover
You Sent Me A Letter
What My Best Friend Did
Little Sister
The One That Got Away
A LETTER FROM LUCY
I can’t lie, I don’t always feel in the right mood to sit down and write fiction that looks at the darker side of life. When I have to engineer it, I listen to a couple of music tracks that remind me of the voices I’m imagining. I pick different ones at the start of every book – a character soundtrack of sorts. I’m never going to be able to hear Mark Ronson (feat Miley Cyrus) Nothing Breaks Like a Heart or Sam Smith & Normani Dancing with a Stranger ever again without thinking of Charlotte and Mia. Have a listen if you fancy hearing some of the songs I wore out while writing this. I still think they’re amazing tracks.
In fact, I had a blast writing this book and I’d love to hear what you think about it. Come and find me on Instagram, Facebook or Twitter, or if you have the time I’d be very grateful for any reviews you’d like to leave.
You can also keep up-to-date with all of my latest releases, by signing up at the following link. Your email address will never be shared, and you can unsubscribe at any time.
Sign up to Lucy’s mailing list here!
I have a reader’s club you can join too. There’s a free short story to download when you sign up via the following link:
Sign up to Lucy’s reader’s club here.
Until the next book though, thanks again for reading Don’t Ever Tell. I’m very grateful for your time.
With all best wishes,
Lucy x
www.lucydawsonbooks.com
WHITE LIES
Get it here!
* * *
When you have everything, you have everything to lose…
* * *
Alexandra Inglis is a respected family doctor, trusted by her patients to keep their most intimate secrets. And if sometimes the boundaries between duty and desire blur… well, she's only human.
* * *
But when Alex oversteps a line with Jonathan, one of her patients, she knows she's gone too far. Jonathan is obsessive, and to get what he wants he will tear Alex's world apart – threatening not only her career but her marriage and family too.
* * *
Soon Alex finds she's capable of doing almost anything to keep hold of her perfect life, as it begins to spin dangerously out of her control…
* * *
A darkly gripping domestic drama about secrets and lies, perfect for fans of Apple Tree Yard, Louise Jensen and The Couple Next Door.
THE MEMORY
Get it here!
* * *
She’ll never forget… I’ll never forgive.
* * *
People always notice my daughter, Isobel. How could they not? Extraordinarily beautiful… until she speaks.
* * *
An unsettling, little-girl voice, exactly like a child’s, but from the mouth of a full-grown woman.
* * *
Izzie might look grown-up, but inside she’s trapped. Caught in the day it happened… the day that broke her from within. Our family fell apart that day, and we never could pick up the pieces…
* * *
A haunting domestic drama about families and secrets, perfect for fans of Gillian Flynn, Shalini Boland and Lisa Jewell.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My grateful thanks to Laura Bethune, Nathan Johnson, Vanessa Jones, Carla Flexman, Neil White, Steve Cavanagh and Anna Mazo
lla. All errors are mine and not theirs.
Wanda Whiteley, thank you so much. As ever, you were bang on the money.
Sarah Ballard, Eli Keren and everyone at UA who continue to work so hard on my behalf – thank you.
Kathryn Taussig, Jenny Geras, Kim Nash, Noelle Holten and everyone at Bookouture – I am so grateful for the support you have given me. You’ve made publishing four books in eighteen months not only do-able but enjoyable. Thank you.
Thank you to the bloggers and authors who give generously of their time in spreading the word. The crime writing community is genuinely fabulous and being part of it is one of the biggest perks of the job.
Finally, thank you to my family and friends for still being there when I eventually put the laptop down and to you, for reading the end result.
Published by Bookouture in 2019
* * *
An imprint of StoryFire Ltd.
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
* * *
www.bookouture.com
* * *
Copyright © Lucy Dawson, 2019
* * *
