Flanagan pictured the last time she’d seen McKay, watching her drive away from the church, the look of a lost and desperate man. A man who would still be alive if she’d only gone to him when he asked.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Purdy said. ‘Stop it. You’d no way of knowing what was going to happen. Roberta Gar—sorry, Hannah Mackenzie killed that man. It was nobody’s fault but hers. If you keep thinking different, you’ll tear yourself to pieces.’
Flanagan shook her head. ‘I know, but I—’
‘Stop it,’ Purdy said. ‘That’s an order.’
She allowed him a hint of a smile. ‘I thought you weren’t my boss any more.’
‘I came out of retirement, there, just for a minute.’
The room began to fill, and Purdy’s attention turned to the other guests. Alistair wrapped his fingers around Flanagan’s. With his free hand, he adjusted her hair, hid the cluster of stitches and the coin-sized shaved patch. She kissed him for the kindness of the gesture.
Food came and went, beer and wine, stories told and retold.
Amid the chatter, Flanagan put her arm around her husband, brought her lips to his ear and said, ‘We’re going to be all right, aren’t we?’
Alistair kissed her neck, sending sparks down her spine. His breath warm on her ear as he said, ‘Yes, we are.’
Acknowledgements
I am indebted to all who have helped me get this story out of my head and onto the page:
My agents Nat Sobel and Judith Weber who help me navigate these often-turbulent waters, and all at Sobel Weber Associates. And also Caspian Dennis, who listens to me moan more than anyone should have to, and all at Abner Stein.
My editors Geoff Mulligan, Alison Hennessey and Juliet Grames, who help turn my sow’s ears into something resembling silk purses. And all at Vintage Books and Soho Press, especially Bronwen Hruska and Paul Oliver.
A special thank you to Canon John McKegney. This novel began life as a short story written for radio, and John’s kind words about that piece helped encourage me to expand it into a book. Later on, John kindly provided me with tremendous insights into the workings of a church and the life of a clergyman. Any inaccuracies in the depiction are entirely mine.
I am deeply grateful to my local libraries for providing a quiet haven in which to write, and to all the bookstores who continue to fight the good fight. And to my friends in all corners of the crime fiction community.
Thanks to my friends and wider family for the constant support; it’s always appreciated.
Finally, and most of all, I owe this book and my remaining sanity to my family: Issy and Ezra, and especially Jo, who has given me so much time and space and support, even when I least deserved it, and also proved an invaluable sounding board.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Epub ISBN: 9781473524460
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Copyright © Stuart Neville 2016
Stuart Neville has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
First published by Harvill Secker in 2016
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
So Say the Fallen (Dci Serena Flanagan 2) Page 27
