Lost Souls by Jenny O'Brien (android e book reader txt) 📕

back into the hall, the post in her hand, the throw trailing in her wake. She was cold down to the bone, but it wasn’t the type of cold that the warmth from wool was going to solve. Her hand stretched towards the phone for a third time, her arm brushing against her breasts, now heavy with milk. She hesitated, her gaze lingering on the mail and the postcard on top. Was she overreacting? Was this the paranoid response of a new mum? Maybe. Possibly. Hopefully.

The card was plain white and, with no name or address scrawled on the front, must have been hand delivered. She flipped it over and all thoughts of a simple explanation died along with any hope in her heart.

I’ve got Alys. Don’t try to find us, Charlie

Chapter 1

Izzy

Monday 23 December, 5.10 p.m. Swansea

It took one look, just one, for Izzy’s world to shatter a second time.

To anyone else it was only a flicker, a face in the crowd but to her it was a face so intrinsically linked to her past that she paused in her fur-lined boots, unable to do more than stare at the woman disappearing across the street. It was all there in the angle of her head, the sway of her hips, the colour of her jet-black hair. It had been five years and yet it still felt just like yesterday.

Grace. Grace Madden.

A wave of ice-cold worked its way across her shoulders and down her spine, pinning her to the spot. She couldn’t move even if her life depended on it. Instead, she watched, transfixed as Grace clambered into a waiting taxi before zooming into the distance. She was too late and yet what could she have done? Shout? Scream? Surely she could have done something instead of just standing there? The tears came in a sudden deluge. Tears for the opportunity she’d just lost.

‘Are you all right, love? All this Christmas cheer getting to you?’ The stranger’s soft Welsh accent was a welcome interruption.

Izzy wiped a hand over her cheeks before scooping up her bags.

‘I’m fine, just a little overcome,’ she said, jolted out of her reverie. She was standing outside Costa, her gaze still lingering on the spot where she’d last seen her. Stepping out of his way with a brief smile, she headed inside to buy a coffee she didn’t want simply because the tremors running up her legs made sitting an urgent necessity.

Costa was busy but she managed to secure a table right at the back and, pushing her coffee to one side, rested her head in her hands.

Was it even Grace? It certainly looked like her with her distinctive black hair sweeping her shoulders in sharp contrast to her pale face and razor cheekbones. But now, as the seconds ticked into minutes, she wasn’t so sure. Bottle black was such a popular look these days and it wasn’t as if she was that unique.

Squashing back tears, she reached for her cup with an unsteady hand and took tentative sips until the cup was drained. But still she sat, clenching it between her hands, trying to drag the strength up from somewhere to think about someone she hadn’t thought of in a very long time. Grace, the woman she’d thought her best friend. A great friend she’d turned out to be, leaving town at a time when she’d needed her the most – the weekend Alys disappeared. She hadn’t even bothered to get in touch since. But now she was back.

Izzy frowned, trying to remember but suddenly the only thing she could think about was the glaring fact that Grace had chosen to leave the area at the same time Charlie had taken Alys. Now it seemed a little too convenient and, if she hadn’t been on fistfuls of tranquilisers at the time, surely, she’d have forced the police to investigate this aspect of the case further.

She didn’t know how long she sat, staring into the past. Time was irrelevant to someone like her. Time was irrelevant to someone who’d had the whole world in the palm of her hand only to lose it in an instant. She didn’t know what pulled her out of her fugue. A rattle of cups? The door being pushed? The happy family of two-plus-two at the next table making more noise than sense?

In a spurt of energy, she picked up her scarf and wrapped it loosely around her neck, a quick look at her watch confirming that she’d spent far too long thinking about the past. She couldn’t do happy families, not now. Now she had to leave, if only to catch the last train home. Spending the night in Swansea weighed down with shopping was the very last thing she wanted to face just before Christmas.

The local supermarket was packed, but it was always going to be at this time of the evening. Her mind was still buzzing with thoughts of Grace but she clamped them down under an iron lid. She would think about her but not now. Not here. Not yet. She’d get all her jobs out of the way before letting her creep back inside.

Head down, she avoided anyone and everyone. She wanted to buy what she needed before journeying home and slamming the door. Only then would she allow her thoughts to drift back into the past.

‘Hello, Izzy, long time no see.’

She looked up into the face of DI Rhys Walker, brother of Rebecca, an old friend from her school days, and the lead detective in the search for Alys. St David’s wasn’t the largest place in the world and she was always bumping into people she knew but not in Rhys’s case. He was right when he said he hadn’t seen her around but that was only because she’d managed to avoid him by ducking into whichever bar, shop or restaurant she’d happened to be standing outside.

She’d dealt with Rhys. She’d spent what felt like a lifetime holed up in Swansea Police Station