Chapter 1

       London, England

      This is the moment I’ve been dreading. It’s time for me to go back. I play with the Triskelion pendant around my neck, my finger rubbing each of the three edges in turn. Father. Mother. Child. I read the email once again.

      From: Roisin Marshall

      To: Erin Hurley

      Subject: Meeting Up

      Hello Erin

      You can’t keep ignoring me. I’m sure you never really thought you could walk away from everyone and everything.

      I have something that might interest you.

      Call me.

      Roisin

      My finger hovers over the reply key. For a fleeting moment I consider deleting the message. If I ignore it, she may go away. She may give up. I sit back in my chair and let out a long, slow breath. The anxiety that has lain dormant for all this time, having now been stirred, stretches its hand, grips tightly and twists my stomach. No matter how many times I have anticipated this moment, prepared myself to confront my past, right now, it’s insufficient.

      ‘Aha! Caught you.’ A voice from behind startles me. Somehow I manage to click on the inbox icon, clearing the screen of the email. I plaster on a smile and spin round in my chair to face Ed.

      ‘You made me jump,’ I say, noting that I sound overly cheerful. ‘How long have you been there?’ My mind replays the last few minutes. How long had I been staring at the email? How long was it visible on the screen? Could Ed have read it from where he was standing?

      Ed gives a small laugh. ‘What are you trying to hide?’

      I know he’s only joking but he has no idea how true his words are.

      ‘Now, it wouldn’t do for a girl to tell her boss and her boyfriend all her secrets, would it?’ My turn to laugh. It sounds forced. Ed cocks his head to one side, weighing me up.

      The phone on my desk rings and I offer a silent prayer of thanks that I am saved from having to continue the conversation.

      ‘Good afternoon, Hamilton’s Health and Beauty Spa.’ I glance back up at Ed, who winks before returning to his office.

      The immediate danger has passed, but the ever-present fear remains, which only serves to convince me I must do something about it. I cannot afford to let chance or luck, bad luck even, take control. I can afford even less to let my old school friend be in charge.

      I turn my attention to the call and quickly deal with booking an appointment for a back massage. Replacing the phone in its cradle, I peek back through to Ed’s office.

      He’s busy looking at his computer screen. I return to mine, calling up Roisin’s email again. Instead of replying, I forward it onto my own private email address. One I will have to sacrifice giving to her. I don’t want her trying to contact me at work again. I check my phone and see the email has been received. Next job is to delete the email coming in and going out of the work computer. I know there will be some sort of cyber-footprint, but no one will be looking for that.