The Promise: The twisty new thriller from the Sunday Times bestseller, guaranteed to keep you up all night. Katerina Diamond
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demanded revenge. He made a mental note to find out if there were any known issues between the sisters. Her grief was genuine; he was sure of that. He could see it, and he could feel it.
‘Can you tell us what phone your sister had, Sarah? We couldn’t find it in her home.’
‘I don’t know, it was a pink thing, she bought a load of jewels off eBay and covered it herself because she couldn’t find a case she liked.’
‘Any idea where it would be?’
‘Well he must have taken it, whoever did this to her.’
‘We thought so too, but we wanted to check with you.’
‘Did she spend a lot of time at the computer?’ Imogen asked.
‘She was always on her mobile – like I said, she was practically glued to it. She had a laptop though. Did you not find that either?’
There was a short silence; they hadn’t found it.
‘OK, well thank you for coming in and speaking to us, Sarah. We’ll get in touch with you if we need to talk about anything else. Is that OK?’ Adrian stood up and held his hand out for her to shake it.
‘What’s the point?’ She stood up, looked at his hand without taking it and turned to leave the room.
Adrian put his hand on her shoulder, she turned back to him.
‘I lost someone I cared about recently too.’ Adrian felt Imogen’s eyes burning into him as he spoke to Sarah Lawson, but he needed to say the words, he needed to get this out. ‘I know how you feel, I know you want her back more than anything, and if we could do that we would. We can’t. All we can do is make sure the person who did this to her doesn’t get away with it. She was important and what happened to her shouldn’t have happened. Help us to honour her memory by putting the man who did this behind bars.’
She nodded and sobbed. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, Adrian pulled her in and put his arms around her in a hug. She had said she didn’t have anyone, and he could feel it in the way she clung to him; he felt her chest heaving as the grief engulfed her. The last person who had hugged her was probably her sister, and now she was gone. He had to pull away before he allowed himself to be sucked into his own feeling of loss.
She looked up at him; he could feel that she had understood what he was saying. He hoped that if nothing else, it had made her feel a little better, even though he knew the truth was that nothing would make her feel the same ever again. She would learn to live with the piece of her that was missing; that was all time did. There was no healing, but there was learning to cope with the absence.
Sarah left the room and Adrian followed at a distance. He felt Imogen’s hand on his shoulder.
‘Miley, are you OK?’ She was breaking their rule of asking about each other’s feelings, but for once he didn’t mind.
‘I will be.’ Wouldn’t he?
I’m writing this because I have to tell someone and because I don’t think I’m going to be alive for much longer. I can feel inside that my time is coming to an end. In a way, I think it will be a relief when it finally happens, but I’m scared about all the things that may happen before. So, I want to tell you a story, my story. For you to fully appreciate the situation, I’ll have to start on the day I met him, the day I met them both.
I had just started working at the service station; I would cycle out there at five in the morning and start my shift behind the counter. They would come in every morning and order the same thing and then go and sit at the same table. The taller one with the big smile would order a full English breakfast and a mug of tea, but the quiet one always just had a bacon sandwich, every day for months. It went on like this until one of them finally spoke to me – about something other than just their food order. It was the taller one, as I suspected it always would be.
Did you ever meet someone and just know that this meeting was the first of many? That from the moment your lives came together there was a story to be told, that you had some kind of cosmic business together, something that needed to play out. I knew from almost the first time I saw them both that my life had changed; I felt something shift inside me. I know that sounds like complete nonsense, but I do believe that I was meant to meet them. I even feel happy saying that. Given all that has happened, it seems strange for me to look upon that time as a good thing, but I swear to you, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
He asked me why I put colours in my hair, told me that the purple streak had been his favourite so far. He asked me my name, and then he just kept talking until the quiet one nudged him and he stopped talking long enough for me to walk back into the kitchen, my boss’s watchful eyes urging me to get back to work. For the rest of that day I had a smile on my face; I remembered his interest in me and I felt special. I had always been a bit on the awkward side, a bit of an outsider. I was never the girl that people paid attention to. I stayed in the background and let everyone else get on with their business. If I was ever noticed, it was always for the wrong reasons. I didn’t really mind my life being that way, at least I didn’t until I met them, but for that one moment I felt special, and suddenly I felt angry about all the people who hadn’t made me feel special in the past.
From then on, I looked forward to going to work. Every day felt like a new adventure. I didn’t know what he was going to ask me next, and that was exciting. I had had crushes before but only on celebrities, never on anyone I knew, and never on anyone who fed my crush, who nurtured and cultivated it until it was a burning fireball of desire. And for all this, I still didn’t know his name. He wore a denim jacket, the kind with white wool inside the collar. There was an embroidered patch on his breast pocket with a rocket on it. The first time I called him Rocket, that beautiful grin spread across his face and I guess the name just stuck. His friend silently at his side for each encounter, looking down whenever I glanced his way.
It only took a few months before I was in love with Rocket.
It was a long time before there was even the remotest possibility that anything might happen between us. I guessed that he was just very friendly; his quiet companion seemed to shrug off his behaviour as though it were completely standard, as though everywhere they went he had to listen to his spiel over and over again. His referred to his friend as JD. Rocket would make statements and then turn to his accomplice for confirmation, and JD would just nod and smile shyly. During those first few months, I’m not sure I even heard JD speak twenty words. Rocket did all the talking.
I remember our first kiss as though it were yesterday. It was romantic, even though from the outside it might not seem that way. To me, though, to me it felt as though my heart was going to explode.
The breakfast rush was over and I was taking the rubbish out to the communal bin area. It was hidden away from the public, but as I pushed the sacks into the giant blue wheelie bin, I heard his voice calling out to me from the staff car park. He must have jumped the barrier and come around there. To find me.
My hair flopped in front of one eye and I couldn’t sweep it away because my hands were covered in some mystery substance from the lid of the bin. I held my hands out by my sides, aware that they were trembling somewhat, and I just stared at him with my one exposed eye. I felt so stupid, but still special at the same time. He walked towards me and took the pink streak that hung across my face, tucking it behind my ear. Just like that, after all this time, he kissed me and I will never forget the look on his face when he pulled away from me. He looked dizzy; it was the first time I had seen his confidence shaken. I made him feel something, I knew I did.
People started to notice the chemistry between us and it wasn’t long before I could see the people I worked with getting excited at watching the romance unfold. There was