The Neighbour’s Secret

Dan Clark THE NEIGHBOUR’S SECRET Copyright © 2022 by Dan Clark All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. First edition This book was professionally typeset on ReedsyFind out more at reedsy.com Contents Other booksPrologueChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35EpilogueA WORD FROM THE AUTHORMORE BOOKS BY DAN CLARK Other books THE BOY IN THE WELL I’LL FIND YOU http://danclarkauthor.com/ Prologue FIVE YEARS AGO The sky was dark and the air thick with mist as it dished out an icy bite. The car speeding down the quiet country lane at two a.m. had its fog lights on and was swerving over to the next lane, occupying both sides of the road at once. Though the driver of the car wasn’t drunk, nor was he under the influence of any drugs. He was simply using his phone, biting his lip anxiously as he waited for the bars in the corner of the screen to rise and reward him with data. It was directions which he needed to the place he had planned to visit. Nearly there, he thought as one clammy hand squeezed the steering wheel. A little further to go before I’m free. He has one more thing to do before he can call it a night and move on with his life. Then he can forget all about her, treat the woman as nothing but a bad memory. During the day, with the sun shining and the bends easier to see, he would know exactly where the place was. He’d probably even be able to point it out on a map. He’d visited it many times in the past, referring to it as his secret fishing spot. The place he could spend the day, watching his float in the water, thinking as he overcomes any problems which he may have without having to see another soul. But at this time of morning, with the heavy blanket of fog thick and dense in the air making it almost impossible to see a few yards in front, he needed the navigation app to find the entrance. Luckily, he’d stored it on his phone years ago. He knew, with the dark lanes and the incredible risk he was taking, he couldn’t chance missing the turning. That would only waste time. Besides, he already knew he had his work cut out. And so, he stepped on the peddle a little harder, increasing the car’s speed. The engine revving louder and louder, doing almost fifty mph. Way too dangerous for this tiny, winding country lane. The tyres skid along the wet embankment, pushing the car further over to the next lane. Once again, the driver brought it back under control, keeping his concentration on the road for a second or two, then moved his attention back to his phone screen. He watched as the loading symbol rotated, the mini arrow on the screen that symbolised the car, was spinning in all different directions, working hard on pinpointing itself on the map. He should slow down; he can’t risk losing control and coming off the road, ending upside down in a field or worse, hitting another car and bringing even more unwanted attention. Attention was the last thing he needed. Especially with the body lying on the back seat, bloodied and beaten. How would he explain that to the authorities? Further down the lane, the tyres hit the raised embankment again, pushing him back into the centre of the road. He stomped on the brakes, quickly slowing the car down and repositioned it back into his own lane. Checking his phone screen again, he frowns at the arrow dancing across the unloaded map and brings the car back up to speed. Forty, forty-five, fifty. His face feels hot and wet, causing him to rub the back of his hand across his forehead to get rid of some of the sweat. He instantly pulled his hand away, feeling a sharp pain at the side of his temple. Confused, he switches on the internal light above the mirror, checks the road once more and then studies himself in the rear-view. “Shit!” he mumbled, seeing the left side of his forehead bleeding. The front of his shirt soaked in blood. Though he hadn’t noticed earlier, what with the driving and the shitty data. “You…” he stopped himself before finishing and took a deep breath, attempting to control his heavy breathing. He mustn’t let the anger control him. “You… miserable bitch!” he yelled, biting down on his bottom lip and ignoring his own advice. He knew the woman couldn’t reply - dead people hardly did. The fight from earlier came back to him. * * * He had arrived and sat out in his car for a while, rehearsing his words so he can say what was needed and be gone. He tried talking to the woman, reasoning and explaining how he had felt, shared his feelings. Then he attempted to explain that he no longer wanted what she wanted, no longer felt the same way that she did. Admitting to her that she was no longer who he wanted to spend his life with, and that they should call it a day and move on. Meet someone new and be happy. But the woman wouldn’t accept it. She couldn’t acknowledge that their relationship was over.