The Housekeeper's Daughter

THEHOUSEKEEPER’SDAUGHTER An unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist E.V. SEYMOUR Sequel to The Patient First published as An Imperfect Past Revised edition 2023 Joffe Books, London www.joffebooks.com First published in the USA in 2017 as An Imperfect Past © E.V. Seymour 2017, 2023 This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this. The right of E.V. Seymour to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. We love to hear from our readers! Please email any feedback you have to: [email protected] Cover art by Nick Castle ISBN: 978-1-80405-883-1 CONTENTS Love Free Bestselling Fiction? Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Chapter Forty-Seven Chapter Forty-Eight Chapter Forty-Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-One Chapter Fifty-Two Chapter Fifty-Three Chapter Fifty-Four Chapter Fifty-Five Chapter Fifty-Six Chapter Fifty-Seven Chapter Fifty-Eight Chapter Fifty-Nine Chapter Sixty Chapter Sixty-One Chapter Sixty-Two Chapter Sixty-Three Chapter Sixty-Four Chapter Sixty-Five Chapter Sixty-Six Chapter Sixty-Seven Chapter Sixty-Eight Chapter Sixty-Nine Chapter Seventy Chapter Seventy-One Chapter Seventy-Two Chapter Seventy-Three Chapter Seventy-Four Chapter Seventy-Five Chapter Seventy-Six Acknowledgements Love Free Bestselling Fiction? The Joffe Books Story Also by E.V. Seymour A Selection of Books You May Enjoy Glossary of English Usage for US Readers Love Free Bestselling Fiction? Join our mailing list and get a FREE Kindle book from a bestselling author every week! Click here to join our mailing list and also get a free box set of short stories! Follow us on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @joffebooks For Susie Davis, friend and best writing pal. Thanks for listening to just about everything. “My name is Kim Slade. I’m thirty-six years old and a clinical psychologist. I specialise in treating patients with eating disorders. My mother abandoned me when I was little. My lover is dead, murdered by his best friend, the man who stalked me. My father and one of my brothers are also dead, the former from old age and hard living, the latter through accident and no fault of his own. Rarely, but sometimes, I lose a client. You could say that people leave me abruptly. Death has a habit of snapping at my heels.” “Does it scare you?” My heart gallops in my chest. I look straight ahead and meet the therapist’s eye. “You bet.” Chapter One Thank you for choosing this book. Join our mailing list and get FREE Kindle books from our bestselling authors every week! CLICK HERE TO GET MORE LOVELY BOOK DEALS Not the kind of woman to cut and run, right now I wanted to get the hell out, flee, hide under a dirty great rock and stay there. Then Jim Copplestone shambled down the corridor banging on about psychopaths. “According to the most recent American study, brain scans indicate that certain regions of the brain, areas that govern empathy and morality, for example, are entirely closed off. Rather proves the point that it’s all down to genetics,” he added with a provocative expression. I muttered something, sucked in a deep gulp of air and tore into my consulting room. Undeterred, Jim followed and parked his bony rear on the edge of the desk, folded his arms and drew his big, louche eyebrows together. A psychiatrist and clinical director of Ellerslie Lodge, a fifteen-bedded residential home for anorexic young women, Jim was my boss. We shared history. A staunch ally, he had once cut me slack when others would have shown me the door. Not to put too fine a point on it, I’d found him to be fair-minded when the need arose. We got on well as professionals and colleagues, more so as friends, even if sometimes he annoyed the hell out of me. When the direct line phone blared, he stayed put. Maybe he was checking to see if I was up to the job. Shrugging off my coat, I picked up the call and spoke in my best professional telephone voice, no hint of a Devon burr, no wobble in the tone. “Kim Slade.” “Kim, it’s Georgia.” I brightened. We’d been mates and regular lunch chums for years. “Hi,” I said. “Great to hear from you.” “Cut and rewind.” “Oh?” “Look, I’m sorry to drop this on you,” Georgia said. “Drop what exactly?” Obviously this was no prelude to a social invitation. My first instinct proved correct. Returning to work this soon and on a Sunday, no less, had been a rubbish idea. “Hasn’t Jim caught you up to speed yet?” The thought of catching up to speed crushed me. I’d had what most people commonly refer to as a nervous breakdown, a phrase never used in medical circles and too crude a description for a condition that embraced anything from depression to high anxiety state to schizophrenia. I regarded it as my crash and burn episode, and a textbook response to traumatic events. Not good news for a shrink. I was better now — or so I’d been told. Clamping my hand over the receiver, I mouthed Dr Thorne to Jim who pulled a face and slapped his forehead. “Shit, I forgot.” That’s what happens when you get carried away with chat about psychopaths, I thought. Important stuff careers out of the door and onto