The Last Holiday

THE LAST HOLIDAY A COMPLETELY UNPUTDOWNABLE PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER WITH A BREATHTAKING TWIST AMY SHEPPARD BOOKS BY AMY SHEPPARD The Last Holiday The Beach Party AVAILABLE IN AUDIO The Beach Party (Available in the UK and the US) CONTENTS Prologue 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 The Beach Party Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Hear More from Amy Books by Amy Sheppard A Letter from Amy Acknowledgements PROLOGUE We’d been friends since we were kids. We knew every scar, every secret, every story. It’s the little things that stay with you. The hurried rip of zips being opened. Limbs bouncing against tent fabric. The screams echoing across the campsite as flashlights scoured the ground. In the hours and days that followed, a hole opened up. A hole where an expectation of goodness had once been. The knowledge that awful things can happen to the people you love. The police investigation began immediately. Before her body had been removed. Before the sun had fully risen over the little tent village. They needed to know everything. Every scar, every secret, every story. That’s what happens when someone you love is murdered. CHAPTER ONE CHARLOTTE Four days before My phone flashed on the bedside table beside me. The alarm I’d carefully set the night before telling me it was 6 a.m. It wasn’t needed, I’d been awake for three hours. Woken by the sound of Tristen getting home and quietly letting himself into the spare room. Woken by my subconscious anxiously creating lists and acting out possible scenarios. In two hours, we’d be leaving for a camping trip to Cornwall. A camping trip with our old college friends. Me and Tristen had known Annie, Jack and Stella for twenty-five years. We were sixteen when we met. That’s how long me and Tristen had been together. A lot had happened to us all in that time: kids, marriage… divorce. But me and Tristen had managed to stay together. Through endless military postings, through the arrival of Theo. Me and Tristen were hanging on by our fingertips, but we were still together. I turned over in bed. Stroking the crisp whiteness of the sheets in the empty space next to me. I played possible versions of today over in my head. Jack and his wife, Kelly, had organised the camping trip. Kelly was Jack’s second wife. They’d been together for five years, married for two. I’d not seen a lot of Jack in that time. It was still a shock every time we met up, that his first wife, Lisa, wasn’t there. They had been married for eleven years and had two boys together. Over the time of their marriage, I’d become closer to Lisa than I was to Jack. A little while after the divorce, me and Lisa stopped calling each other. We stopped meeting up for coffee and the occasional night out. Eventually, even the Christmas cards stopped. It’s hard to stay friends with the ex-wife of one of your oldest friends—even if you do prefer them to their new wife. I pulled myself up and sat on the edge of the bed. My feet automatically scuffed the soft beige carpet in search of my slippers. I slid my toes into the ends of the plain moccasins and tried to summon the strength to stand. My thin cotton pyjamas stretched tightly over my thighs. I prodded the doughy flesh with frustration. Stella and Annie would look incredible, they always did. Stella with her perfect, make-up-free skin. Her figure would be toned from rock climbing or surfing or whatever outdoor sport she was into now. Annie would be immaculate. Her hair would be smoothed into a perfect red glossy bob. She was short in stature and tiny in frame. Annie had spent thirty years denying herself food. Sugar carbs, fats… There were few things more important to her than staying slim. She’d be dressed head to toe in black. The only colour would be a slash of crimson across her full lips. It was like her uniform. An expensive, designer uniform. I wondered what version of herself Annie would be this trip. She had always been one of the most generous people I knew. Someone who would fight your corner. Annie was wild, but she was someone you wanted on your side. Even at the best of times, she could be self-centred and forceful. This weekend might not be the best of times. I bit my lip with shame. Why was I thinking like this? After everything Annie had done for me over the years. I walked to the dressing table mirror, studying my tired face in the small shard of light that escaped through a gap in the curtains. My mousy brown waves had turned to frizz overnight in the clammy August heat. Even in the darkness I could see how pale I was. How deep the lines around my eyes were. I tilted my head. Running my finger gently down the scar on my jaw. It wasn’t as visible these days. But I was always aware of it. To me, it was as deep as if it had happened yesterday. We were all forty-two. Me, Tristen, Annie, Stella and Jack. I was the only one who looked every single year of it. The bottom of the bedroom door brushed against the carpet as it slowly slid open. Theo padded