My Little Brother

Diane Saxon

Description

Two siblings, both missing for 20 years turn up within one day of each other. One dead. One alive.

It was an ordinary school day, the day I lost my little brother.
One moment he was on the roundabout and then was gone. Gone. Missing.
They all blamed me. I was in charge. Even though I was only ten years old.
They sent me away. The hurt, the shame, the questions. The not knowing.
I tried to move on.

It’s been nineteen years in exile and now somebody wants me back.
Someone with a dark secret. They hold the keys, they know the truth.
So, I need to return to the Welsh village of my childhood to find out who, because I have a secret, too…

I did something bad.

Diane Saxon’s standalone thriller is sure to plunge you into the dark world of secrets and lies.

‘An intensely dark thriller.’ Ross Greenwood
'Packed full of secrets and lies, and in a town filled with an unsettling atmosphere Saxon succeeds in putting the ‘creep’ in creepy’ ' Valerie Keogh
'Gripping... I couldn't put it down.' Gemma Rogers
'A complex, dark and disturbing thriller, full of intrigue, toxic relationships and jaw dropping twists 5*' Alex Stone

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Thriller
• Policier
• Vie de famille
• Relations familiales
• Soutien psychologique et conseils familiaux
• Mashups
• Legal
• Psychological
• Hard-Boiled
• Amateur Sleuth
• Conflict Resolution
• Siblings
• World Literature
• Thrillers
• Bereavement
• Suspenso
• Friendship
• Street crime
• Psychological thriller
• Domestic
• Sibling
• Psychology
• Organized crime
• Grief
• 2023
• 2022
• Crime
• Legall de Kermeur
• Family Life
• Wales
• Suspense
• Death
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 11 juillet 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781804264676
• Langue: English

Extrait

MY LITTLE BROTHER



DIANE SAXON
First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Boldwood Books Ltd.
Copyright © Diane Saxon, 2022
Cover Design by Head Design
Cover Photography: Shutterstock
The moral right of Diane Saxon to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Paperback ISBN 978-1-80426-467-6
Large Print ISBN 978-1-80426-470-6
Hardback ISBN 978-1-80426-469-0
Ebook ISBN 978-1-80426-467-6
Kindle ISBN 978-1-80426-468-3
Audio CD ISBN 978-1-80426-475-1
MP3 CD ISBN 978-1-80426-472-0
Digital audio download ISBN 978-1-80426-466-9


Boldwood Books Ltd
23 Bowerdean Street
London SW6 3TN
www.boldwoodbooks.com
To Liz Chilton. My Friend.
CONTENTS



Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84


Acknowledgments

More from Diane Saxon

About the Author

About Boldwood Books
PROLOGUE
FRIDAY, 15TH OCTOBER 2001

Children spilled from the wide open doors of Moryd-oer Primary School.
They swarmed into the weak autumn sunshine, voices shrill with excitement as they broke up for half-term.
Most raced for the school bus, or their parents’ cars to go home to the outlying farms and communities the village primary school served.
The rest made a mad dash to the playground at the far end of the school fields.
Sharp elbows jabbed each other as they vied for their favourite pieces of equipment.
New rubber flooring in cheerful blue slashed through with a curving yellow path had been laid in the summer to give it a bright, new feel.
The monkey bars had been removed, though. Health and safety, the teachers had said. Not that any of the kids cared about safety. Young Joshua Bailey had knocked his head, blood gushing from it as they’d crowded around to gape.
His mam had screamed blue murder.
‘Hysterical woman,’ the mams had all whispered. ‘Precious boy.’
Still, Mrs Bailey’s well-placed hysteria had gained a virtually new playground. The equipment was updated and painted in primary colours. Two double sets of swings, a roundabout, and a new climbing frame with two slides. The see-saw was generous enough but too heavy to operate without at least three kids either side. God only knew what the Council had been thinking when they’d installed it, but the kids piled on, regardless.
Dylan Davies, eldest in the school and tallest by far, charged to the front of the exodus. His gangly legs outstretched even the fastest of them as he tore through the schoolyard into the field beyond to the playground.
As kids clambered over the equipment like ants, Dylan set the daffodil-yellow roundabout in motion. He put his bony shoulders into it as the smaller kids scrambled aboard.
With one last push, he yanked six-year old Lloyd off his feet and leaped onto the roundabout with him, settling him in the middle. Dylan clenched the bars in his fists and leaned outwards, tilting his head way back as the sun slid behind a pewter sky.
Lloyd sank onto the painted wooden boards, pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped protective arms around his legs.
Heavy black clouds wallowed over snow-capped mountains on the horizon. Strains of sunshine ripped thin tears in the clouds for a few precious moments before they were stitched together again to bring an unnatural gloom to the day.
Not that any of the kids cared. Freedom was all they were focused on. A full week without school. Their voices pitched high with excitement, they exhausted themselves on final bursts of energy before they dashed off home.
Caryn Peeke swiped the mop of mud-brown hair from her eyes as she sank onto the blue-seated swing she seemed to have waited an age for. She gave a kick of her heel to the ground to set it in motion.
A grim mizzle settled, bringing with it a greyness that coated the purple hills and valleys to blend them all the same colour.
The wet soaked through her oversized coat and sent a chill deep into her bones.
She sighed as she watched Lloyd, her little brother. He was happy enough, for now.
Dylan stepped off the roundabout and gave a small, drunken stagger as he made his way over to the empty swing beside her.
‘You off?’
She squinted through the fading Welsh light at Lloyd. Oblivious to everyone else, he crouched on the roundabout as it completed another lazy revolution. Face tilted to sky, growing heavier with rain, Lloyd’s lips moved as he silently counted.
His thumb touched the tip of each of his fingers on his left hand in perfect rhythm.
Little finger, ring finger, middle finger, forefinger.
Relentless repetition.
Little finger, ring finger, middle finger, forefinger.
‘Not yet. Mam asked me to keep Lloyd out a bit longer this afternoon.’ She cast Dylan a sideways glance knowing she could tell him. ‘She had one of her heads on her.’
Dylan nodded his understanding as he rooted in his pockets.
She told him most things, but felt a stab of disloyalty to say her mam could barely get out of bed this morning. They’d had to get their own breakfast as Dad had already left for work. An early start, he’d said.
Caryn fidgeted with the anguish of keeping the secret, but if she told Dylan, he might tell his parents and her mam and dad wouldn’t like that. Older than most of her friends’ parents, they were private people. Especially Mam. She’d not been well lately, always tired.
Still, Caryn felt dishonest, unable to tell her best friend.
And he was her best friend. Sharon and Annie were great, too, but they lived miles away and other than during school time, she never saw them. Some of the other girls couldn’t be bothered with Lloyd tagging along so they drifted off together after school.
Dylan was different. An only child, he kept an eye out for Lloyd.
Best friends since the day they started nursery, Caryn couldn’t imagine life without Dylan. Eldest in the school, something he was proud of. She was the youngest in their year. With her birthday at the end of August, she was only ten, almost a full year younger than him, bar a mere few days.
They’d make their move to senior school together, though. They’d always be together.
He gave her swing a hard push so a high-pitched squeal burst from her mouth before he settled onto the swing next to her. She gave him a quick sideways look as she leaned back encouraging her swing to swoop past his.
She’d probably marry Dylan one day. Become a farmer’s wife, tending sheep and milking cows. It was a fine ambition in life. To be like Dylan’s mam.
Caryn hitched her hood up as the swing slowed. She took a quick glance from under her fringe at the almost empty playground while the light dimmed prematurely before the October nightfall had a chance to lower its dark curtain.
The last of the kids slouched off home, leaving just the three of them.
‘Lloyd, time to go home!’
If she gave him plenty of warning, she might be able to shepherd him home without too much fuss.
With no sign he’d even heard her, she raised her voice. ‘Lloyd!’ She yelled as the swing slowed to a gentle sway. The thick metal chains she gripped icy enough to turn her fingers stiff.
‘Isn’t it your mam’s birthday?’
Caryn gave a small nod. ‘Dad’s ordered a cake from the bakery. To be delivered this afternoon.’
Dylan gave her a blank look, but it didn’t stem the ripple of excitement.
His mam had probably never bought a cake in her life, but Caryn’s mam wasn’t much for baking. She did love to indulge in a chocolate cake from the bakery on a special occasion.
Caryn’s mouth watered in anticipation. She could almost taste the thick, creamy chocolate icing and soft, rich sponge that melted in your mouth.
If she could grab Lloyd’s attention for a moment, she could persuade him with the promise of cake. Caryn hadn’t dared tell him before. There was no way he was capable of keeping a secret. It would blurt from his mouth and the surprise would be over.
It had been difficult enough for Caryn to keep the secret for almost an entire week since her dad told her. Her insides fluttered with the excitement