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The Lost Ones
Anita Frank
Some houses are never at peace. England, 1917 Reeling from the death of her fiancé, Stella Marcham welcomes the opportunity to stay with her pregnant sister, Madeleine, at her imposing country mansion, Greyswick – but she arrives to discover a house of unease and her sister gripped by fear and suspicion. Before long, strange incidents begin to trouble Stella – sobbing in the night, little footsteps on the stairs – and as events escalate, she finds herself drawn to the tragic history of the house. Aided by a wounded war veteran, Stella sets about uncovering Greyswick’s dark and terrible secrets – secrets the dead whisper from the other side… In the classic tradition of The Woman in Black, Anita Frank weaves a spell-binding debut of family tragedy, loss and redemption. Praise for The Lost Ones ‘Haunting, emotional and exquisitely written’ Amanda Jennings ‘For fans of Henry James and Susan Hill, this chilling supernatural mystery is written in the classic mould. Intriguing, moving and assured’ Essie Fox ‘I loved it SO MUCH – so creepy and compelling, full of atmosphere and gave me goosebumps…’ Lisa Hall ‘If you liked A Woman in Black, you’ll love this utterly gripping and atmospheric book’ WOMAN&HOME ‘My coffee is stone cold. My palms are sweaty. I’ve raced to the shocking final twist of this lush, beautifully written historical novel. A gripping ghost story with an achingly poignant family mystery at its heart’ Samantha King ‘An assured debut novel combining two well-loved literary genres set in country houses: the haunted house and the Agatha Christie-style whodunnit. Anita Frank’s fiendishly devised plot springs a succession of shocks and revelations that keep you gripped until the final page’ Noel O’Reilly
ANITA FRANK was born in Shropshire and studied English and American History at the University of East Anglia. She lives in Berkshire with her husband and three children and is now a full-time carer for her disabled son. This is her first novel.
The Lost Ones
Anita Frank
ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES
Copyright (#ulink_50717fcf-da81-53b0-94bf-7b04432755cc)
An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019
Copyright © Anita Frank 2019
Anita Frank asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © October 2019 ISBN: 9780008341206
Note to Readers (#ulink_2483bd43-3422-5a29-9571-f3c2a62918fd)
This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:
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Page numbers taken from the following print edition: ISBN 9780008341220
For Rebecca
Contents
Cover (#u198214d4-c54b-586a-a80c-2a6615103a6c)
About the Author (#u3c14f348-8853-591c-991a-a0c3e51d5db0)
Title Page (#ue19c5e59-2008-5208-b479-4861f3504971)
Copyright (#ulink_77b556d1-2c28-5bb2-9dcd-e491d0f97786)
Note to Readers (#ulink_6a4483b8-bd5c-557a-8d26-1f824bf88f53)
Dedication (#ue5ead5e3-56df-5353-ad26-2af1f809f4bc)
Chapter One (#ulink_1ecb8d84-f427-52be-814d-5d703f9212de)
Chapter Two (#ulink_742ae772-2af6-52e8-82b4-5c1c39e1ab90)
Chapter Three (#ulink_cfe160f4-1554-5d6c-a7cb-cffb173703c5)
Chapter Four (#ulink_ab4d83e9-2754-59ad-a303-1fa84e283ddf)
Chapter Five (#ulink_f17ef7a1-4ed7-550a-bcdb-5cce39fedcee)
Chapter Six (#ulink_41aeadf9-b031-5083-878e-4c38089958ad)
Chapter Seven (#ulink_6e6e2fc1-6ae5-5046-afad-6766f3ee5f97)
Chapter Eight (#ulink_55bc14bf-5f27-5848-a914-12c5d8a46269)
Chapter Nine (#ulink_e48c8f49-5c93-5e70-989f-cd27ddf222f0)
Chapter Ten (#ulink_51734e66-e829-57ac-9730-7f0ad0cdda39)
Chapter Eleven (#ulink_bdfb4e58-fe0c-5a3a-a5c5-a1fa094e4b4a)
Chapter Twelve (#ulink_b44e6810-3bbc-51b3-9923-06a41d579aa7)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_ffade310-8ad9-5113-9ca0-90d04ffdf610)
Sunday, 6th May 1917
The brass plaque, polished so it shone like burnished gold, was mounted pride of place on the chantry wall – a new, if unwelcome, addition to the village church. Our boxed family pew was situated directly opposite, and rather than crick my neck to observe the vicar intoning from his elevated position in the pulpit, I found myself captivated by the ornate inscription.
IN MEMORY
ROBERT RICHARDSON
2ND LIEUT, 3RD MILITIA BN, BERKSHIRE REGT BELOVED ONLY SON OF MR AND MRS HENRY RICHARDSON KILLED IN ACTUAL FIGHTING IN FRANCE, 2ND JULY 1916 AGED 18 YEARS
DUTY NOBLY DONE
I closed my eyes for a moment as I recalled the blissful summer of 1914: all baking heat and leisurely pleasures; a cricket match on the village green. I remembered a willowy school boy: a muss of ruffled blond hair, cheeks dimpled by an irrepressible grin, a streak of red down the thigh of his white flannels, a powerful run up, a perfect windmill arm, the satisfying clatter of stumps, a smatter of applause. They never found his body. His parents had been forced to settle for the plaque rather than a grave. He was just eighteen years old, a school-boy officer fresh from the fields of Eton.
As I read and re-read the words, my fingers strayed to the gold locket that hung against my black coat. It no longer gleamed, dulled as it was by too much caressing. I finally managed to tear my eyes away, but my gaze only strayed as far as the front pew, settling on the poor boy’s parents. They sat shoulder to shoulder, rigid with grief. Mrs Richardson, once a charismatic, vibrant woman, had been greatly reduced by her son’s death. Her plump and rosy cheeks were now sunk into hollows, giving her a cadaverous appearance, while her finely appointed mourning clothes sagged over her diminishing frame. I had no doubt she was aware of another mother, sitting just a few rows back. Mrs Whittaker’s broad shoulders shook with misery, for her anguish was still fresh and raw. We three cast sombre shadows, stagnant pools of grief amidst the amassed congregation.
