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The Escape
C.L. Taylor
The Sunday Times bestseller returns with her most thrilling book yet. An unputdownable read for fans of Into the Water and The Girlfriend."Look after your daughter's things. And your daughter…"When a stranger asks Jo Blackmore for a lift she says yes, then swiftly wishes she hadn't.The stranger knows Jo's name, she knows her husband Max and she's got a glove belonging to Jo's two year old daughter Elise.What begins with a subtle threat swiftly turns into a nightmare as the police, social services and even Jo's own husband turn against her.No one believes that Elise is in danger. But Jo knows there's only one way to keep her child safe – RUN.The Sunday Times bestseller returns with her biggest and best book yet. The perfect read for fans of Paula Hawkins and Clare Mackintosh.Praise for C.L. Taylor:‘A gripping and disturbing psychological thriller’ Clare Mackintosh‘Absorbing and disturbing’ Alex Marwood‘Loved it’ Fiona Barton‘Claustrophobic, tense and thrilling’ Elizabeth Haynes
C. L. Taylor
The ESCAPE
Copyright
Published by Avon an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street,
London, SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk/)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2017
Copyright © C.L. Taylor 2017
Cover photographs © Silas Manhood Photography
Cover design © HarperCollins 2017
C.L. Taylor asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of 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, down-loaded, 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.
Source ISBN: 9780008118075
Ebook Edition © March 2017 ISBN: 9780008118082
Version 2018-10-25
Praise for C.L. Taylor
‘The Missing has a delicious sense of foreboding from the first page, luring us into the heart of a family with terrible secrets and making us wait, with pounding hearts for the final, agonising twist. Loved it.’
Fiona Barton
‘Black Narcissus for the Facebook generation, a clever exploration of how petty jealousies and misunderstandings can unravel even the tightest of friendships. Claustrophobic, tense and thrilling, a thrill-ride of a novel that keeps you guessing.’
Elizabeth Haynes
‘A gripping and disturbing psychological thriller.’
Clare Mackintosh
‘As with all her books, C.L. Taylor delivers real pace, and it’s a story that keeps calling the reader back – so much so that I read it from cover to cover in one day.’
Rachel Abbott
‘A dark and gripping read that engrossed me from start to finish.’
Mel Sherratt
‘Kept me guessing till the end.’
Sun
‘Haunting and heart-stoppingly creepy, The Lie is a gripping roller coaster of suspense.’
Sunday Express
‘5/5 stars – Spine-chilling!’
Woman
‘An excellent psychological thriller.’
Heat
‘Packed with twists and turns, this brilliantly tense thriller will get your blood pumping.’
Fabulous
‘Fast-paced, tense and atmospheric, a guaranteed bestseller.’
Mark Edwards
‘A real page-turner … creepy, horrifying and twisty. You have no idea which characters you can trust, and the result is intriguing, scary and extremely gripping.’
Julie Cohen
‘A compelling, addictive and wonderfully written tale. Can’t recommend it enough.’
Louise Douglas
See what bloggers are saying about C.L. Taylor …
‘An intriguing and stirring tale, overflowing with family drama.’
Lovereading.co.uk
‘Astoundingly written, The Missing pulls you in from the very first page and doesn’t let you go until the final full stop.’
Bibliophile Book Club
‘[The Missing] inspired such a mixture of emotions in me and made me realise how truly talented you have to be to even attempt a psychological suspense of this calibre.’
My Chestnut Reading Tree
‘Tense and gripping with a dark, ominous feeling that seeps through the very clever writing … all praise to C.L. Taylor.’
Anne Cater, Random Things Through My Letterbox
‘C.L. Taylor has done it again, with another compelling masterpiece.’
Rachel’s Random Reads
‘In a crowded landscape of so-called domestic noir thrillers, most of which rely on clever twists and big reveals, [The Missing] stands out for its subtle and thoughtful analysis of the fallout from a loss in the family.’
Crime Fiction Lover
‘When I had finished, I felt like someone had ripped my heart out and wrung it out like a dish cloth.’
By the Letter Book Reviews
‘The Missing has such a big, juicy storyline and is a dream read if you like books that will keep you guessing and take on plenty of twists and turns.’
Bookaholic Confessions
‘Incredibly thrilling and utterly unpredictable! A must read!’
Aggie’s Books
‘A gripping story.’
Bibliomaniac
‘It’s the first time I have cried whilst reading. The last chapter [of The Missing] was heart-breaking and uplifting at the same time.’
The Coffee and Kindle
‘Another hit from C.L. Taylor … so cleverly written and so absorbing that I completely forgot about everything else while reading it. Unmissable.’
Alba in Book Land
Dedication
For my son, Seth Hall
‘Love you forever’
PART ONE
Charter 1
Someone is walking directly behind me, matching me pace for pace. Her perfume catches in the back of my throat: a strong, heady mix of musk and something floral. Jasmine maybe, or lily. She’s so close she’d smack into me if I stopped abruptly. Why doesn’t she just overtake? It’s a quiet street, tucked round the back of the university, with space for half a dozen cars to park but the pavement is easily wide enough for two people to walk abreast of each other.
I speed up. Elise will be the last child left at nursery, all alone and wondering where I am. I was ready to leave work at 5 p.m. on the dot, but then a student walked into the office and burst into tears. She hadn’t got her assignment in on time and she was terrified she was going to get kicked off her course. I couldn’t walk away when she was in that state. I had to talk her down. By the time she walked out of the office she was smiling again but sweat was pricking at my armpits. 5.15 p.m. I never leave work that late. Never.
My car is only a hundred metres away. In less than a minute I’ll be inside with the door shut, the engine running and the music on. I’ll be safe. Everything will be OK.
Fifty metres away.
The woman behind me is breathing heavily. She’s sped up too.
Twenty metres away.
I feel a light dragging sensation on the back of my coat; a hand, trying and failing to grab hold of the material.
Ten metres away.
High heels clip-clop behind me as I step into the road and approach the driver’s side of my car. I reach into my coat pocket for my keys but all I find is a balled tissue, a small packet of raisins and some sweet wrappers. I reach into my other pocket and my fingers close around the car keys. As I do, a hand clamps down on my shoulder.
My heart lurches in my chest as I twist round, raising my arms in self-defence.
‘Woah!’ A blonde woman my age jumps away from me, her eyes wide. She’s dressed in a thick, padded jacket, skinny jeans and heels. ‘I was only going to ask for directions.’
All the fear in my body leaves in one raggedy breath. She just wants directions.
The woman’s eyes, heavily ringed with black kohl, don’t leave my face. ‘Do you know where I can get a bus to Brecknock Road?’
I feel a jolt of surprise. ‘Brecknock? That’s where I live.’
‘Is it?’ she says. ‘What a coincidence.’
I thought she was in her forties like me but her line-free forehead and arched eyebrows are betrayed by a sagginess to her jaw and a crinkling to her neck that suggest she’s at least ten years older.
She glances at my hand, resting on the window of the car. ‘I don’t suppose you’re going there now?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Brecknock Road. Could I have a lift?’
I don’t know how to react. I don’t want her in my car. Not when I’m feeling like this. I need to calm myself down before I get to the nursery. I don’t want Elise to see me in a state.
The blonde’s eyes flick towards the pavement as a young bloke in a heavy overcoat strolls past. He’s on his phone and doesn’t give either of us a second glance.
‘My son and daughter are exactly the same. Always got their noses in their phones,’ she says convivially as the man disappears around the corner and we are alone again. Either she’s completely unaware of how awkward and uncomfortable I feel as a result of her request or she just doesn’t care.
