Never Close Your Eyes by Emma Burstall Read Free Book Online Page A

kids’ mysteries, a touch of the Enid Blytons, a sort of modern-day Famous Five. She was sure it would work.
    The bit she enjoyed most was describing the house in Devon where the children were holidaying, with its endless rooms and sprawling orchards surrounded by fields. So different from her own, poky childhood home.
    She shivered. Maybe she’d find some time to write some more on this trip. She could become a famous author and get off the hamster wheel. It wasn’t impossible. J. K. Rowling had done it.
    J. K. had been on her own when she’d started – a single mum. Becca thought of Tom. She hadn’t mentioned her dream, her fantasy of giving up work, to him. He’d just laugh and say that she couldn’t write for toffee. He, being a sports journalist, was the writer in the family. Her job was to make money and keep him in the lifestyle to which he was accustomed. She pictured him in that purple and gold kimono. She wished to God she’d never given it to him.
    She opened her eyes and was just about to switch off her BlackBerry when another email caught her attention. It was from Facebook.
    Gary Laybourn added you as a friend on Facebook. We need to confirm that you know Gary in order for you to be friends on Facebook.
    To confirm this friend request, follow the link below:
    http://www.facebook.com/n/?reqs.php
    Thanks,
    The Facebook Team
    Becca read the message again to be sure. Her breath started to come in short gasps. Gary Laybourn? From primary school? It couldn’t be. But she didn’t know anyone else with that name. It must be – but how had he found her? More importantly, how the hell had he recognised her?
    She smoothed her nearly-black hair and tucked it behind her ears – an involuntary movement. She should never have joined Facebook. She was a fool. She should have trusted her instincts. But everyone at work had been talking about it. It would have seemed odd if she hadn’t signed up. Besides, she looked totally different now.
    Not as different as she thought.
    She licked her lips and glanced around, half expecting a lynch mob to appear. No one had moved from their chairs; everything looked perfectly normal. The blood was pounding in her temples. She felt as if she was going to be sick.
    Gary Laybourn. What did he want? To sell her story to the News of the World ? She’d liked him once. He’d been nice to her. They were sort of going out, in a silly, twelve-year-old way, until . . . well.
    It was so long ago, in another life. She’d shoved all those memories in a box, buried it and thrown away the key.
    She switched off the BlackBerry quickly, took a deep breath, pulled The Smart Girl’s Guide to Looking Good and Feeling Great out of her handbag, but she couldn’t concentrate. It was impossible. As soon as the plane reached ten thousand feet she grabbed her iPod. She needed the relaxation CD again. She’d known something like this would happen one day. It was bound to. She wasn’t prepared, though. How could you be?
    She closed her eyes and tried to clear her brain, calm herself down. She’d bin the email and never hear from him again. She was shivering, she felt so cold. She’d liked him so much. He’d written to her a couple of times but she hadn’t written back. She tried to imagine what he was doing now. Was he married? Did he have children? She’d like to know – but could she trust him?
    â€˜Good morning, madam, have you decided what you’d like for breakfast?’ The male air steward’s smile seemed to have been pinned on his face and abandoned there.
    Becca shook her head.
    He frowned. ‘Do you need any assistance?’ She must have gone white.
    â€˜No thanks.’ She tried to smile. ‘I’m not hungry.’
    She plugged in her earphones again. ‘Loose and limp, loose and limp,’ the woman on the CD said. But Becca couldn’t concentrate, the soothing