Extracts

Last night Rebekah tried to murder me again.

Dear Amelia, There was an attempt to escape from the jail last night and a small riot ensued. Most unusual.

In September 1970, two sites squared off for the title of the center of the world: Piccadilly Circus, in London, and Dam Square, in Amsterdam.

My favourite time of day is ‘magic hour’, when the sun takes a dive behind the craggy mountain ranges and the sky is painted a stunning purple-pink.

They must think I don’t have long left, because today they allow the vicar in.

Feed my lambs, Jesus said.

No one saw them. No one heard them. They were not supposed to.

Balancing a tray loaded with dirty glassware, Darrien Summers dodged the masked men and women in evening dress as he made his way through the dining room.

When I was a little boy I had a recurring nightmare about a huge ball.

‘I hope you’ve got a stronger stomach.’

At the bang of a car door out in the street, Katy glanced out of the bedroom window.

The air reeked of smoke and burnt flesh.

The morning light was disappointing, spilling faintly across the stone floor and making very little of the shattered bowl or its contents.

I know instantly.

Great Achilles. Brilliant Achilles, shining Achilles, godlike Achilles . . . How the epithets pile up.

James Rogers never cried at his mother’s death.

I was taking a pee in the bathroom when I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

It was the dripping that woke her. And the smell.

She locked the door, double-checked the gun was in place and took up position on the bed, drawing the laptop towards her, ready for her next customer.

The fifth and final day of Michael Atkins’ evidence opened in spectacular fashion.

The white room was completely dark when my dad killed my granny.

Another year of my life … wasted.

I was seven years old the first time my uncle poisoned me.

We named the houses they put us in.