No Place Like Home: A psychological thriller with an incredible twist by Jane Renshaw

Author:Jane Renshaw [Renshaw, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inkubator Books
Published: 2021-04-17T16:00:00+00:00

15

‘It was like some mad fairground ride!’ Max enthused, sitting at the table grinning up at Bram as Amy dabbed antiseptic onto the cut on his face. ‘One minute we’re tootling along and the next – bam! We’re up in the air!’

‘You’re certainly having a real run of bad luck,’ said Amy, getting up from the table to wash her hands in the water Kirsty had boiled. She was glamorous as ever in a navy silk shirt and white Capris. ‘Although I guess you could say it was good luck that neither of you was badly hurt. You’re going to have quite a black eye, though, Max.’

Bram and Max had decided to pass off Max’s injuries as having occurred during the accident. Their story was that he’d hit his face on the dashboard.

‘We can check the scene of the accident tomorrow in daylight,’ said Scott, handing his wife a towel. ‘But I doubt there’s foul play involved.’

‘I suppose that bridge must be at least a hundred years old,’ said Bram. ‘And the Discovery is a big heavy vehicle.’

Part of the bridge had collapsed, taking the back of the Discovery with it, but as it was just a little bridge across a stream, the drop had only been four feet or so. Max hadn’t been able to open his door as the Discovery had listed slightly onto that side, but he had scrambled across to the driver’s door and they’d both got out that way.

They were slightly bruised from their seat belts, but otherwise unharmed.

Bram’s first thought had been that whoever was terrorising them had done this, but he realised now that that was unlikely. Kirsty’s panicked phone call to Scott and Amy had been unnecessary, and he felt bad about dragging them out this late at night. They’d had to park on the other side of the bridge and ford the stream, although Amy had made light of this, saying she’d felt like a kid again, getting a piggy-back ride on Scott’s back.

Kirsty was banging about the kitchen putting away the contents of the dishwasher, not saying much, but Bram knew what she was thinking. Why hadn’t he checked that bridge? In their division of labour as a couple, anything home-related was Bram’s remit.

‘Your seat belt must have worked,’ Amy was saying to Max, examining the bruise across his chest. ‘So how come you hit your face off the dashboard?’

Damn.

Max grinned. ‘Well…’ And he exchanged a look with Bram, who grimaced and nodded to signal he should come clean. ‘That’s not exactly what happened.’

Kirsty whipped round.

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