The Lies She Told: A wickedly twisted psychological thriller that you cannot put down! by Paula Johnston

Author:Paula Johnston [Johnston, Paula]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Five weeks earlier

Hannah Trainer likes your post. That’s odd. Do I know a Hannah Trainer? I pop another piece of milky chocolate into my mouth and click the view profile button. A pretty girl with fiery red hair and skin as pale as the moon stares back at me from her profile picture. I study her for a few moments, trying to place her, but I don’t think I recognise her. I scroll through her news feed hoping that her face will come back to me, and that it will make sense as to how she has found her way on to my page, but more importantly, why she’s been so deep in my profile that she’s liked one of my posts from three months ago.

Maybe there is something familiar about her. She has bright wide oval shaped eyes and her hair is very pretty; not long, but not quite a bob either. Maybe she’s visited the salon recently and has decided to check out its owner. Some people do that don't they? They want to find out who is behind the brand. She might even just be looking to leave a good review about myself or one of my stylists, but it’s still a bit strange that she hasn’t used the salon's own Facebook page. I groan in realisation. Maybe she’s looking to complain instead and is bypassing the middleman by seeking me out privately, going straight to the organ grinder and all that shit. But there is no bad review, and I don't have any mails from her so in the end I decide that I am wasting my time looking for something that isn't there. Not one post of abuse on her own timeline about my salon and there’s nothing particularly special or significant about the rest of her posts.

About to put my phone back down and continue binge watching my favourite trashy reality TV show, I catch sight of her location at the top of her page: Glasgow, United Kingdom. Glasgow, as in Scotland? That’s a bit far to come for a haircut isn’t it? So, she can't be a client then. How else has she stumbled upon my profile? I try to pull something from my brain, repeating the city over and over again. Glasgow, Glasgow, Glasgow. It’s no use, I don’t know anyone from Scotland. The use of the word Scotland however stirs a familiar heavy knot in my stomach, and I sit upright on my sofa as my insides begin to churn. I wish I hadn't scoffed so much chocolate now.

I click on her uploaded photos and swipe quickly through her pictures, desperately hoping that I don’t find what I think I just might. I don’t recognise her – that's a definite, but I’m worried that someone else is lurking in the shadows behind the profile of Hannah Trainer.

It only takes seven swipes for my worst possible fear to be confirmed. Standing in what appears to be someone’s back garden; a freshly lit barbeque smoking in the background, I see you instantly.

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