My Mother, The Liar. Ann Troup. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Ann Troup
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Ужасы и Мистика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008181215
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       Every family has its secrets…

      Two dead bodies. A lifetime of secrets.

      When Rachel Porter’s estranged mother dies, she returns to her family home filled with dread about having to face her past, and the people who populated it.

      Little does she know that there are dead bodies waiting to be discovered, and a lifetime of secrets are about to unravel.

       Secrets kept by her mother, the liar.

       Also by Ann Troup

       The Lost Child

       The Silent Girls

       The Forgotten Room

       My Mother, The Liar

      Ann Troup

      ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

      Contents

       Cover

       Blurb

       Also By

       Title Page

       Author Bio

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Chapter 26

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Chapter 29

       Chapter 30

       Chapter 31

       Chapter 32

       Chapter 33

       Chapter 34

       Chapter 35

       Chapter 36

       Chapter 37

       Chapter 38

       Chapter 39

       Endpages

       Copyright

       ANN TROUP

      Lives by the sea in Devon with her husband and dog. Two children have been known to remember the house, which they call home, but mainly when they are in need of a decent roast dinner, it’s Christmas or when only Mum will do. In a former incarnation she was a psychiatric nurse, an experience that frequently informs her writing and which supplies a never-ending source of inspiration. You can contact Ann on Facebook or at anntroup.wordpress.com

      As always it’s the readers and reviewers who make it all worthwhile so my thanks go to them first. I won’t name names, the list would be longer than the book and you know who you are.

      Gratitude to Charlotte Mursell and Nia Beynon at HQ for some awesome author wrangling and telling me I’m a pleasure to work with and (almost) making me believe it.

      Last but not least, to the usual suspects for all the virtual gin and hugs!

      To Julia, Lesley and Sue — sisters of the less psychotic kind…

      Rachel’s mother had been fond of blanket statements that set others indelibly in their places. Proud of her insights into the characters of others, she had set out her children’s traits like a script. As if they were pickles in jars, all three of her daughters had been permanently labelled and preserved by her assertions. Frances was the clever one, Stella was useless, and Rachel was just downright difficult.

      Did all parents like to define their offspring, leaving their children floundering and typecast? Rachel felt imperfectly moulded by her family, an inconvenient, bit-part player in the sometimes drama that had been her life. It had made her bitter.

      Now her mother was dead. Valerie was no more and Rachel wasn’t feeling much of anything except antipathy.

      She would have known about Valerie’s death weeks before, but she’d quietly ignored the first letter from Frances, knowing that it couldn’t contain good news. The Porters didn’t trade in good news. The slanting, deeply etched handwriting on the envelope had said enough: Frances could ooze anger even when writing a simple address. She’d