If They Knew: The latest crime thriller book you must read in 2018. Joanne Sefton

protocols to follow and endless charts to be checked off and stuffed back into their clipboards.

      ‘She was bringing up blood, Helen.’ Neil’s voice was low, and he looked at the floor rather than her. ‘Not just a bit – it was just gushing out of her. Coming from her nose as well, even one of her ears at one point.’

      Helen thought back to the stains she’d seen on the bed. How awful.

      She just couldn’t understand it. There had been no suggestion of any cancer in Barbara’s digestive system. No one had mentioned any side effects or surgical complications that could look like this. And it had all seemed to be going so smoothly, completely ‘by the book’, as they’d all been saying yesterday. She didn’t know what to say to Neil. She was the one who had read all the leaflets, gone online; she was the one who was meant to know what to expect, and nothing had – nothing could have – prepared her for this.

      There was a niggling voice in her head that said maybe there was a reason for that. Could it be that this was something more sinister than a symptom or a side effect? Jennifer, whoever she was, had promised to make Barbara suffer. And Helen doubted she’d suffered anything in her life like the last few hours. What if the notes weren’t just empty threats? What if this time Jennifer meant it for real? Helen felt giddy. Was she putting two and two together and getting eleven? Or should she listen to the instinct screaming at her that this was anything but an accident?

      She reached out for Neil’s hand, and he let her take it, though his eyes remained fixed on the tight brown weave of the carpet tiles.

       May 1990

       Helen

      Spike Island wasn’t actually an island. It was a bit of land jutting out into the Mersey estuary, with the St Helen’s canal slicing down one side and a great view of a power station. Helen’s heart thrilled with anticipation for the gig. The thing about Stone Roses songs was that they were totally different to any other music she’d ever heard. The guitar riffs didn’t play in her ears, they flowed through her veins.