Read Online Now You See Me by Emma Haughton - Free Book Online Page A

the space around the frame.
    I pushed one through the door of the bookshop, another in the place that sells vitamins and health foods. When I straightened up, I saw a group in the distance. As they got closer, I recognized Maisy and Vicky and a couple of other girls from my year. They stopped and looked at the poster I’d stuck up by the library, four heads cocked at the same angle as they read the text under Danny’s photo. Then stood for a minute, talking, before heading up the street towards me.
    Vicky spotted me first. I saw her tug on Maisy’s arm as they approached, mumbling something I didn’t catch. My cheeks flared. All at once I felt stupidly embarrassed. Like I’d been caught shoplifting, or found naked, wandering the streets.
    As they drew level, Maisy tossed me an awkward smile. “How’s it going?” She nodded at the bag of posters and envelopes in my hand.
    â€œFine,” I said.
    She hesitated for a moment. “Do you want a hand?”
    I shook my head. “It’s fine, honestly. I’m nearly done.”
    â€œOh, okay.” Something like relief flashed across her face.
    Vicky smiled fleetingly. “Sorry, Hannah,” she said, then to Maisy: “We’ve got to go. Sophie’s waiting for us.”
    I watched them disappear along the side street that led to the Co-op. Saw Maisy turn round and give me a small wave and a glance of something – pity? encouragement? – then quicken her pace to catch up with the others. As they passed Martha by the card shop, they all turned to stare, Vicky actually walking backwards a few paces, not bothering to hide her curiosity.
    Not that Martha noticed. She was oblivious, working with a speed and fervour that made me dizzy. Ever since they dragged the boating lake a few days ago, her search to find her son had been relentless.
    I glanced at the picture of Danny in my hand. Please come back, I thought. Before it’s too late. Before our lives fall apart completely.
    But Danny just beamed back at me. I folded his face in half and stuffed it into an envelope, posting it through the door of the hardware store. Worked my way up towards the end of the high street.
    Last but one was a charity shop, with a letter box right at the bottom of the door. I bent down, struggling with the stiff flap. Managed to prise it open, but it snapped shut before I could push the envelope through, nearly trapping my fingers. I tried again. Succeeded.
    As I straightened up, I saw it.
    I stood there, rigid, staring at the £9.50 price tag pinned to the sleeve, unable to move or turn away or even breathe.
    My mother’s dress. The purple crushed silk gown she wore whenever she was going somewhere special. The one that made her look like she lived a whole other kind of life.
    My heart nearly stopped. What was it doing here?
    Slowly I realized, remembering Dad clearing out all her things only days after she died. I assumed he’d given them to people, to friends. But he must have brought them here. Or someone else had. After all, who wants a dead woman’s clothes?
    I couldn’t tear my eyes from the dress. It was like she was back. Could almost see her smiling, smell her perfume as she bent forwards to kiss the top of my head.
    â€œLove you, Hanny. Be good, won’t you?”
    It was what she said every time she went out. And her last words to me, an hour before they pulled her car out of the river.
    Twenty minutes too late.
    Suddenly I felt sick. My legs were shaky and I wanted to sink down onto the pavement and rest the side of my head against the window, to close my eyes and go to sleep.
    Mum. I miss you so much.
    I felt an arm gently fold itself round my shoulder and give it a squeeze.
    â€œCome on, sweetheart.” Martha’s voice was soft and gentle as she pulled me away. “I think we’ve done enough for one night.”
    I could tell she’d seen it too. And I knew that tomorrow it would be