Category: Novels

From Whom No Secrets are Hidden

The cold November deluge hit Adam in the face as soon as he came out of the courtroom. Usually he would have checked the weather forecast well in advance and taken appropriate measures. But today he hadn’t and today he didn’t mind. He stood quite still for a moment, feeling the rain soak through his hair, then his jacket, and then down his back, as if ritually cleansing himself from the first day of the trial.

Adam had always accepted it was part of his job to attend court and in the normal course of events it was a task he undertook with reasonable equilibrium. But this trial was different for all kinds of reasons, and Adam knew just how much he was personally invested in the outcome.

The accused had sat quite still behind the perspex screen all day, with barely a flicker of emotion, not even when the mother of the victim broke down while the evidence was presented in full forensic detail. He remained steadfastly unmoved, his head slightly bowed, his keen blue eyes focused resolutely on some point a little way ahead of him. Only at the very end of the proceedings did he turn and face Adam directly, as if issuing some kind of challenge. Was that a smirk behind his face mask? Or a sardonic smile? It was hard to tell. All Adam knew was that the old man in him wanted to rip that mask off and punch him hard, while the new man whispered something about the fruit of the Spirit being self-control.

Conscious of how wet and cold he was, Adam found shelter in a nearby coffee shop. Later he would go out to his sister Sally in Harold Hill, but right at this moment the bustle of a chaotic family life was the last thing he needed. He ordered a double shot espresso and checked his messages. He ignored nearly every one of them until he found the one he wanted to read, from his fiancée Sadie. They had planned to marry back in June but coronavirus had disrupted their plans, as for so many others, and Adam missed her terribly. Still, he had spent much of the last few years waiting for her and he reasoned that sooner or later the waiting had to be over.

So, taking a sip of his espresso, and checking he really was on his own, Adam clicked on her email and began to read…

To find out more, click on the novels tab…

Where it begins…

“So you kept a diary as well?”

Everyone, I reckon, has a box of childhood memories somewhere. It could be under the bed, or at the back of the wardrobe, or stuffed into a drawer somewhere. We don’t exactly want to get rid of it, but we don’t want to show it to anyone, either. So we hang on to it, until we finally decide either it’s going out or we’re going to show it to our nearest and dearest.

My husband found my diaries when we were unpacking into the first house we had just bought together. It was right there, among my memories of Mum, and my school photos, and all the other bits pieces at the bottom of the crate. He stood there embarrassed, not quite sure whether he should open them or not. I said nothing, but dived in amid his trophies and medals, and all the stuff to do with his Dad and Gran, and sure enough, there they were, carefully preserved – and yet unseen since the day they were written.

So for the next few hours we ignored the chaos all around us, and curled up in each other’s arms, we shared memories, and laughter, and not a few tears.

“Your spelling was atrocious,” I said.

“Your handwriting was terrible,” he replied.

But we both found the words powerful, and we sat there transported to a very different time when so much happened, when it turned out that, one way or another the direction of our lives was set – even if we didn’t realise it at the time.

To find out more about the Drumchester Diaries, visit the “Novels” page.