The Girl from the Sea: A gripping psychological thriller Read Online Free Page A

or in danger of an infection in my lungs. Apparently, I’m now perfectly healthy. She says I should be fine. Fine? How can I be fine when I still don’t even know who I am? I should have the results back from my MRI within a few days. Perhaps that will shed some light on what’s happening in my brain.
    The police haven’t been back for a visit, so maybe their lead was a dead-end. Maybe the real “Mia James” has been found safe and well, reunited with a loving family. Or maybe she’s still missing. I sigh, set aside the magazine and lie down. I roll over onto my side and stare out of the window at the brick wall, and at the flowers wilting in the heat. A gull lands on top of the wall. He fixes his eye on me and I stare back. He’s big. He looks confident and sure of himself. He has no name, but he knows who he is. He knows his place in the world.
    ‘Hello.’
    I start at the words. Someone is here. The gull tilts his head and swoops away. I turn and sit up. It’s D.S. Emma Wright
    ‘Hello,’ she repeats.
    ‘Hi,’ I say.
    She smiles. It’s a genuine, warm smile, not a fake, polite one. It’s nice to connect with someone. Even a semi-stranger.
    ‘Mind if I . . .’ She points to one of the plastic chairs next to my bed.
    ‘Sure, go ahead.’
    She sits down, hanging her black handbag on the back of the chair. ‘I spoke to the charge nurse. She said you were well enough for us to have another chat. You feeling better?’
    I nod. ‘Still have no memory of who I am, though.’
    ‘Sorry to hear that,’ she says. ‘We may assign you a family liaison officer – someone who’ll be your point of contact with the police from now on, who’ll keep you updated on any new developments in our investigation. But, in the meantime, anything you need, any worries, new memories, issues etc. Feel free to contact me. Here, I’ll give you my card.’
    ‘Oh, okay, thanks,’ I say. I don’t even have a phone or any money, so how on earth would I be able to contact her. She fishes around in her handbag, and finally passes me a white business card.
    ‘There’s a freephone number on there you can use,’ she says.
    I thank her and place the card on my side table.
    ‘Do you remember me telling you on Monday that someone came forward to identify you?’ she says.
    I nod. I’ve thought of little else over the past couple of days. I realise I’m holding my breath.
    ‘We’ve run some background checks, and we believe the gentleman in question has positively identified you.’
    I digest her words. ‘So . . . am I . . . Mia James?’
    ‘Yes.’
    I stretch my fingers out and take a deep breath. I feel the need to stand up. I slide off the bed and stand by the window, running my hands through my hair.
    ‘You okay?’ she asks.
    I look across at her. ‘Just taking it in.’
    ‘I understand. It must be strange to finally find out who you are.’
    ‘Who’s the man?’ I ask. ‘The one who reported me missing.’ I wonder could he be my father? Brother? Husband?
    ‘His name is Mr Piers Bevan-Price. He’s actually your boyfriend.’
    ‘I have a boyfriend?’
    ‘You do.’ She smiles. ‘We’ve done background checks on him, interviewed him. Cross-checked his statement with friends, your GP, your old place of work. It all checks out. You don’t need to worry.’
    ‘Okay. Thank you.’
    ‘Would you like to see him? He’s here, if you want to.’
    A flicker of panic darts across my chest.
    ‘But there’s no pressure,’ she continues. ‘If you’re not ready to meet him, we can ask him to give you more time. He’s happy to wait until you’re ready.’
    That’s a relief to hear. I can’t deny how terrified I am to meet him. But isn’t this what I’ve been waiting for? I can’t chicken out of this. Maybe seeing him will help me get my memory back. ‘I do want to meet him,’ I say. ‘But can you give me an hour or so? I need to . . . compose myself.’
    ‘Of course,’ she says. ‘Would you like me to be