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

here with you when he comes in?’
    I shake my head. ‘No, that’s okay.’
    ‘Fine. I’ll go downstairs and tell him. He’s desperate to see you.’
    My heart is hammering. This is it. My life is about to begin.

 
     
    Chapter Five
    DS Wright has been gone for almost an hour now. When she returns, it will be with my boyfriend, Piers. A boyfriend I have no knowledge of. A boyfriend whose face I probably won’t even recognise. And I’m going to meet him very soon, wearing borrowed pyjamas and a dressing gown.
    I’m perched on the end of the bed. The woman opposite is asleep, and I’ve drawn the curtain down one side of my bed to give myself the illusion of privacy. I glance up at the clock on the wall. He should be here any minute. My stomach buzzes with nerves and my body pulses with anticipation. I’m trying to remain calm, but the past few minutes have been unbearable. I should have agreed to meet him straight away, rather than allowing myself the opportunity to descend into a state of anxiety.
    At the sound of footsteps, my stomach swoops, and I peer around the curtain. It’s only one of the nurses. This is ridiculous. I need to calm down. I go and sit on one of the chairs by my bed, grab a magazine from my nightstand, flip it open and try to concentrate on an article about jilted husbands. I don’t take any of it in, but at least I’m not freaking out as much as I was a few minutes ago.
    ‘Mia.’
    A man’s voice. Deep and confident. I look up from my magazine. He’s medium build, blond, tanned. Handsome. Holding a huge bouquet of flowers. DS Wright is standing next to him. ‘Hello, Mia,’ she says. ‘This is Piers. Call me if you need anything.’ Good luck , she mouths behind his back.
    I nod, unable to speak for the moment.
    ‘God, Mia, it really is you.’ His face breaks into a smile. He strides over to me, lays the flowers on the bed, and opens his arms out. But I stay seated and lean back into my chair. He stops. His expression suddenly uncertain, his arms dropping back to his side. ‘Mia? Are you okay? They said you’d lost your memory. But . . . surely you must know who I am.’
    ‘Sorry,’ I say, feeling bad for him. ‘I don’t know you. I don’t even know myself.’
    ‘Shit,’ he says. ‘Sorry. I was sure you’d recognise me.’ His voice is clipped, confident. A voice some would call posh. Posher than my voice, I know that much.
    He’s dressed casually in shorts and a polo-shirt, but his clothes look expensive, his fair hair styled in a perfect French crop. He’s also insanely handsome. Too handsome. Like, maybe he knows it. But I’m probably being unfair.
    ‘Apart from your memory, how are you feeling, babe? Are you hurt at all?’
    Babe? Okay. This is going to take some getting used to. ‘I’m feeling much better now, thanks. It’s been a weird few days.’
    ‘I bet it has. I can’t imagine. I’ve been worried sick, you know.’ He takes a seat next me, and grasps one of my hands in both of his. They’re warm, firm. ‘You really don’t look yourself, Mia. We need to get you home. Get you some pampering.’
    ‘Where do I live?’ I ask, wondering if he and I live together.
    ‘Wow.’ He stares at me for a few seconds, as though searching my face for something. ‘I can’t believe it. You don’t even remember your house.’
    ‘I have a house?’
    ‘Yeah, in Christchurch. You own a townhouse on the river. It’s a pretty nice place. You love it there.’
    Okay, that sounds good. ‘Christchurch? Is that near here? Is it my own place? Or do I share it with . . . anyone?’ I’m too embarrassed to ask if we live together. It seems too intimate a question for someone I’ve only just met.
    ‘It’s all yours, Mia. I do stay over a lot, but you kind of like your own space.’ He rolls his eyes and grins.
    That’s very good news. I’m glad I have my own place. I don’t think I could cope with living with a stranger. Even one as handsome as Piers