Sleep. C.L. Taylor
Read on for an extract of Strangers
If you’re reading this then I am no longer alive. Someone has been stalking me for the last three months and, if I am dead, it wasn’t an accident. Tell the police to speak to my ex-boyfriend Alex Carter about what happened in London. That’s where all this started.
The following people came to Rum for a walking tour, arriving on Saturday 2nd June. I am pretty sure one of them killed me.
– Joe Armstrong
– Christine Cuttle
– Fiona Gardiner
– Trevor Morgan
– Malcolm Ward
– Melanie Ward
– Katie Ward
Their bookings and contact details can be found on the laptop in reception and in the medical files in the right-hand drawer of the desk. I have written down everything that’s happened since they arrived (and before) on the attached pieces of paper.
I hope you’re not reading this. I hope it’s screwed up in the bottom of a bin and that I’ve managed to escape. I don’t know what else to say. Please tell my parents that I love them and Alex that I hope he’s okay and that he shouldn’t feel bad about the way things turned out. I wish I’d never come here. I wish I had never agreed to I wish a lot of things. Mostly that I could turn back time.
Anna Willis
Acting Manager, Bay View Hotel, Isle of Rum
P.S. I am so sorry about what happened to David. Please tell his family that he was a wonderful man, full of heart and dry wit, and I was very fond of him. Please reassure them that his passing was very quick and he didn’t suffer.
THREE MONTHS EARLIER
Sunday 25th February
The mood in the car couldn’t be more different than it was on Friday. On the way to the Brecon Beacons I couldn’t hear the radio above the chatter and laughter. The team groaned when I told them we’d be spending a weekend in February on a team-building retreat, but most of them rallied once they got in the car. Now, on the way back to London, they’re subdued – physically and mentally exhausted