Alexandra Harrington - The Last Time I Saw Her

Copyright 2021, Alexandra Harrington

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission from the publisher, or, in the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, permission from Access Copyright, 1 Yonge Street, Suite 1900, Toronto, Ontario M5E 1E5.

Nimbus Publishing Limited
3660 Strawberry Hill St, Halifax, NS, B3K 5A9
(902) 455-4286 www.nimbus.ca

Printed and bound in Canada

NB1476

This story is a work of fiction. Names characters, incidents, and places, including organizations and institutions, either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover Design: Heather Bryan
Interior Design: Jenn Embree
Editor: Emily MacKinnon

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Title: The last time I saw her : a novel / Alexandra Harrington.
Names: Harrington, Alexandra, 1995- author.
Identifiers: Canadiana (print) 20200386654 | Canadiana (ebook) 20200386700 | ISBN 9781771089364 (softcover) | ISBN 9781771089876 (EPUB)
Classification: LCC PS8615.A74715 L37 2021 | DDC jC813/.6dc23

Nimbus Publishing acknowledges the financial support for its publishing activities from the Government of Canada, the Canada Council for the Arts, and from the Province of Nova Scotia. We are pleased to work in partnership with the Province of Nova Scotia to develop and promote our creative industries for the benefit of all Nova Scotians.

The Last Time I Saw Her has a rocky homecoming, a shattered friendship, and a series of shocking secrets that will have readers racing to the end, guessing all the way. In her sharp and satisfying debut, Alexandra Harrington skillfully weaves a series of unexpected twists into an authentic small-town Nova Scotia setting, while leaving plenty of space for romance.

Tom Ryan, Arthur Ellis Awardwinning author of Keep This To Yourself

A slow-burn mystery, a vivid cast of compelling and conflicted characters, and a small Nova Scotian town full of secrets add up to a page-turner readers will not be able to put down.

Jo Treggiari, bestselling, Governor Generals Awardnominated author of The Grey Sisters

A twisty-turny thriller built around love, friendship, tragedy, and some wonderfully snappy dialogue. [An] impressive debut!

Vicki Grant, author of Tell Me When You Feel Something

Chock-full of secrets and betrayals and tragic consequences, Alexandra Harringtons debut novel is a finely tuned family drama with multiple layers of mystery.

Atlantic Books Today

july
ten months after

It was hot for June. Well, July, Charlotte corrected herself, the word rolling out of her head slow and thick. June had burned itself out quietly, almost like smoke slipping away, and shed been occupied with things other than the days of the week. Charlotte went mostly by the numbers. Prom was six days ago; graduation, four. Everyone had to be completely moved out of housing as of one day ago.

Charlotte pressed the heel of her hand to the top of her cheekbone, trying to wipe away a streak of sweat without smudging whatever pitiful bits were left of her makeup. Here, the summer air usually pulled back and forth the same way the tide did. Living beside the sea usually meant a crisp, salty breeze that shimmered between layers of sunshine. But tonight it was humid and the air was heavyhoney instead of salt. Fitting, Charlotte thought. Today was Sophie Thompsons eighteenth birthday.

It was hot for July. She was home, but Charlotte Romer was scared. She figured her fear leaned more toward dread, probably, if she were thinking straight and had the time to sort her feelings into boxes. Dread usually popped up when you were waiting for it. Dread was when you knew you deserved it.

She pulled herself up the narrow walkway of the Thompsons bungalow for what was probably the millionth time in her life. Mornings before school, sunny Saturday afternoons, sneaking back under blooming darkness three minutes short of curfew: it was a familiar path. But this was the first time Charlotte felt like she shouldnt be there.

Charlotte stopped at the steps of the porch, her suitcase bumping her behind the knees like it was trying to be encouraging. Pull yourself together. Charlotte looked at the house and prayed Sophie wasnt home.

Charlotte knew, though, that this was highly unlikely, considering shed been able to hear the party sounds from halfway down the road. She flicked her phone awake. It was late. Shed missed the earlier bus, and the only other one to the North Shore had been running late. So not only was Charlotte Romer crashing Sophie Thompsons birthday party, she was also way more than fashionably behind schedule.

River John buzzed around her, like it always did. A combination of lazy summer bugs, the easy swell of an ocean that was never too far, and the worn-out power lines overhead. It was a familiar heartbeat, and she had missed it. Looking back down the road, she saw the tail lights from the bus had long since disappeared.

No retreat. Surrender only.

Charlotte steadied herself and pulled her suitcase up the steps behind her. Get it over with. She tucked her luggage in a corner of the porch beside a dilapidated green swing and smoothed down the front of her wrinkled dress. Her frenzied quick-change in the tiny bus bathroom had left her looking a bit dishevelled. She had forced herself into the bathroom and into her dress, knowing if she went home first to change, shed never gather the courage to leave again. Ever.

Deep breaths.

Like an omenshe wasnt sure whether good or badthe window to the right of the front door flew open. Charlottes knowledge of the bungalows floor plan told her it was the bathroom window. Robert Ross, of North Colchester High basketball fame, stuck his head out of the opening and promptly vomited into the flowerbed. There was a chorus of groans from the bathroom and Robert was dragged back inside.

If Charlotte had been waiting for a sign, she figured this was probably it. She pushed open the unlocked door and stepped inside, feeling the familiar surroundings shudder into place. A year ago she would have been one of the vital, working parts of Sophies birthday party, but shed been there for thirty seconds and already felt like shed triggered a burglar alarm. Charlotte immediately decided that showing up here uninvited was probably one of her worst ideas this year. Certainly in the top three. Unexpectedly leaving town without a word to anyone was definitely up there, too. Followed closely by turning up again now, a year later.

Dave Mackenzie, from her eleventh grade history class, was the first to spot her. Charlotte could feel the heat creeping up her neck. Without taking his eyes off her, Dave Mackenzie inched sideways and jabbed at Mitchell MacKenzie (no relation: capital K MacKenzie), who was playing DJ. All the kids in River John pretty much grew up together, because families didnt really move to the North Shore of Nova Scotia from anywhere else; they just grew there from the start. (The tiny town was generational and the longer your last name had been kicking around, the better.) Mitchell MacKenzie yanked the AUX cord out of his iPhone and looked around.