Fearnley Fiction

Buy Here The random encounter with the stranger in the cemetery kept popping into my head over the next few days, and I cringed every single time I remembered how I’d behaved. Of course I would apologise if our paths ever crossed again, but I really hoped they didn’t. It felt weird knowing that a total stranger was the sole keeper of a secret I hadn’t yet shared with either my family or friends. My hands stilled their work sorting out the early morning delivery of blooms from the nursery. The baby Tim and I had hoped for felt so close, all I had to do was reach out and pull it towards me. We had one last chance to make our dream a reality. Deciding to go ahead with the IVF by myself was both terrifying and exhilarating. A baby. A tiny human who would be half Tim, and half me. It was a tangible way for him to live on in my life, in more than just my heart and memories. I pulled up the tall stool at my workbench and sank shakily onto it. It was a huge decision, a life-changing de...

Buy Here PROLOGUE Oxford, England. 1st April 1961. It was a lovely Saturday morning, and less than three miles away as the crow flies from the city of dreaming spires, someone was contemplating how ironical it was that it should be April Fool’s Day. The daffodils were just beginning to bud in the small woods surrounding Briar’s Hall. Birds were busy building their nests, and a weak and watery sun was promising that spring really was on its way. But the person leaning against a still-bare ash tree, moodily observing the fine Georgian building below, cared little for the promise of bluebells to come. That person was thinking of only one thing: death, and how best to bring it about. Perhaps, not surprisingly, that person was feeling not at all happy. Not only was death on its own something that you would never consider in detail unless given absolutely no choice, contemplating cold-blooded murder was even more unpleasant. Not least, of course, ...

Buy Here Prologue Beaman and Tanner’s Christmas Party –  Seven Years Ago Jessica Ridley tilted back her head to watch the illuminated number above the door of the lift as it scrolled past floor after  floor on its way to the penthouse level ofthe luxury hotel over-looking the London Embankment. Beaman and Tanner, the events and PR firm she’d been working for since graduating that May, had hired the entertainment space for their staff Christmas party.  With access to the roof terrace above the penthouse included, it promised to be one of the best spots in town to take in a spec- tacular view of the London Eye all lit up for Christmas later in the evening.If she could still see at that point. She pressed a fingertip to the corner of her eye, barely resisting the urge to rub, and cursed her decision to wear the contact lenses she’d been talked into trying by her mother. The lift dinged to announce her arrival, and the discomfort of her new lenses was...