The Role Model: A shocking psychological thriller with several twists Daniel Hurst (moboreader txt) 📖

and got me to come and pick you up instead. Say you were too embarrassed to tell her if she pushes you. Blame it on all the drink you’ve had tonight. Whatever. Just make sure Zara knows that you are home in bed.’

‘But what about Rupert? I thought we weren’t going to just leave him.’

‘We’re not. I’m going to come back here after I have dropped you off and dig a hole.’

The blunt description of my plan for the rest of the evening is enough to startle myself, never mind my daughter.

Chloe looks on the verge of tears again as she stares back in the direction of where Rupert’s body lies, but hanging around won’t make things any easier.

‘Come on,’ I say, giving her a tug on the arm and leading her out of the trees.

It’s a relief to be back in the pale moonlight again as we reach the grass and stride across the field towards where my car is parked.

Chloe is walking behind me, not moving as quickly as I would like, but at least she is heading in the right direction, so I decide not to say anything more.

When we reach the car, I make sure to look around the park to ensure that nobody has turned up here since I arrived, but it’s still just as desolate as I had hoped it would be. Once I have got Chloe home, it will just be me in this park as I work to conceal the body, and that would be a spooky thought if it weren’t instantly overridden by the fear of me and my daughter ending up in a police cell if we aren’t careful from this point on.

I get behind the steering wheel and close my door as Chloe takes her seat beside me, and it’s a relief to turn the engine and feel the warm air blowing out of the vents. I drive us out of the car park as Chloe holds her hands to the vents and gets some heat into her freezing fingers, and neither of us says a word to each other until we are almost home.

The silence is eventually broken by my daughter, although I wish it wasn’t when I hear what she has to say.

‘He told me he was going to be an actor,’ Chloe says, staring out of her window as the dark houses at the bottom end of our street roll by. ‘He said he dreamed of living in LA and having a big mansion in the hills where his family and friends could come and visit him.’

I’m not sure what I am supposed to say to that, so I say nothing as we reach our driveway.

‘I think he would have achieved it too. Not just because he had the talent or the looks. But he had the belief too. You know what I mean? Like he was going to make it happen, and there was nothing that was going to get in his way.’

I bring the car to a stop and turn off the engine, conscious that any noise on our street at this time of night might encourage a neighbour to peep through their curtains and see what’s going on. It’s no problem if anybody does see us arriving back home at this time. It fits in with our cover story that I went to pick Chloe up after the party. But I’d still like to be as quiet as possible if I can help it.

‘Come on,’ I say, opening my door and getting out.

Chloe reluctantly follows, and it’s a relief to have her back home again as soon as she is in the hallway and I have closed the front door behind us.

‘Have you sent that text?’ I ask her, but she shakes her head.

‘Give me your phone,’ I say, and she hands it over, which must be the first time I have ever been able to get her mobile from her without there being a massive argument first.

I type out the message and read it through a couple of times before handing the phone back to my daughter before it is sent.

‘That’s what it needs to say. Just edit it so it’s in your words, not mine.’

Chloe does as she is told, and I watch as her fingers move across her phone screen until she is finished.

Retaking the phone again, I re-read it before nodding and finally pressing send.

With that taken care of, that only leaves one thing to do.

‘Now go to bed, and we’ll talk in the morning,’ I instruct my daughter, and Chloe puts up no resistance, turning and slouching up the staircase with her shoulders hunched and her head drooped. She’s going to feel terrible in the morning, in more ways than one. Her hangover will be bad enough, that’s for sure, but she will also have to face up to what she has done. But I will make sure to be by her side as soon as she does wake, ensuring that these next few days are as painless as possible for her.

As I hear Chloe’s footsteps in her bedroom above, I turn to the front door and prepare to go back out into the cold.

‘I’ll be back soon,’ I call upstairs, but I get no response.

Then I open the door and step back outside.

The temperature seems to have dropped another degree or two in the short time since I was last out here, and maybe it has. It’s one in the morning now, and it’s likely to get even colder as the hours go by until the sun eventually rises on this town. All I want to do is get back in my car and get the heaters on, but before I can do that, I have to make a quick detour to the garage.

Opening the door as quietly as possible, I step inside and turn on the light. There is all sorts of rubbish in here, from old cardboard boxes full of Chloe’s childhood toys to old