Extract Post: Halfway House by Helen Fitzgerald

They’re the housemates from Hell…

When her disastrous Australian love affair ends, Lou O’Dowd heads to Edinburgh for a fresh start, moving in with her cousin, and preparing for the only job she can find … working at a halfway house for very high-risk offenders.

Two killers, a celebrity paedophile and a paranoid coke dealer – all out on parole and all sharing their outwardly elegant Edinburgh townhouse with rookie night-worker Lou…

And instead of finding some meaning and purpose to her life, she finds herself trapped in a terrifying game of cat and mouse where she stands to lose everything – including her life.

Slick, darkly funny and nerve-janglingly tense, Halfway House is both a breath-taking thriller and an unapologetic reminder never to corner a desperate woman…

Extract

CHAPTER FOUR

Becks didn’t need fashion advice anymore. She was almost intimidating. They were going to have the greatest adventures together, be the closest of friends.

‘You stink of booze,’ Becks said.

‘There was a party on the plane.’ Lou was regretting her last three drinks, as well as giving her spare pants to an alcoholic stranger.

‘What are you gonna do when it’s free?’ Becks said. ‘Stomach up, though, you’ve arrived in party town. Follow me – sorry, need to hurry. You should get some sleep. Don’t worry about coming today, come another day.’

Becks was starring in a play that Lou knew nothing about and had no interest in. Another wave of nausea came over her, a memory of something terrible – that she may have promised to come to the play as soon as she got off the plane. It sounded like the kind of promise Lou would make. Theatre, no, no, no, altogether too risky. What had she done, what had she said? She remembered now. She had posted something idiotic on Insta (Can’t wait to see this – soon as I arrive!).

‘You kidding?’ Lou said. ‘I’m coming. I might vomit at you though.

‘Don’t worry, people have been doing way worse than that.’

Becks held the banner in the air all the way past the Georgian townhouses on the grey streets, one of which was Nevis Place, where Lou would be working.

Lou had Google-walked around the city many times – each time she was immersed in a gothic-fantasy video game. She could walk everywhere; see its edges. Man had filled each inch centuries ago; left no space to ruin. It would always look like Edinburgh. Never like Melbourne, never like any other city. In real life, Edinburgh was just as dreamlike; The Land of All That Is Pretty at the top of The Magic Faraway Tree. Did people actually live here – did she? – in this winding world of stones and princesses?

The Airbnb was two streets further down the hill from Nevis Place, so handy. On the way, Becks bumped into four people she knew, exchanging flyers with two of them.

‘Small town,’ Becks said.

Lou’s arms shuddered as the suitcase bounced over cobbles and pavements, weaving past shoppers and coffeegoers, none of whom seemed to notice the purple banner. There were too many other weird signs in the Edinburgh air, too many other mad kangaroos.

‘Home sweet home,’ said Becks. The right-hand side of the cobbled street was lined with stern stone terraces, the left with three-storey Georgian tenement flats, black criss-crosses on the windows. It was sunny but Lou had a confusing shiver that was either euphoria or a

chill from being encased in stone. This was where Lou was going to live – in this ancient, man-made place where there was nothing ugly, not one thing, and where nothing was out of place.

‘Hope you’re fit,’ Becks said, opening the blue arched door leading to the shared stairway. ‘We’re at the top.’

Banner and baggage in hand, Becks bounced up two steps at a time. Lou ambled as she took in the worn flagstones, the tiled walls, the twirling cast-iron banister and the stained-glass skylight. She was Rapunzel heading to her tower.

‘Come on, come in,’ Becks said, opening the door and giving her a quick tour of the flat with its oak floors and ornate ceiling roses.

‘This is you.’ Becks opened the door to the front bedroom. There was a long-haired man lying on one of the twin beds. He had headphones on. ‘This is Cam from Canberra.’

‘Hi Cam.’ His hand was as sticky as Lou feared.

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ABOUT HELEN FITZGERALD

Helen FitzGerald is the bestselling author of thirteen adult and young-adult thrillers, including The Donor (2011) and The Cry (2013), which was longlisted for the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year and adapted for a major BBC drama. Her 2019 dark-comedy thriller Worst Case Scenario was a Book of the Year in the Literary Review, Herald Scotland, Guardian, Sunday Times, The Week and Daily Telegraph, shortlisted for the Theakston’s Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year, and won the CrimeFest Last Laugh Award. The critically acclaimed Ash Mountain (2020) and Keep Her Sweet (2022) soon followed.

Helen worked as a criminal-justice social worker for over fifteen years. She grew up in Victoria, Australia, and now lives in Glasgow with her husband.