Blog Tour- In The Wake - 3/7/18
Blog Tour - #LoveBookGroupTours
Book info:
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2HxxLay
Foyles: http://bit.ly/2HBMnSd
Waterstones: http://bit.ly/2JyVZOa
The body had been waiting there for Kay Christie. Loosely wrapped in slimy black plastic it had lain flaccid, puddling the dockside before police covered it with a white tent. It was the most exciting event ever to have happened at London’s Excel Centre.
It had all started early that morning at what time? Kay supposed five o’clock. She had been lying in bed dreaming about owning a soft black dog. She heard the shrill ring and searched frantically for her phone in the dark, well used to bad news coming either early or late.
Simon Bell, Excel’s Marketing Director and Kay’s biggest client had hauled her in to deal with the press while they figured out what was going to happen with the boat show. Kay had sent ahead her deputy and right-hand woman, Jacquie McCoy. She lived closer and would get there quicker. But when Kay arrived at the back stairs of Excel, Jacquie was there with swollen red eyes and black mascara seeping down her cheekbones.
“You’re doing great Jacqs, you really are,” Kay said while rubbing her back, wanting to encourage and comfort. Kay was like a mother to her team even though Kay and Jacquie were the same age.
“I don’t think I am.” Jacquie sniffed.
They went up to the press office, S17, which looked out directly over the Royal Albert Dock. Across the river Thames, the Millennium Dome loomed like an albino turtle in traction. Excel’s central hall had been eerie. A cleaner’s trolley had lain abandoned and a black plastic refuse bag tied to its handle ballooned in an invisible breeze. It smelled of cleaning fluid and delicious ship diesel.
This was where it started to get weird.
The door of S17 crashed open and there stood Simon Bell. He had arrived in his cycling shorts. Couldn’t he have just pulled on a pair of jeans? The world didn’t have his size; everything he wore was either too big or too tight.
Outside, an ambulance had pulled up on the pontoon and it cast a flickering blue light across the back wall of S17. Simon had got up to look and while he stood at the window, he had bent a knee to rearrange himself using his finger and thumb.
“It’s a bit late for that!” he shouted at the ambulance. Then on the way back to his seat, seeing Jacquie’s upset, he had inappropriately rubbed her back too. His thumb had lingered on Jacquie’s neck a second too long.
Being an external agency meant that sometimes you or a member of your team got felt up by a client. A loophole where there was no real comeback. It was eight o’clock by then so Kay had dialled in to the secure crisis conference line as planned and the automated call system requested their names.
“Simon, Kay, Jacquie,” Kay said, then there was a long beep followed by a burst of classical music. Kay dreamt away for a moment trying to place it, but she knew nothing about classical music. Common as muck really underneath her business suit. Click. The CEO and the Operations Director had clunked into the call. Kay heard the engine of the ambulance power down outside.
“Your dad wasn’t working Kay,” the Operations Manager reassured her. Kay had wangled a job for her father on the perimeter security gate checking car passes.
He sat there day after day reading the newspaper and listening to sport on a crackling radio.
“Oh, thank God, I was worried and he’s not answering his phone,” Kay said, but she knew he was probably still drunk. If he wasn’t working, he wouldn’t get up until lunchtime. As it turned out, it was the new security guard who had found the body on only his third day of employment. He had done a last sweep just after three o’clock and saw a black arc in the water and knew straight away it wasn’t right.
“Jesus Christ,” Simon said, his lip curling back. Jacquie held her hand up over her mouth, flashing her neat and efficient engagement ring. The level of melodrama was extreme. To be fair they were marketing people and not adept at dealing with dead bodies but still. “He won’t be back. I tell you. He’ll be claiming psychological disability benefit from us for the next 50 years. I wish I’d bloody found the body!”
There had been discussion about the tide and the weather. As the Operations Director talked about the overnight storm, a gust of wind had lashed the window and they had all pulled away. A banshee-like whistle of wind swooshed its clawed wings around the building.
It was mundane and boring doing the PR for Excel, as you might expect, but such was the size of the site that now and again, things did get washed up or crimes committed. Never anything of this magnitude.
The CEO had charged Simon with telephoning the owners of Excel, the office of Qatari businessman Abdul Bin Harashi, for damage limitation. There was an immediate need to explain, because after all, the body had been found trussed up underneath their luxury boat, The Lusciousness.
Kay had a persistent negative feeling in her gut that using The Lusciousness as the face of the boat show might have been a bad idea.
This was about to be proved right.
A white tent had been put up outside on the southern embankment, and it was here that the ambulance was parked. Kay had assumed that the body must be inside that tent. A floating pontoon had been erected temporarily for the boat show and The Lusciousness was moored to it. Blue and white police tape extended from the tent and cordoned off access to the pontoon.
At least there was a dog. A cute – and only a real dog lover would ever call one cute – Alsatian had been led around sniffing at a pile of rope and ten or so crates which had been piled up. A diver’s head had popped up in the blue-black water between The Lusciousness and the pontoon. The water looked like poured ink.
It was dizzying. No wonder Jacquie was crying. It was a million miles away from sending out a press release about The Lusciousness being the World’s Most Expensive Boat.
“Christ Jacquie, this is –” Kay had begun to say, but she stopped short. The wind had picked up and rattled the glass again. The side of the tent had been sucked completely insideout revealing solidly planted feet. It must have been the forensic team examining the body. Kay had watched, eyes glued to the tent like a motorway rubbernecker.
The wind had come again, angrier than before, turning the inky water into white tipped wisps. In an instant, it hoisted up the tent, threw it over, and flung it onto its side where it bounced against the side of the ambulance. White gloved hands had reached out frantically from inside to grab it back. Three police officers had sprinted over to secure it.
But it was too late. Kay had seen the body.
Bloated yes, swollen certainly, but the face with a black curl of hair pressed tightly to the fleshy forehead was clear. A dilute orange froth formed around the mouth, but the face was plain to see. The eyes were fixed open. Kay had gasped.
Her knees had buckled. A high-pitched tone had started up in her ears. She collapsed down into a chair, suddenly burning hot and sweating. Good old Jacquie stood up and ran over.
“Are you alright, Kay?”
Kay shook her head, pulling at the neckline of her shirt and had waved Jacquie away.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.”
But Kay was not fine. A vein in her temple was twitching violently.
The dead body in the water.
Kay recognised the face.
She knew him.
Confidential : For reactive Issue only
Sunday 7th January 2018
Position Statement:
A discovery was made this morning at the royal Albert Dock. we are working closely with the relevant authorities to establish the facts of the situation and provide any assistance required.
Simon Bell, Director, excel Conference and exhibition Centre said, “the safety of our guests and exhibitors is extremely important to us. As soon as the discovery came to light, we acted promptly in assisting the relevant authorities. we have currently suspended all activity on site.”
For further information please contact Kay Christie or Jacquie McCoy at
Christie Dean Pr on
0794 400 4000 or email jacquie@christiedeanpr.co.uk
Twitter: https://twitter.com/helentrevorrow
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/helen_trevorrow/
In The Wake
by Helen Trevorrow
On my blog today I have the pleasure of sharing with you.....
In The Wake
I would like to thank Kelly at Love Book Group Tours and Helen Trevorrow for inviting me on the blog tour.
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Book Information
“Deliciously dark and beautifully written, In The Wake offers a thrilling debut from a writer to watch.” - Dan Dalton, author of Johnny Ruin
When a body is found floating in London's Royal Albert Dock, successful public relations expert Kay Christie is sent to quiet the media, but things get complicated when it emerges that she knew the victim.
As events spiral out of control, Kay discovers that those close to her may be harbouring another secret - the story of a missing girl. Can Kay discover the truth before her life unravels and she risks losing everything?
In the Wake questions whether we can ever truly leave our pasts behind and explores the lengths that we will go to protect the people that we love.
Book info:
Publication Day: 28th June 2018
Publisher: Urbane Publications
ISBN: 978- 1911583837
Pages: 320
Category: Fiction, Genre: Women’s Fiction / Psychological Thriller
Publisher: Urbane Publications
ISBN: 978- 1911583837
Pages: 320
Category: Fiction, Genre: Women’s Fiction / Psychological Thriller
Buying links:
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2r68f1aAmazon US: https://amzn.to/2HxxLay
Foyles: http://bit.ly/2HBMnSd
Waterstones: http://bit.ly/2JyVZOa
💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕
Excerpt
Chapter One
The body had been waiting there for Kay Christie. Loosely wrapped in slimy black plastic it had lain flaccid, puddling the dockside before police covered it with a white tent. It was the most exciting event ever to have happened at London’s Excel Centre.
It had all started early that morning at what time? Kay supposed five o’clock. She had been lying in bed dreaming about owning a soft black dog. She heard the shrill ring and searched frantically for her phone in the dark, well used to bad news coming either early or late.
Simon Bell, Excel’s Marketing Director and Kay’s biggest client had hauled her in to deal with the press while they figured out what was going to happen with the boat show. Kay had sent ahead her deputy and right-hand woman, Jacquie McCoy. She lived closer and would get there quicker. But when Kay arrived at the back stairs of Excel, Jacquie was there with swollen red eyes and black mascara seeping down her cheekbones.
“You’re doing great Jacqs, you really are,” Kay said while rubbing her back, wanting to encourage and comfort. Kay was like a mother to her team even though Kay and Jacquie were the same age.
“I don’t think I am.” Jacquie sniffed.
They went up to the press office, S17, which looked out directly over the Royal Albert Dock. Across the river Thames, the Millennium Dome loomed like an albino turtle in traction. Excel’s central hall had been eerie. A cleaner’s trolley had lain abandoned and a black plastic refuse bag tied to its handle ballooned in an invisible breeze. It smelled of cleaning fluid and delicious ship diesel.
This was where it started to get weird.
The door of S17 crashed open and there stood Simon Bell. He had arrived in his cycling shorts. Couldn’t he have just pulled on a pair of jeans? The world didn’t have his size; everything he wore was either too big or too tight.
Outside, an ambulance had pulled up on the pontoon and it cast a flickering blue light across the back wall of S17. Simon had got up to look and while he stood at the window, he had bent a knee to rearrange himself using his finger and thumb.
“It’s a bit late for that!” he shouted at the ambulance. Then on the way back to his seat, seeing Jacquie’s upset, he had inappropriately rubbed her back too. His thumb had lingered on Jacquie’s neck a second too long.
Being an external agency meant that sometimes you or a member of your team got felt up by a client. A loophole where there was no real comeback. It was eight o’clock by then so Kay had dialled in to the secure crisis conference line as planned and the automated call system requested their names.
“Simon, Kay, Jacquie,” Kay said, then there was a long beep followed by a burst of classical music. Kay dreamt away for a moment trying to place it, but she knew nothing about classical music. Common as muck really underneath her business suit. Click. The CEO and the Operations Director had clunked into the call. Kay heard the engine of the ambulance power down outside.
“Your dad wasn’t working Kay,” the Operations Manager reassured her. Kay had wangled a job for her father on the perimeter security gate checking car passes.
He sat there day after day reading the newspaper and listening to sport on a crackling radio.
“Oh, thank God, I was worried and he’s not answering his phone,” Kay said, but she knew he was probably still drunk. If he wasn’t working, he wouldn’t get up until lunchtime. As it turned out, it was the new security guard who had found the body on only his third day of employment. He had done a last sweep just after three o’clock and saw a black arc in the water and knew straight away it wasn’t right.
“Jesus Christ,” Simon said, his lip curling back. Jacquie held her hand up over her mouth, flashing her neat and efficient engagement ring. The level of melodrama was extreme. To be fair they were marketing people and not adept at dealing with dead bodies but still. “He won’t be back. I tell you. He’ll be claiming psychological disability benefit from us for the next 50 years. I wish I’d bloody found the body!”
There had been discussion about the tide and the weather. As the Operations Director talked about the overnight storm, a gust of wind had lashed the window and they had all pulled away. A banshee-like whistle of wind swooshed its clawed wings around the building.
It was mundane and boring doing the PR for Excel, as you might expect, but such was the size of the site that now and again, things did get washed up or crimes committed. Never anything of this magnitude.
The CEO had charged Simon with telephoning the owners of Excel, the office of Qatari businessman Abdul Bin Harashi, for damage limitation. There was an immediate need to explain, because after all, the body had been found trussed up underneath their luxury boat, The Lusciousness.
Kay had a persistent negative feeling in her gut that using The Lusciousness as the face of the boat show might have been a bad idea.
This was about to be proved right.
A white tent had been put up outside on the southern embankment, and it was here that the ambulance was parked. Kay had assumed that the body must be inside that tent. A floating pontoon had been erected temporarily for the boat show and The Lusciousness was moored to it. Blue and white police tape extended from the tent and cordoned off access to the pontoon.
At least there was a dog. A cute – and only a real dog lover would ever call one cute – Alsatian had been led around sniffing at a pile of rope and ten or so crates which had been piled up. A diver’s head had popped up in the blue-black water between The Lusciousness and the pontoon. The water looked like poured ink.
It was dizzying. No wonder Jacquie was crying. It was a million miles away from sending out a press release about The Lusciousness being the World’s Most Expensive Boat.
“Christ Jacquie, this is –” Kay had begun to say, but she stopped short. The wind had picked up and rattled the glass again. The side of the tent had been sucked completely insideout revealing solidly planted feet. It must have been the forensic team examining the body. Kay had watched, eyes glued to the tent like a motorway rubbernecker.
The wind had come again, angrier than before, turning the inky water into white tipped wisps. In an instant, it hoisted up the tent, threw it over, and flung it onto its side where it bounced against the side of the ambulance. White gloved hands had reached out frantically from inside to grab it back. Three police officers had sprinted over to secure it.
But it was too late. Kay had seen the body.
Bloated yes, swollen certainly, but the face with a black curl of hair pressed tightly to the fleshy forehead was clear. A dilute orange froth formed around the mouth, but the face was plain to see. The eyes were fixed open. Kay had gasped.
Her knees had buckled. A high-pitched tone had started up in her ears. She collapsed down into a chair, suddenly burning hot and sweating. Good old Jacquie stood up and ran over.
“Are you alright, Kay?”
Kay shook her head, pulling at the neckline of her shirt and had waved Jacquie away.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.”
But Kay was not fine. A vein in her temple was twitching violently.
The dead body in the water.
Kay recognised the face.
She knew him.
Confidential : For reactive Issue only
Sunday 7th January 2018
Position Statement:
A discovery was made this morning at the royal Albert Dock. we are working closely with the relevant authorities to establish the facts of the situation and provide any assistance required.
Simon Bell, Director, excel Conference and exhibition Centre said, “the safety of our guests and exhibitors is extremely important to us. As soon as the discovery came to light, we acted promptly in assisting the relevant authorities. we have currently suspended all activity on site.”
For further information please contact Kay Christie or Jacquie McCoy at
Christie Dean Pr on
0794 400 4000 or email jacquie@christiedeanpr.co.uk
💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕📚💕
Author Bio
Helen Trevorrow is a graduate of the 2016 Faber Academy creative writing programme. She studied at Leeds University and has worked in marketing and public relations in London. She is a specialist food and drink PR. Helen's debut novel IN THE WAKE is a feminist crime thriller about family, unrealised trauma and alcoholism. Helen has ghost-written many articles for newspapers, magazines and websites. She lives in Brighton, Sussex.
Social Media links:
Author Website: http://www.helentrevorrow.com/Twitter: https://twitter.com/helentrevorrow
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/helen_trevorrow/
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