The Last Good Evening
The heat has not broken in weeks. On the field at the edge of town a travelling fair has risen overnight - the calliope turning, the big wheel strung with lights, diesel and burnt sugar on the warm dark air. Eleanor Vale, fifty-three, comes to it alone, and comes happy.
Then her little girl is gone.
As Eleanor hunts through the emptying fairground, the night begins, very quietly, to come apart in her hands. The stalls she has already passed have aged when she comes to them again. No one remembers the child. A woman with gold at her ears tells her where to look. And as the dark comes down and the lights go out a row at a time, the fair she has loved all her life gives way to something that cannot be - while the one question she dare not ask waits, patient and close, at her side.
A ghost story that keeps no ghost. A haunting that follows you off the last page and into the sound of your own breathing.
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