I’m ploughing my way through this new novel, Silent Friends, a psychological thriller about a group of music students. I’ve written some of the story in the present and other sections in the past. At this point in the story, central character Gavin begins to suspect that something isn’t quite right.
I hurried up the stairs, drawing to a halt by the annexe entrance. Silence. Leaves blowing around outside in the wind, like last Friday evening. An overcast night sky, promising rain. The fire door was firmly shut and the lights working normally. The corridor appeared empty, yet the stillness was deepening and the fading daylight casting shadows in the hedges and trees. Fresh shapes formed on the pathway outside. A gust of wind. Wisps of movement. A large shadow positioned in between a couple of trees. I legged it down the maze of corridors, reaching the student bar, breathless and covered in sweat.