- Category: News
- Published: 06 March 2014
I’m obsessed with this photo of my Glaswegian grandparents, Willie and Kathleen.
To me they were the lovely old couple who brought up my dad in a Glasgow tenement, then kept me and my brother well supplied in the 70s with Highland toffees and made-up fairy stories. Yet, that didn’t explain the furs and moth-eaten evening dresses and rows of crocodile shoes I found in my Nana's wardrobe. Then recently, I inherited a box of their photographs, including this one, and many of them dressed at elegant parties and driving to Switzerland in fancy cars.
Now as I dig around the family, stories are starting to surface: of a runaway Irish great-grandfather, lost family millions, weekends at parties in Scottish castles, a modeling career, and an abandoned priesthood. And that’s just the start.
Now, I’m a writer, so what else could I do? In my new thriller The Hidden Girl, Hannah finds a stack of old photo albums, too – in her case, in an abandoned Suffolk house with a disturbing mystery at its heart. She has one chance to unlock the secret before it’s too late – but only one photo holds the clue.