Of the many calls Dorset Police received each year from members of the public who’d found a ‘dead body’, very few turned out to be actual dead bodies. Most were plastic bags or old boots floating in a secluded pool. Some were scarecrows that had fallen from their perches. Last year, there had been a fly-tipper, still at large, who’d dumped at least twelve clothes shop mannequins in hedges and ditches along the A35 between Bridport and Axminster, prompting a flurry of 999 call

Annie Abbott danced from side to side on the pebbles near the breakwater as she addressed the group of swimmers. She might not have been their leader, but she liked things organised and was always happy to take charge. “Brilliant!” she cried over a wind that threatened to whip away her voice. “You were all amazing!” The group huddled in their dry robes, none of them paying any attention. Figgy muttered to herself, and Helen and Rosamund were exchanging grumbles. Yes, it had b

Annie Abbott stood barefoot on the pebbles, her dry robe fluttering in the breeze as she sipped her coffee. She’d put off her first caffeine hit until after the morning swim, knowing it added to the pleasure. She adored swimming in Lyme Regis bay, in that sheltered sweep between the sea wall and beach. But even in July the water was cold first thing and she had to admit that, more than the swim itself, she enjoyed having swum. This was her favourite time of day. She could rel

“Oh!” Annie Abbott hesitated as the cold water of Lyme Regis Bay reached her waistline. By now, she should have got used to this, but every morning she came down here, it took her by surprise. The dreaded ‘oh’ zone, as she called it. She squeezed her eyes shut and waded a little further out. She could do this. In fact, once she was fully immersed, it would be bliss. “Swim!” came a voice from up ahead. Her friend – acquaintance maybe, Annie wasn’t sure – Rosamund, never the sl

It was a one-and-a-half-hour drive from Bournemouth to Lyme Regis. Usually more than enough time for Annie Abbott to convince either of her girls of pretty much anything. Annie had raised Tina and Naomi to be strong and independent women. But there was a difference between strong and independent, and just bloody pig-headed. The current disagreement, and the whole reason Annie was driving Tina back with her to Lyme Regis, was Tina’s living situation. And her physical condition