Exclusive bonus content from Amanda Robson’s latest book, Guilt

Guilt begins with a stabbing, which leaves one twin sister dead and the other accused of her murder. The twins Miranda and Zara are thirty years old at the start of the novel. But their problems began to incubate years before that. Here are some teenage memories:


Sitting in the car with Mum, being driven to collect our A-level results. Mum looks even more anxious than us. You get your looks from mother don’t you Zara? You two are golden. She looks so like you as she sits at the traffic lights. I don’t like social conversation that doesn’t go anywhere. But you two do. You two can chat to anyone.

The lights change. The car pulls forwards. We  turn into the school carpark.

‘I’ll wait here,’ Mum says, ‘Good luck.’

Amanda Robson guilt coverI look across at you Zara. In a trance, walking clumsily as if you are asleep with your eyes open. We walk along the corridor, towards the school office  to collect our results envelopes. I feel sick. I need 3A’s to read maths at Bristol. You need 3B’s for English at Oxford Brookes. I so hope we have both achieved what we want. Last night you cried and howled, telling us, that you knew you had failed. We hugged you. We clung to you. We told you we loved you whatever happened, whatever your grades.

A sea of students. Some laughing and chatting. Some silent. You are trembling like a leaf. It’s all right Zara. Everything’s going to be all right. We join the queue outside the school office. People, who have already collected their envelopes, crowd around the entrance. Opening their envelopes, jumping in the air, squealing with delight, hugging one another.  You look at me, despair in your eyes. I try to reassure you with mine.

The queue is moving quickly now. My chest tightens so much I can hardly breathe. I hold your hand Zara. Holding your hand comforts me. The Deputy Head is dispersing people. ‘Drinks and breakfast in the sports hall. Gather in there, please.’

At last we are standing in front of the school secretary.

‘The Cunningham Twins,’ she announces, rifling through the box in front of her.

She hands us our envelopes, and we step away clutching them. We stand looking at each other in the corridor.

‘Where shall we go to open them?’ I ask.

‘The toilets, in case I’m sick,’ you reply.

‘What about the sports hall, for drinks?’

‘Behind it, where it’s private.’

So standing together at the back of the sports hall, ‘Here goes,’ you say biting your lip.

I tear at my results, hands trembling.

A* A* A*

My body pulses with electricity.  I want to shriek, to jump, like the people we were watching earlier. I catch myself. For a second I had forgotten about you Zara. Zara where have you gone?

I find you sitting, back against the wall of the sports hall, eyes closed, tears pouring down your face. Results sheet crumpled and discarded at your side. I bend down, pick it up, and read.

Zara please remember what we told you last night. Whatever happens, please

Amanda Robson guilt tourThe shocking new thriller from the #1 bestseller

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