Gone-Girl-by-Gillian-Flynn

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Yes, we thought we were being clever New Yorkers – that the name was a joke no one else would really get, not get like we did. Not meta-get. We pictured the locals scrunching their noses: Why’d you name it The Bar? But our first customer, a gray-haired woman in bifocals and a pink jogging suit, said, ‘I like the name. Like in Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Audrey Hepburn’s cat was named Cat.’ We felt much less superior after that, which was a good thing. I pulled into the parking lot. I waited until a strike erupted from the bowling alley – thank you, thank you, friends – then stepped out of the car. I admired the surroundings, still not bored with the broken-in view: the squatty blond-brick post office across the street (now closed on Saturdays), the unassuming beige office building just down the way (now closed, period). The town wasn’t prosperous, not anymore, not <strong>by</strong> a long shot. Hell, it wasn’t even original, being one of two Carthage, Missouris – ours is technically North Carthage, which makes it sound like a twin city, although it’s hundreds of miles from the other and the lesser of the two: a quaint little 1950s town that bloated itself into a basic midsize suburb and dubbed it progress. Still, it was where my mom grew up and where she raised me and Go, so it had some history. Mine, at least. As I walked toward the bar across the concrete-and-weed parking lot, I looked straight down the road and saw the river. That’s what I’ve always loved about our town: We aren’t built on some safe bluff overlooking the Mississippi – we are on the Mississippi. I could walk down the road and step right into the sucker, an easy three-foot drop, and be on my way to Tennessee. Every building downtown bears hand-drawn lines from where the river hit during the Flood of ’61, ’75, ’84, ’93, ’07, ’08, ’11. And so on. The river wasn’t swollen now, but it was running urgently, in strong ropy currents. Moving apace with the river was a long single-file line of men, eyes aimed at their feet, shoulders tense, walking steadfastly nowhere. As I watched them, one suddenly looked up at me, his face in shadow, an oval blackness. I turned away. I felt an immediate, intense need to get inside. By the time I’d gone twenty feet, my neck bubbled with sweat. The sun was still an angry eye in the sky. You have been seen. My gut twisted, and I moved quicker. I needed a drink.
AMY ELLIOTT JANUARY 8, 2005 – Diary entry – Tra and la! I am smiling a big adopted-orphan smile as I write this. I am embarrassed at how happy I am, like some Technicolor comic of a teenage girl talking on the phone with my hair in a ponytail, the bubble above my head saying: I met a boy! But I did. This is a technical, empirical truth. I met a boy, a great, gorgeous dude, a funny, cool-ass guy. Let me set the scene, because it deserves setting for posterity (no, please, I’m not that far gone, posterity! feh). But still. It’s not New Year’s, but still very much the new year. It’s winter: early dark, freezing cold. Carmen, a newish friend – semi-friend, barely friend, the kind of friend you can’t cancel on – has talked me into going out to Brooklyn, to one of her writers’ parties. Now, I like a writer party, I like writers, I am the child of writers, I am a writer. I still love scribbling that word – WRITER – any time a form, questionnaire, document asks for my occupation. Fine, I write personality quizzes, I don’t write about the Great Issues of the Day, but I think it’s fair to say I am a writer. I’m using this journal to get better: to hone my skills, to collect details and observations. To show don’t tell and all that other writery crap. (Adopted-orphan smile, I mean, that’s not bad, come on.) But really, I do think my quizzes alone qualify me on at least an honorary basis. Right? At a party you find yourself surrounded <strong>by</strong> genuine talented writers, employed at high-profile, respected newspapers and magazines. You merely write quizzes for women’s rags. When someone asks what you do for a living, you: a) Get embarrassed and say, ‘I’m just a quiz writer, it’s silly stuff!’ b) Go on the offense: ‘I’m a writer now, but I’m considering something more challenging and worthwhile – why, what do you do?’ c) Take pride in your accomplishments: ‘I write personality quizzes using the knowledge gleaned from my master’s degree in psychology – oh, and fun fact: I am the inspiration for a beloved children’s-book series, I’m sure you know it, Amazing Amy? Yeah, so suck it, snobdouche!
Page 2 and 3: To Brett: light of my life, senior
Page 4 and 5: CONTENTS Cover Dedication Title Pag
Page 6 and 7: Amy Elliott Dunne: Twenty-Six Days
Page 8 and 9: PART ONE BOY LOSES GIRL
Page 10 and 11: little Missouri hometown, in her fi
Page 12 and 13: some buttons for bartering, trying
Page 16 and 17: Answer: C, totally C Anyway, the pa
Page 18 and 19: the one who will end up with a pie
Page 20 and 21: Without asking, she poured me a dra
Page 22 and 23: ‘Treasure hunt,’ I said. My wif
Page 24 and 25: ‘Paper is first year,’ I said.
Page 26 and 27: ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘It
Page 28 and 29: ‘Amy!’ She wasn’t on the wate
Page 30 and 31: let me grow up, unencumbered by my
Page 32 and 33: Andys? No, just kidding, don’t wr
Page 34 and 35: NICK DUNNE THE DAY OF I waited for
Page 36 and 37: I was telling Riordan about the str
Page 38 and 39: need me to translate my English, Co
Page 40 and 41: ‘What anniversary today?’ she a
Page 42 and 43: Delaware, a state of many rich iden
Page 44 and 45: NICK DUNNE THE NIGHT OF Boney and G
Page 46 and 47: was so completely true and I’d ne
Page 48 and 49: some good friends here? We’d like
Page 50 and 51: eing monitored, her photo circulate
Page 52 and 53: glasses, fussy with the table lamp.
Page 54 and 55: The police finished with their ques
Page 56 and 57: AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE APRIL 21, 2009 -
Page 58 and 59: of his own taxi, and he stands in t
Page 60 and 61: ‘Man, my wife, she’s been hyste
Page 62 and 63: technicality he never saw himself a
Page 64 and 65:
It was silly but incredibly sweet,
Page 66 and 67:
longtime response, the need to remi
Page 68 and 69:
crook of the V of the Robert Indian
Page 70 and 71:
your money.’ ‘Not according to
Page 72 and 73:
I stay where I am for a few minutes
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hit, washed away the Riverway store
Page 76 and 77:
I’m an adjunct professor there. H
Page 78 and 79:
the clue say?’ I let him read ove
Page 80 and 81:
have, more than once.) The quizzes
Page 82 and 83:
touch me again. ‘Oh, okay. Good,
Page 84 and 85:
Desi left school shortly after. But
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great! c) Until a new job comes alo
Page 88 and 89:
grooves beneath his eyes. My mother
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NICK DUNNE TWO DAYS GONE I woke up
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‘Oh, come on—’ ‘You’d be
Page 94 and 95:
‘Hear the police are botching thi
Page 96 and 97:
missing person notice for Amy, my w
Page 98 and 99:
mantra of all attractive women. ‘
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four, and it’s spread to the live
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shuffling, like my bones hurt, a fe
Page 104 and 105:
NICK DUNNE THREE DAYS GONE The poli
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around, as if he worried they’d o
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played Huck, we were out to dinner,
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celebrate us, not a test about whet
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hopped in the back, planted himself
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was what we had in mind. When we re
Page 116 and 117:
signs that read Jewelry and Beauty
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I pulled out her photo. The Hillsam
Page 120 and 121:
your housewarming? Have you thought
Page 122 and 123:
Go grim-faced, her hair in barrette
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off and starts moving toward me aga
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‘No, he just said she was afraid,
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in town. There are plenty of other
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up. I entered the headquarters a fe
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‘Okay.’ She lingered, so I bega
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I should add, in Amy’s defense, t
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moment. I punished you for being a
Page 138 and 139:
genuinely annoying and then swung b
Page 140 and 141:
know he loves me.’ I admire Mo’
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NICK DUNNE FOUR DAYS GONE She was s
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her hair? Also: What were Amy’s f
Page 146 and 147:
who left the bar early if a woman w
Page 148 and 149:
sweater. Don’t be that guy, I tho
Page 150 and 151:
the miserable situation, assuming t
Page 152 and 153:
shoulder. ‘Maybe—’ I could fe
Page 154 and 155:
AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE JULY 21, 2011 I a
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Instead, we wait. It takes two hour
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NICK DUNNE FIVE DAYS GONE I leaned
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‘Nick, this is a little drastic.
Page 162 and 163:
I phoned Go and she said, ‘Well,
Page 164 and 165:
‘You had a very intense relations
Page 166 and 167:
didn’t know - you’d think they
Page 168 and 169:
‘It was interesting to meet you,
Page 170 and 171:
me full on the lips, and he touched
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NICK DUNNE FIVE DAYS GONE I sat in
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‘It’s kind of a woodwork situat
Page 176 and 177:
‘I don’t know what you want me
Page 178 and 179:
‘Not Wednesday night?’ Boney as
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south. Amy’s parents had to borro
Page 182 and 183:
wife in those photos?’ They gave
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AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE OCTOBER 21, 2011
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from a night out drinking, and I’
Page 188 and 189:
NICK DUNNE SIX DAYS GONE The first
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wasn’t sure if it was Andie or Am
Page 192 and 193:
town, this town that Amy loved, tha
Page 194 and 195:
We both gasped. He held his fist in
Page 196 and 197:
NICK DUNNE SIX DAYS GONE Go pushed
Page 198 and 199:
‘It’s a lot different. But you
Page 200 and 201:
‘You walked all the way here?’
Page 202 and 203:
letters, a beautiful antique wooden
Page 204 and 205:
NICK DUNNE SEVEN DAYS GONE It was t
Page 206 and 207:
‘She was definitely pregnant.’
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pregnant.’ ‘Is pregnant.’ Tan
Page 210 and 211:
Tanner tightened his tie, twisted a
Page 212 and 213:
‘We’ll prep you for the convers
Page 214 and 215:
PART TWO BOY MEETS GIRL
Page 216 and 217:
no blood has dripped where it shoul
Page 218 and 219:
persona because they’re too lazy
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else - than I ever have been before
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a word to the woodshed. ‘Look,’
Page 224 and 225:
The beginning of a wonderful new st
Page 226 and 227:
Amy put in where she’s hidden som
Page 228 and 229:
AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE THE DAY OF You kn
Page 230 and 231:
I’ve always thought I could commi
Page 232 and 233:
event? It was fun, mostly. I’d wa
Page 234 and 235:
NICK DUNNE SEVEN DAYS GONE I had to
Page 236 and 237:
near the door. ‘You are such a sp
Page 238 and 239:
‘Let me go, Nick, or I swear.’
Page 240 and 241:
picked up my story. She has to, I c
Page 242 and 243:
fish. A couple of times now, he bri
Page 244 and 245:
know that. Not for sure. For now it
Page 246 and 247:
cop line, but it’s the truth.’
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flipped Amy off - she wouldn’t le
Page 250 and 251:
ead it, but it’s also another pla
Page 252 and 253:
AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE SEVEN DAYS GONE I
Page 254 and 255:
machine, showing a toddler asleep o
Page 256 and 257:
Needs Me’ is basically a lilting
Page 258 and 259:
watch TV.’ I bring a fresh tomato
Page 260 and 261:
She is looking right at me, and I w
Page 262 and 263:
NICK DUNNE EIGHT DAYS GONE We searc
Page 264 and 265:
‘Lets see if we can reach out to
Page 266 and 267:
‘Hives. Stress.’ I turned away
Page 268 and 269:
smiling. A tear dribbled on his chi
Page 270 and 271:
‘Well.’ Tommy called again for
Page 272 and 273:
anonymous, typed, says: Maybe next
Page 274 and 275:
‘You’re up,’ Greta says to me
Page 276 and 277:
nuances, the structure. Just good o
Page 278 and 279:
finding the angle, exploiting the w
Page 280 and 281:
fish-smuggling ring? ‘I’ am gam
Page 282 and 283:
NICK DUNNE EIGHT DAYS GONE As soon
Page 284 and 285:
as an idea and not really for who s
Page 286 and 287:
oardwalk psychic. ‘No. I have no
Page 288 and 289:
‘Because I realized I’d be stuc
Page 290 and 291:
presence known, and then she was ba
Page 292 and 293:
‘I’ll give it context,’ she s
Page 294 and 295:
just happens to be the coolest girl
Page 296 and 297:
gives me pause. My husband has fini
Page 298 and 299:
goodbye.’ He steps toward me, and
Page 300 and 301:
He pats me on the arm as they leave
Page 302 and 303:
The doorbell rang, and I opened the
Page 304 and 305:
I’m not fucking around here: This
Page 306 and 307:
alternate theory. She has a good re
Page 308 and 309:
She turned the camera on, sat down
Page 310 and 311:
ejuvenative picture?’ Betsy asked
Page 312 and 313:
NICK DUNNE TEN DAYS GONE We spent t
Page 314 and 315:
AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE TEN DAYS GONE I h
Page 316 and 317:
my eyes bigger, my cheeks flushed.
Page 318 and 319:
singers.’ He says the word dubiou
Page 320 and 321:
house. If you feel cramped by me, i
Page 322 and 323:
privacy to heal during this very pa
Page 324 and 325:
make any excuses for it. I let myse
Page 326 and 327:
said. ‘Not gonna bite you.’ The
Page 328 and 329:
She looked startled and held up a f
Page 330 and 331:
AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE TEN DAYS GONE We
Page 332 and 333:
year. ‘My goodness, Desi,’ I sa
Page 334 and 335:
handwriting. ‘You know what else
Page 336 and 337:
‘Is she crazy, Nick?’ Boney sai
Page 338 and 339:
‘The visor hat, that’s an old i
Page 340 and 341:
the bag. He doesn’t like the smel
Page 342 and 343:
to be Amy’s hero, and when I lost
Page 344 and 345:
NICK DUNNE FOURTEEN DAYS GONE I wok
Page 346 and 347:
that—’ ‘Yeah, that would be g
Page 348 and 349:
senses. Those fucking bitches. I’
Page 350 and 351:
AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE TWENTY-SIX DAYS G
Page 352 and 353:
I look at Desi with outright disgus
Page 354 and 355:
AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE FORTY DAYS GONE I
Page 356 and 357:
‘Oh, darling, not silly at all. I
Page 358 and 359:
NICK DUNNE FORTY DAYS GONE Out on b
Page 360 and 361:
I wanted to kill her. Had we been a
Page 362 and 363:
a good man. But … I guess it does
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with creases from being folded too
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B: So he stabbed you? The angle is
Page 368 and 369:
like I was nosing around in somethi
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NICK DUNNE THE NIGHT OF THE RETURN
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to have Amy back? How wonderful do
Page 374 and 375:
hated her. I was afraid of her. ‘
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‘Ha! Never thought I’d hear you
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I paused. ‘That was my original p
Page 380 and 381:
the words she suctioned to me: aver
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possible way. You don’t really lo
Page 384 and 385:
‘Shut up, Amy. I mean it.’ ‘J
Page 386 and 387:
Amy was exactly right. So maybe the
Page 388 and 389:
know, would love to arrest me. But
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NICK DUNNE THIRTY DAYS AFTER THE RE
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more of her lies …’ ‘We shoul
Page 394 and 395:
me, like, actually sleep. It will b
Page 396 and 397:
NICK DUNNE NINE WEEKS AFTER THE RET
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AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE TEN WEEKS AFTER T
Page 400 and 401:
I felt a giant bubble of joy - I co
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Yes, I am finally a match for Amy.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I’ve got to start
Page 406 and 407:
laugh till I fall down. The guy who
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ALSO BY GILLIAN FLYNN SHARP OBJECTS
Page 410:
Copyright A Weidenfeld & Nicolson e
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