Chapters (67)
- Cover
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
‘No. This isn’t about guilt or anything else to do with our marriage and your walking out of it. That’s done. You have a new life and if you walk out of that, if you leave a very young woman and two babies because you feel guilty, you’ve decided you’re not happy with them after all, you can’t cope with their crying, you don’t like the mess and the untidiness . . . then I despise you even more than I did. Look at you. You’re a wreck and it’s not all because of our daughter. Whatever the reason she did it, don’t flatter yourself it was anything to do with you. I’ve made tea, the supper is heating up and you’re welcome to some and then you take your carrier bags full of shirts or whatever they are and go back home. Home, Jeff. This isn’t your home any more.’
When he looked at her again, Greta saw defeat and misery, grief and despair.
‘If she didn’t do it because of me – and maybe you’re right – then what was it? Why did she do it, Greta? What happened to her?’
Fifty-Two
‘I just don’t want to go. Not tonight, not any night.’
‘Do I have to talk to you as if you were five and say that sometimes we just have to do things we don’t want to?’
‘OK, OK.’
‘Si, I understand, you know that, but you have to go. Dad’s old, he’s on his own –’
‘He’s his own worst enemy.’
‘It won’t be as bad as you think.’
‘No, it’ll be worse.’
‘Just bite on the bullet.’
‘Any other platitudes? I rang you for sympathy.’
‘Well, you’re not getting it. For heaven’s sake, it’s one evening of your life and it’s now five to seven . . . Talk later.’