Chapters (74)
- Cover
- Praise
- About the Author
- Also by Anita Frank
- Note to Readers
- Dedication
- Part One
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Part Two
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four
- Chapter Forty-Five
- Chapter Forty-Six
- Chapter Forty-Seven
- Chapter Forty-Eight
- Chapter Forty-Nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Chapter Fifty-One
- Chapter Fifty-Two
- Chapter Fifty-Three
- Chapter Fifty-Four
- Chapter Fifty-Five
- Chapter Fifty-Six
- Chapter Fifty-Seven
- Chapter Fifty-Eight
- Chapter Fifty-Nine
- Chapter Sixty
- Acknowledgements
- Extract
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- About the Publisher
I thought of the untouched bottle of pills tucked away in my dressing table drawer. I turned back to face him, my teacup in hand. ‘It appears so.’ I smiled over the rim and took a deep gulp of the lukewarm liquid.
His studied me, inscrutable. I knew I mustn’t flinch – an inadvertent tremor of my hand, a quiver in my voice, any nervous darting of the eyes and he would have me locked up before the day was out. I took another sip of tea, and with a steady hand, rested my cup back into the saucer.
Mother hadn’t moved from her chair. She was staring into the fire, her lips pursed. She was finally roused by the quiet tap at the door and Annie bobbing into the room.
‘Mrs Brightwell is on the telephone for you, miss.’
She held my gaze for a beat longer than necessary, leaving me to suspect she resented her part in the duplicity, but I was unconcerned. I had achieved my aim: my escape was secured.
‘Oh! Madeleine? I’d better come straight away.’ I contrived a look of polite – if not sincere – disappointment and took a final, hasty gulp of tea. ‘Goodbye, Dr Mayhew.’
I didn’t shut the door fully behind me. I indicated my gratitude to Annie with a curt nod which she acknowledged before returning to her legitimate chores. I, however, loitered.
‘How is she really?’ Dr Mayhew asked.
‘She was caught at the lake again, the other evening.’
I hadn’t realised my mother knew.
‘With intent?’
‘Annie saw her going and followed her down. She brought her back before she had the chance to …’ She didn’t need to finish – we all knew what happened last time.
‘Well, I must say, that is most disappointing to hear. I thought she was making better progress – she’s seemed a little more collected of late.’ He let the dread sink into my poor mother before making a half-hearted attempt to reassure her. ‘Well now, we shouldn’t leap to the worst of conclusions every time. Perhaps it was nothing more than an innocent walk that took her that way – it is a beautiful spot after all, and nothing did happen – but we must also …’ He left a meaningful pause. ‘As you well know, my dear Mrs Marcham, there are a lot of women mourning in this country today. The majority will no doubt overcome their grief in time, but the added trauma of what Stella went through – it might be she never recovers from it.’
‘Then what should we do, Doctor? God knows I can’t lose another daughter.’
‘The medication should help – if she takes it.’
‘She says she is, but if she’s not?’
‘Then maybe we should revisit the idea of a short break away.’