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Back Because She Loves Me Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication Page
  4. Contents
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Ninteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-one
  26. Twenty-two
  27. Twenty-three
  28. Twenty-four
  29. Twenty-five
  30. Twenty-six
  31. Twenty-seven
  32. Twenty-eight
  33. Twenty-nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-one
  36. Thirty-two
  37. Thirty-three
  38. Thirty-four
  39. Thirty-five
  40. Thirty-six
  41. Thirty-seven
  42. Thirty-eight
  43. Thirty-nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-one
  46. Forty-two
  47. Epilogue
  48. Letter From the Author
  49. Acknowledgements
  50. About the Author

I checked the time again. Four-thirty. Had half an hour really passed? How had that happened? I rubbed my eyes. So tired. So very tired. It felt like my blood had been replaced with syrup. My brain was finding it hard to formulate thoughts. My limbs were heavy, as were my eyelids. I couldn’t feel any pain though; my legs were numb, rubbery. Charlie’s codeine was doing its job.

I pushed myself up from my chair and almost fell over. OK, I really did need to lie down. The bed was too far though. The sofa was just a few steps away. I made it and lay down.

My phone chirped. With great effort, like all my muscles had wasted away, like the air in the room was crushing me to death, I found my phone in my pocket and squinted at it. The words in the little grey speech bubble on the screen floated about but, with a Herculean force of will, I was able to make out that the text was from Karen – Karen? Who was Karen? Oh, yes, my older woman, my Mrs Robinson – and that it said Please call me urgently x

One last struggle to stay awake, to stay afloat, concentrate . . . and then I gave in.

Ninteen

Ninteen

‘Andrew. Andrew? Can you hear me?’ The voice was soft, kind. A hand on my cheek, then stroking my hair. I was rising, floating up through the dark water, breaking the surface in a froth of bubbles.

‘Mum?’

A gentle laugh. ‘No, handsome. It’s me, Charlie.’

I opened one eye, then the other. There was a sharp pain behind my eyebrows and my mouth felt like I’d been crunching on spoonfuls of sand. I was warm, too, and I looked down to see that I had a blanket over me, the thick woollen one that I kept rolled up in the top of my wardrobe. I was on my sofa.

And there was an angel smiling at me, an angel with glorious flaming hair and big intelligent eyes.

‘Andrew?’ the angel called Charlie said, tilting her head. ‘Stay with me. Don’t go—’

I slipped beneath the water again.

I woke up with Charlie kneeling on the carpet in front of me, holding a glass of water and gazing at me with concern. As soon as I opened my eyes she said, ‘Oh, thank God. Please try to stay awake this time.’

‘There are cobwebs in my head,’ I said. ‘Spiders crawling around my brain.’

She looked at me with alarm.

‘No, I don’t mean literally.’ Was this what delirium felt like? ‘I mean . . .’ I couldn’t find the words to complete the sentence.

She held out the water, told me to drink some.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

‘I can’t . . . I don’t . . .’