BooksBarbecue
Back Cut to the Bone
Chapters (71)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Cut to the Bone
  3. About the Author
  4. Also by Roz Watkins
  5. Note to Readers
  6. Dedication
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. Extract
  67. Prologue
  68. Chapter 1
  69. Author’s note
  70. Acknowledgements
  71. About the Publisher

He shifted on his chair. I caught a fleeting expression on his face that sent a shiver down my spine. ‘Not too bad. Yes, fun. How about you though? You say it’s stressful. Do you want to tell me about it?’

I hesitated. This was so unlike Dad I was almost joining the What does he want? camp. And should I ask more about the poker? His response had definitely been a bit odd. But he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. ‘You know that joke about the engineer, the physicist and the mathematician who see a black sheep in Scotland?’ Even though Dad was giving every impression of wanting to listen, I couldn’t stop myself introducing the problem in Dad-terms. Giving him the opportunity to be just a bit clever, right from the start.

‘Yes. The engineer says, Oh, the sheep in Scotland are black; the physicist says, No, some of the sheep in Scotland are black; and the mathematician rolls his eyes and says, No, in Scotland, there is at least one sheep, at least one side of which appears to be black when viewed from here, at least some of the time.’

‘That’s the one. Well, I feel like the mathematician.’

‘How so?’

‘There’s an explanation that fits the facts. And everyone’s assuming it’s true. Assuming the sheep is black. But what if it’s just one side of the sheep? Or only when viewed from this angle?’

Because if the sheep wasn’t black, we could be assuming Violet was dead when in fact she was alive and desperate for our help.

‘Do you want to talk about it? I’m the soul of discretion. I don’t talk to other humans, and I find quantum physics more comprehensible than social media, so I think you’re safe.’

‘I can’t, Dad, but I do appreciate you being willing to listen. Really I do.’

‘Okay, maybe you can’t tell me about it,’ Dad said. ‘But you’ve got a good brain. If it’s telling you to dig deeper, there’ll be a valid reason why.’

40

Meg – Present day

Friday

My eyes popped open. I was tangled in the covers, sweating with the humidity of the night. The rain still hadn’t come.

A noise had woken me. I looked at the clock: 3.14 a.m.

I pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. Walked over to the window and peered out. The night was a deep black, the moon hidden behind clouds. But I sensed movement in the garden below.

I pulled on knickers and jeans under my nightshirt and crept down to the kitchen. The light was on. My pulse quickened. I was sure it hadn’t been on when I’d looked out of the bedroom window, or I’d have been able to see more of the garden.