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Back Cut to the Bone Save as PDF
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

That seemed to satisfy him. He didn’t ask the obvious question. Why don’t you live with your dad? She didn’t want to answer that one, even in her own mind. There was only one possible answer: Because he blames me for what happened. And she couldn’t handle that.

She needed the driver to shut up so she could prepare herself. She knew her dad didn’t want her to visit him at all, never mind for a month. Why on earth had she forced herself on him? Her aunt had been against it too – begging Bex not to go to Gritton. But Bex felt a sick desperation to be closer to her dad and Kirsty. A hollowness inside her that she was sure would go away if only she knew them properly. When you’ve already lost your mum, you need to hang on to the rest of your family. When they’d done The Importance of Being Earnest at school, she’d been the only one in her class not to laugh at the joke about losing both parents.

Her dad and Kirsty had visited a few times – she’d last seen them a couple of years ago – but it had always felt unreal, like her dad wasn’t really her dad, her sister just a stranger. Surely a month together in Gritton would fix that? So why was the prospect so terrifying?

She’d written instructions to herself in her diary that morning, which now seemed childish and pathetic.

1. Pretend your dad wanted you to visit.

2. Get on well with Dad and Kirsty.

3. Make a friend in Gritton.

She smoothed her dress over her legs. She’d tried to look nice, so they’d be glad to see her. A new yellow coat, a dress instead of jeans, girly shoes. She peered out of the window. It was dark ahead, despite only being early evening.

‘Looks like a storm,’ the driver said, and the rain came pouring down, pounding the taxi’s roof. ‘You’re unlucky – it’s been dry for weeks.’

The taxi splashed through a puddle and the driver turned the wipers up to maximum. Bex saw the sign, Welcome to Gritton, but the surroundings were hidden by the sudden downpour. She closed her eyes. She had a picture of Gritton in her mind. The dark woods behind her dad’s farm, the rocks standing on the hill like prison guards, the reservoir that drew the light from the sky deep into itself. It must have come from photographs. She couldn’t possibly remember it from when she was three, and she hadn’t been back since.

The driver interrupted her thoughts. ‘You want me to take you right into the village?’

‘Yes please.’

‘Some people get dropped here.’