BooksBarbecue
Back False Witness
Chapters (100)
  1. Cover
  2. Title page
  3. Dedication page
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. Acknowledgements
  97. DEAD GUILTY
  98. 1
  99. FALSE WITNESS
  100. Also by Michelle Davies

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Ewan. He looked wounded, which made Julia feel even worse. ‘Don’t wait up for me.’

She forced a laugh. ‘Of course I won’t. I know what those client dinners are like. You’ll come back drunk and bouncing off the walls before you crash out on the sofa until I come and put you into bed.’

Ewan held his hands up in a conciliatory fashion and grinned.

‘Busted.’

He crossed the room and kissed her again, this time on the lips, harder and longer.

‘I do love you,’ he said.

‘I love you too. I promise I’ll do good listening from now on.’

They both laughed – that was what they used to say to the children as infants when they never paid attention.

‘Good, otherwise it’ll be the naughty step for you, young lady.’

At that he left and relief that a row had been averted washed over her.

‘Dylan, can you please fetch your sister?’ she asked, snapping the lids shut on the children’s themed lunchboxes. ‘We’re going to be late.’

‘Okay,’ he grumbled, pushing his chair back.

The sound of the chair’s metal feet scraping against the hardwood floor made Julia wince. As soon as he’d left the room she checked for marks. There was a tiny one, so she got out the special floor polish Ewan had suggested she buy and rubbed hard with a cloth until it was gone.

Sweaty from being on her hands and knees, she checked her make-up in a compact mirror only to wonder why she had bothered applying any as it had already melted off. Her dark brown hair, which she’d painstakingly styled in a sleek bob after her shower, was curling moistly into the nape of her neck like a fortune-teller fish from a Christmas cracker that flips over in your palm.

She shouted her children’s names as she thrust her make-up bag back into the kitchen cupboard where she kept it for handiness alongside tins of beans and packets of pasta.

‘Come on, you two, we’ve got to go.’

Hurrying into the hallway, she shoved her feet into the sandals she’d left by the front door yesterday. The paint was flaking off the skirting board next to where she’d discarded them and she made a mental note to remind Ewan that he’d promised to discuss redecorating in the summer holidays.