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Chapters (62)
  1. Title
  2. Copyright
  3. Contents
  4. About the Author
  5. About the Book
  6. Dedication
  7. Your Worst Nightmare
  8. ONE
  9. TWO
  10. THREE
  11. FOUR
  12. FIVE
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. EIGHT
  16. NINE
  17. The Answer to All Your Prayers
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. THIRTEEN
  22. FOURTEEN
  23. FIFTEEN
  24. SIXTEEN
  25. SEVENTEEN
  26. EIGHTEEN
  27. NINETEEN
  28. TWENTY
  29. TWENTY-ONE
  30. TWENTY-TWO
  31. TWENTY-THREE
  32. TWENTY-FOUR
  33. TWENTY-FIVE
  34. TWENTY-SIX
  35. TWENTY-SEVEN
  36. TWENTY-EIGHT
  37. TWENTY-NINE
  38. THIRTY
  39. THIRTY-ONE
  40. Somebody Else’s Child
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. FORTY
  50. FORTY-ONE
  51. FORTY-TWO
  52. FORTY-THREE
  53. FORTY-FOUR
  54. FORTY-FIVE
  55. FORTY-SIX
  56. FORTY-SEVEN
  57. FORTY-EIGHT
  58. FORTY-NINE
  59. Sunlight on Water
  60. July
  61. September
  62. Acknowledgements

‘He’d be glad to have someone to share it. I’m not much for drinking, at the moment. You know, Evan could stay with us for a few days if you like, see how he gets on. It might take the pressure off you and Claire.’

‘What pressure?’

Dora pats her son’s hand.

‘I’m not a fool, Matty. I see what I see. For Evan’s sake, you should try and work things out. You’ve been through a lot together, and Evan needs you both.’

Matt sighs. A honey bee takes off from one red bloom and migrates to another, pure white.

‘I’m afraid that ship may already have sailed.’

‘You might be surprised. Things are different now he’s home.’

‘Not as different as they should be.’

‘So what about Evan? Do you think he might want to stay?’

‘I don’t know. I’ll ask him.’

‘You’d better ask Claire first, see how she feels about it.’

‘I’m sure she’ll say it’s whatever Evan wants.’

‘I think so too. And your father would be over the moon.’

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-TWO

14 August

Jack’s still keeping up old habits, up and about before dawn, even though he’s barely slept for worrying about Dora. She seems to be sleeping too well, dozing at every opportunity, falling into deep slumber as soon as she lies down at night, dispensing with her lifetime’s habit of reading a chapter of her library book. The books are piled up now on the ottoman at the end of the bed. They’re due for return in a couple of days, and Dora hasn’t read a single one. Jack tells himself it’s the drugs that are making her sleep so much, and there’s no doubt the opiates do induce drowsiness. In optimistic moments, he believes she’s sleeping herself a cure, shutting down non-essential functions so her body can focus on fighting the enemy within. In pessimistic moods – which he tries to keep at bay – he can’t help feeling that her body’s winding down, that his Dora is being pushed aside and undermined by the invading armies of her disease.

He’s made tea, but there’s no newspaper to go with it. There have been no papers in the house since his family made the headlines. He’s seen first-hand the price people pay to give them a story, and how a few words of newsprint don’t tell even the beginning of the narrative as it actually is. Misery, despair, grief, hope. Column inches touch none of those things, and they’re the only things which count.