With a roar louder than his wife’s, Patrick released the side of the cot and bent over his lifeless daughter, gasping air into his lungs so that he could try and breathe it into her tiny still ones. With two gentle, shaking fingers he massaged her sternum, praying that he was doing it right, trying desperately to remember the correct steps from the baby CPR course that Gill had insisted they both attend in her pregnancy. Push, push, breathe. Push, push, breathe. Bonnie was still purple. She was still warm. That was good. Push, push, breathe. His tears dripped onto her closed eyelids.

Push, push, breathe.

He didn’t know how long he did it for. Time spun into a horrible vortex that seemed to be dragging him down further and further until finally there was the tiniest mew. Bonnie’s eyes opened a crack, and closed again. Her chest, not much bigger than a bag of sugar, heaved very slightly.

Patrick flung himself backwards against the bedroom wall, hyperventilating and sobbing. He grabbed his mobile out of his back pocket, dialled 999, howled for an ambulance. Everything for the next half hour was a blur of movement; cradling Bonnie, rubbing her back to keep her baby breaths coming, wondering if she was brain damaged, crying, letting the ambulance men in, watching them clamp a tiny oxygen mask over his daughter’s face.

It was while they were doing this that Patrick walked on shaky legs over to his wife, who was still curled in a foetal position on the hall floor, moaning and clutching Bonnie’s toy.

He put his arms around her, lifted her up to a sitting position, cradled her close to him in the same way he had just done to his daughter. She smelled metallic, of fear and sweat. He picked a stray long brown hair off the shoulder of her sweater, and waited till his breath was regular enough to speak. He put his lips to her ear:

‘Gillian Louise Lennon, I am arresting you for the attempted murder of Bonnie Elizabeth Lennon. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be taken down and used as evidence in a court of law . . .’

Chapter 1

Chapter 1
Helen – Day 1
Eighteen months later

‘Hurry up, Hel!’

Helen could hear Sean jangling his keys in the hall, no doubt checking his watch and tutting.

‘I’m nearly ready!’ Helen called back down the stairs from the bathroom, trying to keep her tone light. This was their first date night in weeks and she didn’t want it to start off on the wrong foot.