BooksBarbecue
Back Goodnight Lady
Chapters (60)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Praise
  4. Dedication
  5. BOOK ONE
  6. Prologue 1989
  7. Chapter One
  8. Chapter Two
  9. Chapter Three
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. BOOK TWO - 1925
  17. Chapter Ten - 1925
  18. Chapter Eleven
  19. Chapter Twelve
  20. Chapter Thirteen
  21. Chapter Fourteen
  22. Chapter Fifteen
  23. Chapter Sixteen
  24. Chapter Seventeen
  25. Chapter Eighteen
  26. Chapter Nineteen
  27. Chapter Twenty
  28. Chapter Twenty-one
  29. Chapter Twenty-two
  30. Chapter Twenty-three
  31. Chapter Twenty-four
  32. Chapter Twenty-five
  33. Chapter Twenty-six
  34. Chapter Twenty-seven
  35. Chapter Twenty-eight
  36. Chapter Twenty-nine
  37. Chapter Thirty
  38. Chapter Thirty-one
  39. Chapter Thirty-two
  40. BOOK THREE - 1947
  41. Chapter Thirty-three
  42. Chapter Thirty-four
  43. Chapter Thirty-five
  44. Chapter Thirty-six
  45. Chapter Thirty-seven
  46. Chapter Thirty-eight
  47. Chapter Thirty-nine
  48. Chapter Forty
  49. BOOK FOUR - 1968
  50. Chapter Forty-one - 1968
  51. Chapter Forty-two
  52. Chapter Forty-three
  53. Chapter Forty-four
  54. Chapter Forty-five
  55. Chapter Forty-six
  56. Chapter Forty-seven
  57. Chapter Forty-eight
  58. Chapter Forty-nine
  59. Chapter Fifty - 1970
  60. EPILOGUE

Pushing past the terrified girl, she opened the first door she came to. Bursting into the room, she stopped dead. Sitting by a blazing fire, his face drained of colour, was Henry Dumas, on his lap a little dark-haired girl of nine. Her hands were still clutching the box of sweets, her face a mask of dismay.

As if just realising the child was there, Dumas pushed her from him as if she was red hot, emptying her from his lap on to the carpet with a thump.

‘What are you doing here?’ His voice was high and incredulous. His mouth moved again, but this time no sound emerged. Henry Dumas was literally lost for words. As his eyes burned into Briony’s he became aware of Tommy Lane picking the little girl up and leading her from the room. Heaving himself from the chair, he stood up, shoulders back, and in his most commanding voice, shouted: ‘Leave that child alone! Now take yourself and this ... this ... slut back where you came from!’

His voice and demeanour triggered a reaction from Briony. He dared to shout at them? He dared to stand there in this house and order them out?

She flew at him, hair and nails flying. Instinctively she went for his face, dragging her nails through the soft plump skin of his cheeks, feeling it tear, a superhuman strength flowing through her body. As small as she was, she forced him to the floor. His utter shock at being attacked gave Briony the edge over him. As Henry hit the carpet, his hands trying desperately to hold her clawing fingers away from him, Briony kicked him in the stomach.

He let go of her to hold himself and she picked up the poker from the embers of the fire and brought it crashing down on to his head, the smell of his singeing hair permeating the room. Raising the poker up over her head again she brought it down on to his shoulders and back, again and again, every blow easing the pain inside her until, spent, she looked down on to his bloody face and dropped the poker with a dull thud. She closed her eyes tightly, savouring the moment.

In the recesses of her mind she heard him groan and was aware he was still alive. Her breath was coming in deep gulps, a hoarse whisper escaping from her lips with each gasping breath. Her chest hurt, her arms ached, but she felt a sort of peace descend on her body as she stared at the man before her.