Back One Year Later
Chapters (49)
  1. PROLOGUE
  2. PART I
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. PART II
  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. PART III
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. PART IV
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. EPILOGUEAMY
  48. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  49. BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS

There is no going back. Her father is here to stay.

9

AMY

‘I couldn’t do it,’ Amy says again.

She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, sliding her rings off and rubbing cream from a tube of Body Shop hemp hand-protector into the dry skin of her knuckles. The smell reminds her of the linseed oil in her mother’s studio.

Matt is lying on the bed, reading a magazine about fishing. It’s a new hobby. He used to coach five-a-side football, and she can’t square the image she has of her husband – a man who spent his weekends running up and down the side of a pitch, shouting until he was hoarse – with the person he’s become: a man whose Sundays are silent and solitary, communing with non-existent fish. It’s still early and they can hear faint voices carried up from the beach on the wind, a reminder that other people are enjoying themselves, that other people have not yet been sapped of the will to live. It’s not that long since they’ve got the children into bed, Pearl tucked next to Lotte. Her father has gone to his room. Nick, Bethany, Chloe, Joe and Luca are watching a movie on TV downstairs. A ripple of gunshots reverberates through the floorboards.

Matt sighs and rests the magazine on his thighs, removes his glasses. His earlier anger has slipped into something harder, sadder. ‘I don’t want him here, Amy. You shouldn’t have let him stay.’

‘You still don’t think he has dementia?’

Matt looks towards the window but he’s not really focusing on what’s outside. The window is small and faces the pool, and they haven’t closed the curtains yet. There’s the sound of a muffled scream, followed by a splash. Amy looks out. Chloe has jumped in and there’s a dark shape on the far side of the pool. She can’t see who it is. The film must have finished or else Chloe has grown bored. Amy wants to tell Matt to make the girl go to bed, but he acts as if he hasn’t noticed.

‘David’s always been arrogant and selfish,’ Matt says finally. ‘He never thought about you when you were children, and I haven’t noticed a change. As far as I can see, he’s still as sharp as a pin. He was reading some tome after dinner – a trawl through British politics from Thatcher to Brexit.’

His voice is pinched, final. Matt replaces his glasses and picks up the magazine again. There’s a picture of an enormous trout on the front cover, bursting from murky depths, its mouth agape, gasping for air, the shadow of a man in the background.