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Back Reluctantly Home Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  55. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Suddenly she couldn’t bear it for a minute more, the maintenance of the facade that she’d built up around herself. She needed to be on her own.

Looking at her watch, she feigned surprise. ‘Goodness, is that the time?’ she said. ‘I promised Mum I’d help with supper. Could I have that lift now, please?’

Jez finished his drink in one swift gulp and they headed back to the van, chatting about the things that had changed on Southwold High Street since they were children and the things that had remained resolutely the same. This felt like much safer territory to Pip. The past. Even though she had spent so long running from it, it suddenly felt a much more secure place to be than the present.

24

24

Pip needed a stamp for a birthday card. This in itself was surprising. She had no idea how many of her friends’ birthdays had rolled by whilst she had been at the farm. Birthdays had been the last thing on her mind as she struggled to hold herself together. But then, out of the blue, she had remembered that in a couple of days it would be a friend’s thirtieth and she had bought a card in her lunch hour. This felt like a normal thing to do, the kind of little chore that she would have sorted without thinking before the accident. And now, here she was doing it again. Was this progress?

She had fished in her purse for a stamp and found one of Dominic’s business cards. He had written the phone number of a restaurant he’d wanted to try on the back. She had been going to book them a table and had slipped the card in her purse to deal with later. But there had been no later.

Seeing his name pulled her up short. It was a shock, and she hadn’t been prepared for it. In the few days since his visit, she had tried not to think about him, worried that it would make her feel sad or, more likely, that she would realise she didn’t feel anything at all. She wasn’t sure which of the two options would be worse, so she had just avoided thinking. Avoiding thought was a skill she had perfected over recent months – keeping busy so nothing unwelcome could creep into her head.