Chapters (148)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Saturday, 16 June 2018
- Twelve Years Earlier, 7 July 2006
- 2
- 3
- Sunday, 17 June 2018
- 2
- 3
- Twelve Years Earlier, 7 July 2006: Evening
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- Twelve Years Earlier, 7 July 2006: Evening
- 2
- Monday, 18 June 2018
- 2
- 3
- 4
- Twelve Years Earlier, 9 July 2006
- 2
- 3
- 4
- Twelve Years Earlier, 9 July 2006
- 2
- 3
- 4
- Twelve Years Earlier, 9 July 2006: Evening
- Tuesday, 19 June 2018
- 2
- 3
- 4
- Twelve Years Earlier, 29 July 2006
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- Twelve Years Earlier, 30 July 2006
- 2
- 3
- Twelve Years Earlier, 31 July 2006
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- Wednesday, 20 June 2018
- 2
- 3
- 4
- Eleven Years Earlier: Sunday Morning, 1 July 2007
- 2
- 3
- 4
- Eleven Years Earlier: Sunday Morning, 1 July 2007:
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- Thursday, 21 June 2018
- 2
- 3
- Eight Years Earlier: Friday, 18 June 2010
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- Eight Years Earlier: Sunday, 27 June 2010
- 2
- 3
- Eight Years Earlier: Thursday, 1 July 2010
- Eight Years Earlier: Thursday, 1 July 2010
- 2
- Eight Years Earlier: Wednesday, 18 August 2010
- 2
- Friday, 22 June 2018
- 2
- 3
- 4
- Four Years Earlier: July 2014
- 2
- 3
- 4
- Four Years Earlier: July 2014
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- Four Years Earlier: July 2014
- 2
- Four Years Earlier: July 2014
- 2
- 3
- Four Years Earlier: July 2014
- 2
- Four Years Earlier: July 2014
- Four Years Earlier: July 2014
- Saturday, 23 June 2018
- 2
- 3
- Saturday, 23 June 2018
- 2
- 3
- Martin
- DI Wynne
- Sandra
- Maggie
- 2
- Martin
- Maggie
- James
- Maggie
- DI Wynne
- Martin
- Wynne
- Martin
- Wynne
- Martin
- Wynne
- Martin
- Wynne
- Sandra
- Wynne
- Martin
- James
- Wynne
- Saturday, 23 June 2018
- Wynne
- PC Oliver Reid
- Maggie
- PC Oliver Reid
- Maggie
- Maggie
- Maggie
- Martin
- Epilogue
- Keep Reading …
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by Alex Lake
- About the Publisher
Maggie stared at him. ‘You’re letting us go?’
‘No.’ He licked his lips. ‘I’m letting him go.’
‘What about me? He can’t leave without me.’
‘He can. You’re staying here.’
Maggie tensed. She reached for Seb and held him in her lap.
‘No. You’re not taking him.’
‘I am. It’s time. Don’t you want him to be out of here? To be free?’
Maggie pulled Seb tighter. She did want him to be out of there, she wanted it more than anything.
The thought of him living a normal life, surrounded by people who loved him – even without her – was intoxicating.
But that was not on offer. The man was not going to provide that.
How could he? How could he explain the sudden appearance of a little boy in his life? People would ask questions, social services would get involved, the police would show up.
‘No,’ she said. ‘You’re not taking him from me. Never.’
‘He has to leave. It’s time.’
‘What do you mean it’s time? You keep saying that.’
The man shook his head. His mouth was a thin line, his brow furrowed. She’d seen the expression before, when she didn’t do what he wanted.
‘Give him to me.’
‘Mummy,’ Seb said. ‘I want to stay with you.’
‘You can,’ Maggie replied. ‘You can stay right here.’
‘I don’t want to go.’ Seb started to cry. ‘He’s scary.’
‘Now look what you’ve done,’ the man said. His frown deepened. ‘You’ve made this difficult. I don’t know why you have to make it so fucking difficult.’
He moved with surprising speed, uncoiling across the room. As he reached her, he raised his right fist and slammed it into the side of her head. She fell backwards on to the bed, then felt his hand around her throat. His other hand clamped over her mouth and nose. He squeezed, hard, until her breathing was shallow.
‘You made this difficult, you stupid bitch,’ he said. His voice was strained and angry, almost as though he was on the verge of tears, and, as he shook his head at her his grip tightened.
‘Please,’ she gasped. ‘Please. Don’t take him.’
‘Too late.’ He grabbed Seb in his right hand and picked him up, holding him under his arm. Seb was screaming, but his screams were fading as she struggled to breathe. ‘Too late.’
‘Please.’ Her vision was blurring, Seb coming in and out of focus. ‘Please. Don’t take him.’
But the blackness at the edge of her vision thickened and closed in, and Seb was gone.
2
When she came round she had no idea who or what or where she was. She felt disembodied; the closest thing she could compare it to was waking from a very deep sleep and being confused, blinking away the slumber as your surroundings came into focus and you remembered where you were.