Grace’s cheek was stuck to the cold linoleum floor. She was lying in something wet and sticky. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and its acrid, tinny smell flooded her nostrils. She was shivering and then she realized it was because she was almost naked. Her clothes were lying in shreds somewhere in the near vicinity. Nathan had really lost it. Despite the crazed blonde woman turning up on Christmas Eve, they’d managed to have a pleasant enough few days after Christmas. But after the New Year’s Eve celebrations at the pub, Nathan had suddenly taken offence at the fact that Grace wasn’t paying him enough attention.

She’d barely batted an eyelid when the blonde, who Grace had later learned was a stripper named Candy, had come bursting into the pub the week before, screeching like some crazed banshee, demanding to know why Nathan had forced her to abort their baby. According to Nathan’s warped way of thinking, the fact that Grace hadn’t responded with anger and indignation, as Nathan had, meant that he’d lost face. How did it look if his wife didn’t care that he got a stripper pregnant? She really couldn’t win.

So obviously, he’d decided to make her pay. She thought he was going to kill her. Perhaps she was dead. Maybe this was purgatory – or hell? He was in a rage like one she’d never seen before. He was shouting about how she didn’t care about him; that all she cared about was herself.

The last thing she remembered was him slamming her head against the kitchen counter and then nothing.

Everything was black.

It was nice there, though. No pain. Just nothing. Maybe she should go back there? Escape the pain that was starting to invade every part of her body. If she just closed her eyes …

Soft, little pads of warmth started to work their way up her arm, gently squeezing her, coaxing her back to reality. Then she heard the softest whisper.

‘Mummy. Mummy. Wake up, Mummy.’

Jake! Her eyes snapped open and she looked down to see the little dark mop of hair. Jake’s body curled into hers. Grace’s heart broke into a million, tiny pieces. What had she done? All that time she’d been telling herself that she had always protected her son – that she had shielded him from his father. And yet she looked at him now and realized none of that was true. Her poor, sweet boy.

Grace lifted herself up. Taking Jake’s little face in her hands, she forced a smile.

‘Mummy is okay, Jake. I’m never going anywhere without you. I promise.’