Chapters (46)
- Cover
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Thank you for reading…
- You will also love…
- About the Author
- Also by Julie Shackman
- One More Chapter...
- About the Publisher
He threw off his heavy coat and scarf and reached for his shirt sleeves. “I don’t know if you can see these,” he said, raising his voice, unable to maintain a level of calm. “But these wounds on my arms were inflicted by her. Astrid did this to me.”
“Grandfather,” said Flynn in a warning voice. “You don’t have to do this.”
Flynn ignored his grandson. His voice crackled with emotion. “At first, I thought she might change. She kept promising she would. When she knew her job was taking her to Africa, she became a different person for a while. Or so I thought.”
Flynn senior threw back his head and breathed in a mouthful of air. It smelled of damp moss and burnished December sunshine. “But before we returned to Scotland, the physical abuse started up again. I’d had enough.”
I thought I saw the faintest twitch of a curtain inside Lily’s cottage.
“When we got back, I told her I wanted a divorce. She insisted we sell Merry Wood as part of the divorce settlement, but I just couldn’t.”
Flynn senior turned around to stare across the glade at the grand, empty house. “I had hoped you and I could make a life there together with Carl. I knew how much you loved it, especially the garden.”
An agonising silence continued, until the three of us jumped as Lily’s front door eventually jerked open a notch. She reappeared, sweeping some hair out of her eyes. “Your arms…” she whispered. “What happened? She did that to you?”
Flynn senior’s fingertips traced over his damaged skin. “Yes.”
Lily’s lined, startled eyes brimmed with empathy and then anger. “So why didn’t you come back?” she croaked.
“I did. Once. I spoke to Bernard. He knew everything.” Flynn senior’s face grew haunted at the memory. “He said you were adamant you wanted to make a go of your marriage with him and that you wanted nothing more to do with me.”
The heated spots of colour on Lily’s face ebbed away. She opened her front door wider. “But that’s not true! When was that? I didn’t know you spoke to him.”
Flynn senior blinked at her from the lower step. “It was on your birthday. February 14th 1974. I’ve never forgotten it.”
A creeping, disturbed realisation dawned on Lily. “Are you sure that was the date?”
“Yes. I remember it all.”
Flynn senior’s chest heaved as he recalled it. “I deliberately came on your birthday to see you. Bernard stood where you are now. He said that you had changed your mind about being with me and that you had decided you wanted to try for a baby.”