Chapters (82)
- Cover
- Dedication
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
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Ian tried to remember. She’d introduced herself as … what was it? She’d shown her ID, but he’d only glanced at it, not long enough to remember her name. ‘I’m Detective Constable … from Coleshaw CID,’ she’d said, but what name had she given? Her first name began with B, he thought, and it was only a short name. Not Bella, Babs, but something like that. B … B … Beth. Yes, he was certain her first name was Beth. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember her surname. But there couldn’t be too many detective constables called Beth at Coleshaw CID. He’d telephone the station in the morning, although he wouldn’t tell Emma about any of this, not yet. Once he had all the facts, he’d have to sit her down and break the news to her as gently as he could. She’d be distraught, of course, just as he was. The longer he could postpone it, the better: that dreadful moment when he shattered her life.
FORTY-ONE
Ian woke before their alarm. He looked at Emma sleeping peacefully beside him and felt envious. Ignorance is bliss, he thought. How he would have liked to take her in his arms, gently kiss her awake and then make love. But that would never happen again, now he knew they were related. It seemed she and her mother had been right when they’d said no good would come of delving into the past. He wished he’d listened to them, for what he’d learnt could not be unlearnt. It was a burden he would carry forever.
Carefully moving away from Emma, Ian slowly lifted his side of the duvet and slipped from the bed without waking her. He silently gathered together his office clothes and went into the bathroom to shower and dress. As he finished, he heard their alarm go and then a few minutes later Emma on the landing. ‘You’re up early,’ she called.
‘Yes, I have an eight o’clock meeting at work,’ he lied.
‘Do you want coffee and toast?’
‘No, thanks, I’ll pick up something en route.’
Ian waited until Emma was downstairs in the kitchen so he wouldn’t have to see her before he came out of the bathroom. He collected his suit jacket from their bedroom, then went quietly downstairs, picked up his briefcase from the living room and called goodbye as he let himself out.
The crisp, cold air hit him. He got into his car and then sat for a minute with the engine running, waiting for the windscreen to defrost. Their neighbour, Mrs Slater, appeared at her bedroom window. He nodded politely, but she turned away. She still wasn’t speaking to them, which Ian thought was probably for the best. Heaven forbid she got wind of what he’d found out. They’d be reviled, the subject of local gossip, and ostracized for being unnatural.