Contents (71)
- THE
- DAUGHTER
- MICHELLE FRANCES
- PROLOGUE
- 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
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Later that night, after Becky had gone to bed, Kate snuck a look in Becky’s schoolbag. She pulled out the maths exercise book, feeling herself getting more despondent and fuller of self-loathing as she flicked through. The homework had been done but she didn’t understand any of it.
Julia was right, thought Kate.
She’d never better herself.
Never amount to much.
What was she?
She was a millstone.
THIRTY
2018
Kate could hear the murmuring and chattering of voices coming from Grace’s living room. ‘How many have come?’ she whispered.
‘Everyone,’ said Grace.
Kate’s eyes widened. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yes. They’ve all got your letter and are intrigued. They want to hear what you have to say.’ Grace handed her the mug of tea she’d been making. ‘Are you ready?’
Not really, thought Kate, and then mentally kicked herself. If she was going to do this, there was no point in whimpering her way through it. She stood up straight. ‘Lead the way.’
Grace looked at her. She opened a kitchen cupboard, grabbed a bottle of rum, and put a slug in Kate’s tea.
‘Whoa!’ said Kate, but she picked up the mug and took a sip. She pulled a face, for it tasted disgusting, although a slow warmth was already cascading through her body. ‘How’s Arnie, by the way?’
‘We’ve had some good news. A donor’s been found and it’s a nine-out-of-ten match.’
‘Wow. Wow?’ checked Kate. It sounded good, but she was no expert.
‘It’s good,’ affirmed Grace. ‘Just one more session of chemo and then we’ll be looking at a transplant around July.’
‘That’s great!’
‘It is. But it’s a long road still. I know it’s a good thing – hopefully –’ Grace automatically touched the top of the wooden table – ‘but part of me’s dreading it. The normal chemo’s bad enough but this one will really take it out of him.’ She took a deep breath. ‘They’ve warned me what to expect.’
‘But when the transplant works . . .’
‘Yes, I know. It’ll all be over-ish. Imagine! You know, the thing that means the most to me,’ said Grace, ‘isn’t winning some court case against the farm – although it’s important that this gets out there for everyone to hear – it’s finding out the truth. Arnie’s so ill. And we’re not out of the woods yet.’ Her voice caught, but she carried on. ‘Everything he’s been through and, so far, no one’s interested in why. We know what we suspect – why he’s ill – but I feel like no one’s being honest with me. Not only that, there’s a deliberate desire to keep the truth away from me. And that’s all I really want, Kate. I want to know the truth.’
Kate thought of Becky. How she didn’t fully understand her accident. It was a terrible thing, not knowing exactly what had been done to your child.
Grace took her arm. ‘Come on, let’s not keep them waiting any longer.’ She led the way and as they entered, the room hushed. All eyes were on Kate and she noticed every seat was taken. A space had been left in front of the fireplace. The space was for her.