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Back The Family Next Door Save as PDF
Chapters (117)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
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  114. 109
  115. 110
  116. Teaser chapter
  117. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

She accepted this did not make her a Good Mother.

She loved him painfully—she loved both of her children—and she tried so hard to be gentle and calm and measured, but her reserves of patience had always been low. She wanted their childhood to be filled with sunshine, but clouds were a constant threat.

Evan could be exhausting, a bouncing puppy, already beginning to challenge her carefully constructed boundaries, but he was not cruel. Aster, on the other hand, was so distant, so contemptuous since Olivia’s affair had come to light, she did not know how to reach her.

The house move and financial difficulties had ramped up the pressure even more. Necessity had brought them here, but she hated this street with its brutal history, its boxy houses and lack of character. When their last home, their forever home—a rambling former vicarage furnished with beautiful things and twelve years of memories—had sold after a week on the market, she had wept for days. And although 25 The Avenue was supposed to represent their fresh start, a treacherous part of her longed for the pulsing beauty of the Peak District and her old life.

Her job at the advertising agency in Manchester. Her expensive car and the cachet of long lunches and lucrative deals. A decent salary. Independence from the drudgery of cooking and cleaning and washing. Status. Respect. Him.

She looked around her new sitting room with its low ceilings, its old-fashioned wallpaper and chipped paintwork, and homesickness engulfed her.

Evan had now discarded his game and was fiddling with his shorts, hands down the front in the way that boys do. Men, too. His actions reminded her of Garrick, all pleasure and none of the pain. He was full of grand schemes, but refused to shoulder any of the responsibility. She had recently taken over the family finances and was shocked by his wastefulness, his disregard for money. Stupidly, she had assumed their future was promised, that early retirement beckoned to them both. But a period of unemployment for Garrick, and his hefty investment in the Oakhill flats, had broken them.

Evan was still fiddling with his shorts, and the movement irritated her.

“Stop it,” she said. “It’s not polite.”

A blush stained his cheeks. He withdrew his hand. “Mum,” he said. “Can I show you something? I think it might be important.”

“Just a minute, Evan. Let me finish this press release.”

He sprawled across the sofa, legs dangling over the armrest, drumming his heels against the leather.

Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump.

A muscle in Olivia’s cheek twitched, but she did not speak. Her fingers plodded across the keyboard.

Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump.