Chapters (78)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- 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
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Remarkable Praise for Nicci French
- Also by Nicci French
- About the Publisher
“My room is at the top of the house and quite big. With a leaking radiator and dampness and much noise. Sex noise and quarrel noise and baby noise and drilling and hammering noise.”
“That doesn’t sound fun.”
“It is not fun. It is bad for the mental health.”
“I can see that.”
“Also.” He folded his arms solemnly. “Everyone is mad.”
“Do you mean angry?”
“Mad. Yesterday Irina hit me with a mop.”
“Oh!” A tiny burst of laughter escaped her and Jan gazed at her, disappointed. “So you want to leave?” she said.
“I must leave. Without ado.”
“Okay, I understand that, but I definitely don’t want your room.”
“You too should leave,” Jan declared. “You do not belong.”
“I told you. I am leaving. Right now.”
“Good.”
He nodded at her and made his way upstairs.
Forty-One
Jude buttoned up her coat and went to the door. Something bumped against her leg and she looked down to see Alfie waver and fall on his bottom. He was holding on to a soft, shabby elephant and gazing up at her with those dark eyes. His mouth became square and a sob escaped him.
Jude squatted beside him.
“Hello, Alfie,” she said. “Where’s Mummy?”
“Mummy,” he repeated. “Mummy.”
Jude squinted back down the hall but could only see strangers. She stood and held out her hand.
“Let’s find Mummy,” she said firmly.
Alfie put his trusting hand into hers and she pulled him to his feet. They went back into the party.
“Glögg?” The woman in the kaftan held out an enamel mug.
“Not for me, thank you,” said Jude.
“It’s nice and warming,” said the woman encouragingly.
“Just a sip then,” said Jude, and took the mug. It was warming and tasted of brandy and wine and nutmeg and cloves. It reminded Jude of the Christmas market in Ghent she and Nat had been to nearly a year ago. The thought of Nat sent a spasm of rage and distress through her, and she took another sip, steam rising into her face.
She thought she saw Danny’s red jacket shimmering in the garden and crossed the room with Alfie toward the double doors.
“Jude,” said a voice, and Vin dropped a kiss on the top of her head and laughed at her expression. He ruffled Alfie’s head and then turned back to the woman he was talking to.
In the light-festooned garden, Doc and Irina and a man with orange hair and a lovely Irish accent were smoking weed and building a small bonfire. It was rather close to the house. Danny was standing by a stone urn at the far end of the yard, with a woman who could only be her sister, though not as dramatically beautiful.
“There’s Mummy,” Jude said to Alfie.
“Never mind, I’ll take him,” said Irina, spinning round, her green cape skimming the flame Doc had just lit.
“Thanks,” said Jude.