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
Her mother drove her to the Birches’ house and when they arrived she pulled in and surprised Jude by switching the car engine off. She sat for a moment staring straight in front of her. Jude suddenly felt like she was a teenager again. She sensed that a lecture of some kind was coming. Finally her mother turned and looked at her with a serious expression.
“I think this visit has been good for you.”
“I hope I said how grateful I was.”
“You’ve been through so much.” She gestured toward the house. “I know you’re a doctor, but you can’t cure everyone.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re dealing with something nobody should have to deal with. But you can’t do their suffering for them. They just have to get to the other end.”
Jude smiled. “I’m only getting a lift down to London.”
Her mother shook her head.
“They see you as a connection to their son, or to their brother. That’s too much for you to take on.”
Jude leaned across and kissed her mother goodbye.
“It’s just a lift.”
Fifty-Five
Tara was looking slightly better than when Jude had last seen her, but Andy was somber, with dark shadows around his eyes.
“Good of you to come,” he said gruffly.
“I know it’s a very painful time,” Jude said.
“You don’t have to keep repeating that,” said Tara. “That’s the problem with being bereaved. People feel they have to keep expressing their sympathy to you and then you have to do a performance of being in mourning.”
“Tara,” said Andy. “She was just being kind.”
“I wasn’t talking about her,” she said, and then corrected herself, turning to Jude. “I wasn’t talking about you. You knew Liam. I mean people we hardly know. It’s as if they want to muscle in. All those people who talk about Liam as if they knew him.”
Jude thought to herself that she also was definitely one of those people who didn’t know Liam.
“I think people sometimes struggle to think of the right thing to say,” she said.
“They don’t know what it’s like,” said Andy. “They can’t know.”
Jude felt even more self-conscious about anything she might say so she didn’t say anything.
“Dermot isn’t here yet,” Tara said. “He said he would be here by now. Would you like tea or coffee? I bought some biscuits.”
There was a brief standoff when Jude said she would have what they were having and Tara said it was entirely up to her and Andy interrupted and said he would make both. Jude felt that, after all, she had managed to say the wrong thing. Andy went to the kitchen and, as Tara was starting to explain how Andy felt it difficult to express his grief, there was the sound of the front door opening and being slammed shut.