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
“You’re right. Of course Nat is angry with me. I’ve deceived him. Do you think he’ll forgive me?”
“I don’t know.”
“I keep thinking of him at the fireworks, while I was in that creepy cottage. Missing me, trusting me, before it all exploded. I wish I could turn back the clock.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” said Dee, “you didn’t miss much. It rained all evening. Most of us left the fireworks early.”
Jude stared into the empty tumbler.
“So he didn’t even have a good time. I should go back and see him. Try and make things right.”
Fifteen
How long does it take for a life to unravel?
Jude and Nat faced each other across the kitchen table. He looked tired—he had spent the previous night on a friend’s sofa—and wore an expression of solemn distress as she told him how, in the ghastly tangle of lies and truths withheld, she had never been unfaithful to him.
“It’s you I love. I’ve monumentally fucked up. Can you forgive me?” She reached a hand out, touched his briefly.
He stared at her for a long moment.
“I love you too,” he said. “You know I do. But after this, can I trust you?”
Jude held his gaze. Unexpectedly, she felt the stirrings of anger. It was like a clean wind that blew through the murk of her thoughts and she suddenly felt clearer.
“I am saying that you can,” she said eventually. “But if we’re going to get through this, you’re not to hold it over me—Jude the sinner, and Nat the saint who forgave her and took her back. I didn’t sleep with Liam. I was never going to.”
He nodded slowly, not in agreement but as if considering her words.
“Nat, if you don’t believe me about that, we’re done.”
Nat turned away for a moment, so Jude couldn’t see his expression. After a few seconds he looked back at her.
“You made up a story.” When he next spoke it was in an imitation of her tone that made her want to hit him. “‘Oh, my poor grandmother, she’s so ill, I’ve got to go and see her.’ You told me this sob story so you could go away for the weekend with an old boyfriend of yours. That’s what this is about.”
“I’ve already told you the truth about that. I’ve said I’m sorry. I feel terrible about it but I’ve apologized. You need to decide if you can accept that and go forward, or if this is the end.”
“And you made an idiot of me.”
“Is that what you’re thinking about?”
He shrugged. “I need to think about everything,” he said. “Before I decide if I can forgive you.”
“Can you hear yourself? Nat, this isn’t us. We . . .”