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
“Each of these is one of my dead. This one is my gran, this my father. Here’s my friend who killed herself.” She pressed her forefinger on a dark red shape. “This is my dog. I’ll do one for Liam soon. I need to understand what color he is.”
She lifted her head. Tears glinted in her eyes. “Tattoos should have a secret meaning for the person who bears them. People tell me their stories and then I help them find the picture. I’m asking myself which story I should believe now. Should I believe that Liam was unfaithful, or should I believe that he had some secret you were going to help him with, this favor? And why would you do that, anyway? Just because he stepped back into your life after all those years and asked you? I mean, he could be pretty persuasive, but it sounds a bit weird.”
“It’s all I can tell you,” said Jude, retreating to her chair. “I don’t know anything else; I wish I did.”
She thought of what Leila Fox had said to her: she was to have been Liam’s alibi, but alibi for what? What had Liam been about to do? Did this woman, with teardrops inked on her cheek, know anything about that?
“You swear,” said Danny. “Swear on your life?”
It wasn’t at all funny but Jude almost laughed, desperately. Swearing on your life was like being in the playground when she was ten years old.
“Yes. On my life.”
“You’re not what I expected,” said Danny.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t hate you.”
Jude gave a surprised laugh. “Thank you, I guess.”
“Did you love him?”
“You mean, when we were young? Yes. Or I was in love with him at least. When I look back, I think I was scared by how hard I fell for him. It was like I didn’t know who I . . .”
She stopped, appalled at herself. Leila Fox had warned her that if she wanted therapy, she should talk to a therapist not to journalists. She certainly shouldn’t be saying previously unspoken things about her feelings for Liam to his bereaved partner.
“It was a long time ago,” she said, trying to distance herself from her words. “I was eighteen. And I was a young eighteen.”
Danny was smiling at her now, a real smile this time, sympathetic.
“Liam was powerful,” she said. “It took me a long time to learn that I had to keep hold of my own self, not just give myself up to him. Women are too ready to lose themselves.”
Jude couldn’t imagine Danny losing herself to anyone: she would be on the other side of that equation. But she nodded.
“Then along came Alfie,” said Danny. “Nothing like that feeling you have for a child.” She looked dreamy now, staring out at the junkyard. “Mind, Liam was a very devoted father.”