Chapters (82)
- Cover
- Praise for The House of Whispers
- Title Page
- Note to Readers
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Twelve
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Twenty-Five
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Forty-Two
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Forty-Eight
- Transcript of interview with Mr Rohan Allerton, husband of Abigail Allerton: 20 December 2019
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Priory Hospital North London: 20 December 2019
- Acknowledgements
- About the Publisher
The average house price in Albert Road was higher than anywhere else in town. I knew this for no reason other than because Rohan was constantly monitoring it, like a surgeon monitoring his patient’s vital signs. A few more steps along our street and his head swivelled right to take in the house he most coveted: the symmetrical, red-brick, new-build ‘Georgian’ that looked almost rude thrust in a modest plot among the Victorian semis. I could tell just by looking at the family paraphernalia that littered the garage that it wasn’t coming up for sale any time soon – not that we’d ever be selling number fifty-nine.
The leaves rustled again as the edge of a breeze picked up and I looked down, concentrating on the uneven paving stones while I figured out how to bring up the topic of the fertility specialist. In taking the number, Rohan had admitted to his mother, to Mili, and to me that he thought there was a problem; funny how such a small thing as reaching out your hand could change so much. At the far end of the street, our house loomed in the semi-darkness, its eyes watching, unblinking, as we approached. In the attic window, something moved, caught by the breeze, maybe. I pulled my hand out of Rohan’s and squeezed it into a fist.
‘So, you took that number from your mum,’ I said when I was sure I could get out the words without them strangling me.
‘I don’t have to call the guy.’
I focused on the pavement. ‘Why didn’t you just tell her to butt out?’
‘Because… oh, for God’s sake, Abi. It’s just a number. I can tear it up if you like. Throw it away. I just took it to shut her up. All right?’
‘You took it to make her happy. Because that’s what you always do. You never stand up to her.’
Rohan spun to face me and stopped in my path. I stared up at him, surprised myself at my words because I usually liked Meena. I don’t know what Rohan saw in my eyes because, when he spoke, his words sent chills through me.
‘Hold on,’ he said slowly. ‘This isn’t about my mother, is it? It’s about you.’ He nodded, realizing he was right, and I thought: No. Not now. Not like this.