Chapters (55)
- Cover
- ANNA WHARTON
- Dedication page
- 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
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Praise
- THE IMPOSTER
Patrick continues: ‘Angie, she played just beside us . . . unaware of anything her stupid eejit father was doing. And perhaps I thought if Angie said anything, I could just tell her we bumped into someone at the park, that kind of thing. Jesus, I don’t know.’ He turns to Chloe quickly. ‘I swear I only took my eyes off her for a minute but . . . that was all it took. It’s all it ever takes.’
Chloe is silent. She thinks of losing Nan in the cemetery. But that was not the same. Nan didn’t die. But maybe neither did Angie. Why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he just tell Maureen he wasn’t at the park?
‘I’d told Maureen that I was taking her to the park and, you’ve got to believe me, I wanted to tell her, I did, but . . . how could I break that woman’s heart twice over? She’d already lost her daughter . . . I’d already lost my daughter, I couldn’t lose my wife too.’
He breaks down again, great big wracking sobs as Chloe sits beside him.
‘So I told them I was in the park with her. It was near enough, a stone’s throw away, and I was sure – I was so sure – they’d search a bit further, a bit wider. But Maureen’s probably told you about how the police cocked everything up? How they stopped searching when night started to fall. Ridiculous, right? But they were worried about trampling over evidence. So they searched for a few hours and then they gave up. You’ve got to remember this is more than twenty-five years ago. If it had happened today . . .’ He holds his head in his hands. ‘If it had happened today . . . I remember, there was a building site nearby, a waste area; I even pointed it out to them, I showed them myself, and they said they’d searched but . . . ah, how do you know? How do you know unless you get down on your hands and knees and . . . but I had Maureen, Chloe. And she could hardly function. She’d lost her daughter and I was the only thing she had to cling to and if I’d . . . if I’d told her . . .’ He turns to Chloe, pleading. ‘It would have destroyed her, Chloe. You’ve got to believe me.’
‘But . . . but how could you have let them look . . .?’ She’s still trying to piece it all together in her head.
‘I know . . .’ He rakes his hands through his hair, then bangs his fist on the steering wheel again. ‘I know, and don’t you think I’ve lived with it all of these years? Eh?’
Chloe isn’t sure whether to answer.