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Back The Library Save as PDF
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. THE LIBRARY
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Contents
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. EPILOGUE
  54. Questions for your Book Club
  55. Acknowledgements
  56. About the Author
  57. Become an Aria Addict

I was eight when it happened. It didn’t seem real to start with and then it hit me. Like someone had kicked a football at my guts. That hollow feeling that eats you from the inside. A despair that only sorrow brings. It felt like that now. Not just because of the photograph but because Dad was leaving me too. Not the same way Mum had done; his was a slow painful way to go. The alcohol was chipping pieces of him away. Rubbing him out.

I placed Mum’s photograph inside the front cover of my next book. It would be safe there until I got a new frame for it. Then I’d keep it in my room. I couldn’t trust Dad anymore.

16

MAGGIE

Maggie leaned back into the garden bench and hugged her mug of tea. She loved this time of the morning when the world was drifting awake. It was chilly but spring was very much in full swing. The fresh canvas of sky like an ever-changing picture and the sound of the birds hiding in the trees. If she closed her eyes she could pick out the different birdsongs. The blackbirds were always dominant first thing with the thrushes adding in their tune soon after. When the wrens joined in she knew it was time to get moving. Getting mobile seemed to take her longer these days. Once she got going she was fine; it was merely first thing when everything seemed to have seized up overnight.

She had a fine view from the bench. Looking out across the patchwork of fields that gently tumbled away from the house she lacked a great incentive to stir; however, today she had a long list of things she wanted to achieve and first up was getting the trailer tyre repaired.

The quad bike wasn’t insured for the road but the tractor was. She hadn’t had the tractor serviced for a good few years but after a bit of TLC and a few plumes of black smoke out the back end it started. She filled it up with the red diesel she’d bought from Savage. She had quite a journey planned. The little grey Fergie was ancient and she wondered if it would see her through another year without any repairs. She sent up a silent prayer to whichever god was responsible for farm machinery and reversed it out of the barn. It had virtually no suspension and it was like sitting in a bucket, only less comfortable, but there was something exhilarating about taking it out on the road.