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Back The Lie Save as PDF
Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. Acknowledgements
  66. Reading Group Questions
  67. Read More
  68. I
  69. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

Now, she gave Dr Beech a tight smile. Six weeks … the words closed round her, like a fist.

‘Thanks, Guy.’ Romy moved towards the front door, folding the prescription absentmindedly in her hand.

‘He shouldn’t be left alone. These panic attacks are very debilitating.’ Dr Beech rocked back and forth in his polished brogues. ‘But Michael’s tough. The arm’s not good, but getting his negative feelings under control will help … Another three or four months and he’ll be a new man.’ He patted her arm encouragingly as he added, ‘Lucky he’s got you.’

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34

Jenny was already outside the pub when Finch pulled in on his bike. He regretted agreeing to meet up, but he’d bumped into his friend in the Co-op earlier in the week and she’d immediately put her head on one side, frowning at his appearance. ‘Goodness me, you do look miserable.’ When he hadn’t offered any explanation, she’d gone on, ‘Listen, there’s the village art trail on Friday. Let’s meet for a nice lunch and have a potter round. That’ll cheer you up.’

Finch had been too slow to think up a good excuse. He wasn’t in the least bit interested in local art – collecting stuff of any kind was not his thing – but he’d been slowly going crazy alone in the house in the three days since he’d told Romy about Grace and Michael. Running had helped – to a degree – in managing severe bouts of despair at losing Nell, but this thing with Romy was different. It wasn’t clear-cut, like a death, but tormenting and infuriatingly complex. Finch felt only anger towards the man who had attacked Grace – but he couldn’t avoid a reluctant sympathy for the man currently so disabled by a stroke. He was furious with Romy for siding so stubbornly with Michael – but he could partially understand why she did so in the context of her marriage. Every day he ran and ran, but all these contradictory emotions ran doggedly alongside him.

Jenny kissed his cheek and took his arm as they turned towards the pub door. ‘There’s a pensioners’ lunch going on in there, I hope they don’t think we’re candidates.’

Finch laughed. ‘Better sit outside, then.’

‘Now,’ said Jenny, as soon as they were settled at a wooden picnic table, with cider and a ploughman’s each. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’ She gave him a knowing smile. ‘Although maybe I can guess.’

‘You can?’

‘Romy’s gone back to her husband?’ She checked his face to see if she was right and obviously concluded she was, because she went on almost smugly, ‘I was worried she might.’

Finch, embarrassed, said nothing. There was no chance he could open his heart up to Jenny about the real cause of his distress, no way he would betray Grace’s confidence.