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Back The Marriage Trap: A completely addictive psychological thriller Save as PDF
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. Books by Sheryl Browne
  3. Dedication
  4. KARLA
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Thirty-Five
  40. Thirty-Six
  41. Thirty-Seven
  42. Thirty-Eight
  43. Thirty-Nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-One
  46. Forty-Two
  47. Forty-Three
  48. Forty-Four
  49. Forty-Five
  50. Forty-Six
  51. Forty-Seven
  52. Forty-Eight
  53. Epilogue
  54. The Affair
  55. Hear more from Sheryl
  56. Books by Sheryl Browne
  57. A Letter from Sheryl
  58. The Babysitter
  59. The Second Wife
  60. Acknowledgements

I take a tremulous breath and try to articulate, desperately try to quash the queasiness rising inside me. She thinks I’ve taken drugs. I know she does. I can see the accusation in her eyes. But I haven’t. I think it was the last drink I had, which I left unguarded on the bar. But I can’t be sure. I can’t remember whether I drank it, or how many drinks I had. I can’t think. I can’t remember.

I don’t want to remember. I wish I could disappear into the dark, friendless night. That the rain would wash me away.

‘Karla?’ she prompts me, as another shudder shakes through me.

‘My father, he’s driving my husband away.’ I try again to explain: why I’m here; why I’ve drunk so much; why I’m upset. Inside my head, I can hear myself saying it, but the words emerge from my mouth in a hiccupping, unintelligible slur. ‘He’s destroyed my marriage.’ I try harder, grope for some coherence. ‘He’s stealing my children!’

‘Who is, my lovely?’ the officer asks, concern in her voice as she reaches to stop me attempting to open the car door, which refuses to budge.

‘My husband,’ I mumble, wrapping my arms tight around my midriff, trying to still the incessant shaking that seems to be rattling my body down to my bones.

‘He’s a bit of a git then, is he?’ she says, taking hold of my shoulders and steering me towards her, peering narrowly at me.

‘I won’t let him.’ I attempt to focus, but her eyes, her nose, her features all blend into one, and there is wet cotton wool in my head, and my own eyes are so heavy. So very heavy.

‘Don’t blame you, sweetheart,’ she says, now sounding definitely unimpressed. ‘Station or accident and emergency?’ I hear her ask her partner, as if through a tunnel.

‘The latter. Why not fill A & E with bloody drunks?’ he mutters moodily. And my chest constricts as I drag another ragged breath in, try to stop the fresh tears erupting – tears of shame, pathetic self-pity and anger.

Forty

DIANA

Noting that Karla still looked deathly pale when she went in to check on her, Diana’s heart ached. It had almost splintered inside her when Karla had rung in the middle of the night from the hospital. She’d sounded so distraught; Diana had been terrified of what she might find when she got there.

Seeing her stir at last, she walked across to her. ‘Feeling better?’ She smiled, smoothing Karla’s fringe gently from her forehead as she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed.

‘Much.’ Karla nodded and attempted to lever herself up.